“If you can manage not to, I won’t either. What will the food be like?”
Thomasin laughed. “You will not be disappointed.”
“Will I see the king and queen?”
“Indeed you will.”
“Is she so very beautiful?”
“Anne? You must be the judge of that.”
“Why don’t you like her?”
The question gave Thomasin pause. She wondered whether to answer directly, with examples of Anne’s spiteful behaviour from the past, and the distress of Queen Catherine, but those things would matter little to Lettice, who would only see the glamour of her gowns and the seduction of her eyes.
“You know I served the old queen. You must make up your own mind about her character, as well as her clothes. Do not confuse the two.”
“But clothes matter so much, don’t they?” Lettice gave a twirl. “Do you think she will notice me?”
“She is the queen. She has much more to think about, so do not go thrusting yourself in her way to get her attention.”
“Would I do that?”
Thomasin had a sense of foreboding, reminded briefly of Cecilia’s antics, but Lettice was very young and excited. She felt sure the girl would behave herself once they arrived at court; the atmosphere would probably overwhelm her, and they would seat themselves far from the dais and top tables, so as not to be conspicuous.
The pretext for visiting court was for Giles to speak briefly with Henry about granting his sister her estates in the north. The interview would only last a few minutes, as he explained that she had been denied her modest inheritance from her much older husband by his surviving children. With any luck, Henry would prove sympathetic and order the widow’s dole to be repaid, so that they might then dine in peace.
They journey to Whitehall was blessedly brief, although Lettice commented on everything she saw out of the window until Thomasin threatened to draw the curtain across it. The girl clambered down in the courtyard, turning around in awe at the white pillars and twisted chimneys.
“Will we have time to see the gardens? I can’t wait after everything you told us.”
Thomasin’s descriptions of her recent visit had been especially full and detailed, but they had served not to satisfy Lettice but to whet her appetite instead.
“Why don’t you two explore the gardens now while I seek out the king?” suggested Giles.
“But I want to see the king, too!”
“You will see him,” Thomasin reassured, “at dinner time. A walk in the gardens should calm your nerves. Giles, we will see you in the great hall shortly.”
Taking Lettice by the arm, Thomasin led her through the courtyard, nodding to the guards at the gate. The gardens spread out before them in the midday sunshine, as bright and colourful as she had hoped when she first saw them by night. The rails along the paths gleamed bright emerald-green and white, and the painted statues dazzled in a display of gilded horns, hooves and shields. Among it all, the flowers were beginning to bloom, on the cusp of bursting into life. A few other people were strolling about, pausing to watch the fountain or sitting on the benches dotted around the edges, where Thomasin noticed that vines were growing in rows. She thought that this was where she had recently walked with Sir Thomas.
“This is just how I imagined it,” Lettice smiled, with her eyes wide as moons, “but even better, like a paradise.”
“You see how carefully everything is kept, the paths swept and sanded each morning, the rails and statues polished, the plants clipped close. Imagine how many people are needed to maintain this garden.”
“Just look at that!” Lettice drew them to a halt before a gilded lion, bright in the sun, almost dazzling to the eye.
“Each of these beasts has a meaning. This is the lion of England.”
“And that?” She pointed to a dragon painted red.
“The symbol of Wales, where the Tudor family came from.”
“And that?” She pointed towards a strange, goat-like creature with horns.
“That is a yale, from the Beaufort family, I believe.”
Lettice pulled her forward. “Does the queen walk here? I would, if I was the queen. Do you think she might come out for the air?”
