She felt a little churlish as she watched him go, but he was right to allow her time alone with her father. Distant relative he might be, but he should still not come between them at a delicate time like this. As soon as he had gone, she relaxed a little.
“Tell me, Father, how do you really fare? Are you managing to sleep in here? Do they feed you well?”
“I can hardly complain. My nights are troubled, but that is the curse of any unfamiliar place, and I dine as well as Sir William, sometimes in his chamber.”
“That is a blessing.”
“I am more fortunate than many, but I long for news and the speedy resolution of this matter. Is your sister behaving herself? Does she suffer with the child?”
“She is managing as well as possible. But I must tell you that when I went to Monk’s Place, Cromwell’s men were there searching every room for books and papers. They removed your correspondence with the Abbot of Guisnes; I hope there was nothing of importance to you in it.”
“Those letters? I wonder why. No, they were merely exchanges between old friends, about the harvest and local appointments on his part, and news of court on mine. Goodness, I wonder what I wrote now. Some of it was about the king’s business, this marriage trouble and the court, but it was nothing that I would not admit to, nor that the whole of London already whispers.”
“I am sure it was nothing.” But Thomasin felt a chill at the possibility that her father had been indiscreet.
“I may have written in support of the queen, but that is hardly a crime. We spoke of the old days and the queen’s good character. You say Cromwell has these letters?”
“Sadler took them for him.”
“Well, I can answer anything he wishes to ask. I do not think that is the main matter, though. I was arrested to silence my support of the queen, in the same way that her lawyers from Flanders were sent back. More and Fisher should be wary of their words, or they might find themselves here as well. I take comfort from the thought that it was not personal. My old friend the king was not angry with me, but acted this way to guard his own interests. I hope I shall be restored to favour in the very near future.”
Thomasin was silent, remembering what Giles had recently said about the king having no friends. They were his subjects first and foremost.
Giles was waiting for her, as promised, when she departed. He stood up as Sir William led her back into his chamber.
“Thomasin? All is well?”
“Yes, thank you.” She turned to the constable. “How long must he remain here? I thank you heartily for all you are doing for his comfort, but surely you are also of the belief that his imprisonment here is most unjust, most unkind, and occasioned over a trifle!”
Sir William nodded. “My dear girl, the difficulty is that I am a servant of the king. No matter what my private thoughts might be about those sent to me, I am obliged to enact the law in all its particulars, and never to presume to question them. While I can tell you that I feel for your father’s plight and do all I can to alleviate his suffering, I can no more comment on his position than I could that of the queen.”
Thomasin stared back at him, frustrated. “But what can be done?”
“That is up to you and Sir Giles, and any friends of yours who choose to petition the king for his release. But, given the circumstances, I cannot imagine that his stay here will be too long. It coincides with the trial, whose duration must last the summer out, although the time for the queen’s evidence is almost completed, as I understand it.”
“You think he may be released as soon as they begin hearing evidence for the king’s side?”
“It is possible, so long as there is no other complicating factor.”
Thomasin thought of the letters. “He had written to the abbot at Guisnes, a few personal letters, the contents of which he can scarcely recall, but they touched upon the queen’s suffering. I hope those will not count against him.”
“From what I have observed,” said Giles, “the matter rests more with Cromwell, acting on the king’s behalf. It will be his decision as to whether or not to use the letters, I am afraid.”
“And he is no friend to my family,” Thomasin said with a sigh.
“But surely the king will not let him ruin you all,” Giles assured her. “Take heart, I believe all will be resolved with thePapal Court. Come, let us depart. I shall accompany you back to Bridewell.”
“For the last time, as the queen removes to Baynard’s Castle on the morrow.”
“Then let us go at once, so you might be back in time for dinner.”
“In truth, I have little appetite.”
“But you do your father no assistance in starving yourself. Come, let us go and take a boat.”
They took their leave of Sir William and found a vessel awaiting them at the bottom of the steps, summoned by the guards. Thomasin watched the squat grey shape of the Tower complex receding with a shiver. She resolved to ask Catherine for permission to visit Monk’s Place and inform her mother about her father’s keeping as soon as possible.
“You are quiet,” said Giles as they sat side by side, with the oarsmen behind them.
