“Of course it has not,” Thomasin insisted. “I will be at her side throughout the coronation.”
“I thank you for it. There are other reasons why Anne is on edge. Certain whisperings in the city, rumours about the procession through the streets, threats to her person. She will be vulnerable, and with child, as they ride across London.”
“She fears they will boo her,” added Lady Elizabeth. “Just yesterday, a baker in Cheapside was branded for speaking against her. Terrible things they say.”
“She will be surrounded by guards; the usual number for such events has been doubled, and the streets will be railed so the crowds are kept well back, but voices travel, no matter what. Shefears the assassin, or at least a stone thrown from a distance. You understand?”
“Of course. I had not thought of that.”
“All the eyes of the world will be upon her, with her swollen belly, and if they do little else but choose to remain silent, it will be hard enough. Anything less than smiling faces and cheers will signal the city’s disapproval.”
“Yes, I see.”
“It is supposed to be the day she has waited for, all these years,” said Lady Elizabeth, sighing, “but I fear she will not enjoy it at all.”
“There was a letter, delivered to Whitehall,” Sir Thomas continued. “Have you heard of this false prophetess, the maid of Kent?”
“I have not, sir.”
“Some village woman claiming to be a nun who has visions of the future. Prophecies and suchlike. She was believed by Warham and Fisher and even More, your friend More! At first she was a mere flatterer, praising the king, so all was well, but then she took against Anne, predicting that the king would die soon after marrying her. Well, a letter containing one of her predictions arrived at court this morning, describing the circle of hell Anne would find herself in. That was why she was seeking Henry out, already in a state of distress, and she found him with this … this other woman!”
“This holy maid is a madwoman,” said Lady Elizabeth, “and should be treated as such. She should not be permitted to remain in London, nor to address the crowds as she does.”
“What is this woman’s name?” Thomasin asked. “So that I may look out for her.”
“Elizabeth Barton, the supposed Holy Maid of Kent. Nothing more than a charlatan. She should be in the Tower!”
“She will be, soon enough,” said Sir Thomas. “It is only on account of her popularity that she retains her liberty. They do not want her arrest to distract from the coronation.”
Mary returned to the chamber with the dark red gown slung over her arm. She looked Thomasin up and down.
“Fitting, isn’t it? You tried out my husband and now you get to wear my gown.”
“Hush now!” Lady Elizabeth shooed her away. “Pay no mind to her; we are all on edge because of this. You see how much your help is needed.”
Thomasin set Mary’s unpleasant words aside and held the gown up against herself. It fell in long, soft folds, with intricate embroidery and gold piping, and rows of tiny glass beads catching the light. Thomasin could never have afforded something so rich and exquisite herself.
“Yes, that will do very well,” said Lady Elizabeth admiringly. “It looks to be the right size, too. Perhaps between us we can salvage something of the day.”
“What is the alternative?” asked her husband. “Throw her to the wolves?”
Lady Elizabeth turned away, but Thomasin saw the look of concern on her face. This situation was going to be far more difficult than she had first thought.
While the carriage carried her the short distance back to Monk’s Place, Thomasin turned over in her mind what she had learned. Anne was more unpopular than even she had guessed, with very real fears about being exposed to the people when riding through the streets. And this Holy Maid of Kent was a problem, her prophecies not just treasonous, but causing the king and queen to argue. She wondered why men she had trusted, Fisher and More, had initially believed her. Perhaps a letter to More in Chelsea might bring some answers. There was no doubt shewould have to be vigilant, seated at Lady Elizabeth’s side; was this more a matter of protection than companionship?
Lettice hurried out of the main entrance to meet her. “Is she with you? Mariot? Did you find her?”
Giles had followed Lettice outside, and Thomasin’s heart sank as she met his eyes.
“I did not, but I was not looking for her. Do we need to?”
Giles nodded slowly. “She has gone again. Quite deliberately this time, as she had been told most definitely to stay in the kitchen.”
Thomasin climbed down from the carriage. “I assume you have searched the entire place?”
“From top to bottom, and all the garden,” confirmed Lettice. “She has simply vanished into the air.”
“Williams says the only visitor to the house this morning has been a blacksmith’s boy, who dropped in some sharpened knives, just before it was discovered that she was gone.”
