“Now, have you given any thought to what you will wear?”
Thomasin cringed. “I have my black velvet dress with tawny sleeves — the best I brought with me, as I had no idea I would be staying more than a couple of days, let alone attending a coronation.”
“The same one you wore to the feast?”
“Yes, then this green one is my second best.”
Lady Elizabeth nodded. “We can find something. You look to be about the same size as my Mary; there will be a suitable gown in her wardrobe.”
“I don’t want to put anyone out.”
“Nonsense. You need a gown; we have gowns. Dark red always suited you well, and I will be in a crimson cloak, so we shall compliment each other. Come.”
They reached the chamber door and all seemed quiet within. Lady Elizabeth rapped upon the wood with her knuckles and her husband came to open it.
“All is well.” He turned to Thomasin. “You have had a chance to speak about my commission?”
“She has been so good as to accept,” said Lady Elizabeth, “so now we need to find a suitable dress. Is Mary still there? I want her dark red velvet gown for Lady Waterson to try.”
Thomasin felt her cheeks colour. “I do not want to be any trouble. I can come at a more convenient time.”
“There is little time, especially if alterations need to be made. Now, come with me.”
Thomasin followed Lady Elizabeth into the chamber as instructed. It was a wide, pleasant room with large windows and a fire burning in the hearth despite the season. A wide, comfortable chair set with cushions stood abandoned by the flames, presumably where the mistress of the house had been sitting. Mary stood on the far side, with a brush in her hands, working it through the tangles of Anne’s long dark locks.
Anne looked up at once, staring straight at Thomasin. “I suppose she has come to gloat.”
“Enough of that!” snapped her father. “You will keep a civil tongue while you are under my roof. Lady Waterson is here as my guest and you will show her some respect.”
Anne rose slowly to her feet. “Have you forgotten to whom you are speaking? I might be your daughter, but I am also your queen.”
There was a cold, uncomfortable moment. Sir Thomas looked at her with disappointment. “And yet here you are in your mother’s chamber, fretting and complaining like a fishwife! You might command some queenly respect when you start to behave like one.”
Thomasin expected a tirade of abuse, but instead Anne bit her lip. “Where else might I go? I have no one else.”
Silence fell in the chamber. There was nothing but the sound of the fire crackling.
Thomasin took a deep breath and spoke directly to Anne. “I need to borrow a dress for your coronation. What do you recommend?”
Anne turned her dark eyes upon her as if she had spoken in a foreign language. Hostility sat across her brows.
“I had never thought to attend, but I am to accompany your mother, so it must be something suitable.”
Slowly, Anne turned, stalking straight past Thomasin and out of the door. They heard her footsteps disappear down the corridor.
“She gets worse!” said Mary in despair. “I will fetch you the red velvet, Mother.”
Lady Elizabeth touched Thomasin gently upon the arm. “Thank you for trying.” Then she turned to her husband. “My lord, will you go after her?”
“I will not,” said Sir Thomas. “She needs to master herself. She can go back to court by herself, without us fussing over her constantly.”
“This bodes ill. She must think of the child.”
“We cannot do more for her. She must go back to Henry and apologise.”
“She always was too proud, even as a little girl. Do you recall when she broke the vase and refused to admit it, even though I had seen her?”
“I do.” Sir Thomas nodded, then turned awkwardly to Thomasin. “Lady Waterson, I am too convinced of your kindness to fear this little episode has changed your mind about assisting my wife.”
