Behind them, George had found a friend and was laughing away at some lewd tale. Sir Thomas steered her away from them, down a sidewalk. There were a number of people like them, walking, chatting and admiring the gardens, but each time they passed, these men and women bowed or curtseyed to Sir Thomas, and in turn, to Thomasin at his side. It was a strange sensation. For a moment, she almost felt what it must be like to be queen.
“I appreciate you giving up your time to act as companion to my wife. She grows tired of court easily, which is not compatible with me fulfilling my duties.”
“Would she not be happier at Hever? I know how much she loves it.”
“Yes, you are right. And at the moment the gardens there are glorious, but she must be here for Anne’s coronation. She can hardly miss that, can she?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“It is good for her to have pleasant company; I know she has always been fond of you, and now you seem…” He paused. “Older and wiser than before.”
Thomasin could not stop herself from smiling. Sir Thomas had never been this warm or frank before. “Older, certainly.”
“Well, our children are busy. Mary is now in Anne’s household, although she frequently takes herself off to Essex, and she has her own family to consider, too.”
“Of course.”
“And George is often engaged as ambassador; he is just back from the Low Countries, in fact. You do not find my wife too much of a burden?”
The word was harsh. “Never a burden, no.”
“Do not feel sorry for her. If she so much as senses a whiff of pity, she will send you home.”
“I understand, but it is hard not to feel that. What is wrong with her, if I may ask?”
“You may. The doctors think her mind is confused, and there are issues with her hips and back, and the headaches. We’ve tried all manner of remedies, but rest and peace are what’s best for her. She is of an age now that trials come to women, especially those who have borne children.”
“So she will be returning to Hever after the coronation?”
“Perhaps, for a few weeks, then there is Anne’s child to deliver. She will wish to be here for her confinement, to offer her assistance.”
Of course, the birth of a future Boleyn king. Thomasin understood that none of them would wish to miss that.
“Do you plan to stay in London long?”
“I had not intended to. It was to be a brief visit, to settle the questions of my uncle’s estate.”
“And do you still feel that way?”
“As I said, my Suffolk garden is my pride and joy. I would not be away from it for longer than I must.”
They had reached the far end of the privy garden. Still leading her by the arm, Sir Thomas turned round so that the full view unrolled before them, leading back up to the jumble of roofs and spires in the palace complex. Chimneys let up their drifts of smoke to the sky. Torches shone as the evening air crept over them, soft and blue, catching the lights on a unicorn or a lion. Sir Thomas looked over it with wistful eyes.
“Not even if this was your garden?”
“But it would not be my garden,” said Thomasin quickly, as a couple passed them by, nodding to the man at her side. “I would always have to share it.”
“Is anything truly our own?” he said, his eyes in shadow. “We only ever borrow things for a short space.”
Thomasin turned to him, wondering at the change in a man she had previously feared. “You have become a philosopher in my absence.”
He smiled, taut and small, before the expression disappeared. “Perhaps I have.”
A laugh from across the garden drew their attention. George had met with more young men, who were now standing in a group, close to the fountain.
“I fear for my son. He lacks direction. He only cares for pleasures, while he leaves his wife alone.”
This felt like too much private information. “He is still young,” Thomasin added.
