Thomasin waited for her sister to disappear, then knocked on the door. A guard answered and let her in.
All Anne’s favourites were gathered. Anne Gainsford and Bess Holland, with George Boleyn and Henry Norris, made up the closest group to her. Thomasin could see the swish of skirts as they danced, laughing and moving in rhythm, as if thequeen’s future had already been decided in their favour. Anne’s distinctive tones rose above the music as she conducted her friends: “More swiftly now, quicker of foot. Be ready to turn, less like a dullard, please!”
Thomasin would have turned away had she not committed herself to helping her sister.
“Who is it?” called Anne, above the heads of the guards. She came to a halt behind them. She wore a startling gown of tawny and gold, her face flushed and her eyes glittering. “Thomasin Marwood, I can scarcely believe it. This day gets better and better. It must be a sign.” She threw back her head and roared with laughter.
Thomasin wanted to pull her hair, but she gritted her teeth and remained calm. “I have no wish to intrude on your frivolities. I am here to enquire whether William Hatton is within.”
“Hatton?” Anne smiled. “What, is he to have a turn with you, too? Now the elder sister is married, the younger one comes begging.”
Anne had gone too far. Thomasin’s rage began to boil at the insult, but she stood her ground. “I am here on business. Is Hatton within?” She tried to see past Anne into the room.
“Do you hear this, Rafe?” Anne called back, presumably to where Rafe was enjoying himself in the dance. “Your beloved is here seeking Will Hatton. What do you think of that? Replaced so soon.”
Thomasin turned, fuming with rage. She knew that Anne had deliberately said the most provocative things she could think of, but she could not bear to stand and be insulted.
“Wait, wait,” Anne called in conciliatory tones. “No need for that. Hatton is here.”
Hatton appeared in the doorway, his fair hair tousled, his face full of questions.
“I will leave you to your … business,” said Anne. “Thomasin, what a delicious pleasure it was to see you. Sadly so brief.”
The door closed sharply behind them.
“How can I help you?” said Hatton.
“I am here about your own business, as you will discover shortly. Come with me.”
Thomasin started walking and Hatton hurried behind. She felt no inclination to speak to him or make the situation less awkward, and he was not prepared to make the effort either. Soon they emerged from the corridor into the courtyard. Thomasin caught a flash of her sister’s dress among the roses.
“Your business lies over there, among the roses. If you speak so much as a single unkind word, you will have me to deal with!”
Giving him a little shove in the right direction, Thomasin was satisfied to see him walk towards Cecilia, then turned away to find herself a spot for repose. She felt tired now, with all the strains of the past weeks creeping up on her, and settled down on one of the benches on the far side, out of sight and earshot of the lovers.
The sun fell heavy and warm upon her skirts and she settled back, hoping for a decent stretch of rest while Cecilia’s predicament was resolved. Soon, the judgement of the court would be pronounced and there would be a path laid out before her, either with Catherine victorious as queen or, Heaven forbid, discarded and banished somewhere. Would the queen need her ladies in a nunnery or a remote house of retirement?
Once Sir Richard was freed and Cecilia’s baby born, Thomasin imagined her parents would wish to retire to Suffolk. There would always be a place for her there, but what a life it would be in comparison to that which she enjoyed now. What kind of marriage would she make there — the son of some local landowner, perhaps? And Cecilia? What would become of her, now that Hugh wished to have no more to do with her? Shemight return to Suffolk too, unless a different future was being decided for her right now.
Thomasin closed her eyes. It was warm for May. Maria had told her how this used to be Catherine and Henry’s favourite month, dressing up in Lincoln green and riding out into the fields for feasts and hunting. There had been such happiness between them, which had lasted for so long.
Thomasin woke with a start. John Dudley was shaking her arm.
“Thomasin? Are you well?”
She rubbed her eyes and looked around, dazed. The sun had shifted position behind the chimney pots. “I … yes. Oh, John, I think I fell asleep. What hour is it?”
“Close upon dinner. How long have you slept?”
“Longer than I should.”
She got to her feet, looking over towards the rose bower. There was no sign of either Cecilia or Hatton.
“God’s blood! You’ve not seen my sister, have you?”
“I just came in through that door. I saw no one.”
Thomasin sighed. “Very well, forgive me.”
