“Will you tell me your name?”
“Not for the world, but my warning is honest. God bless you, my lord.”
The man turned and disappeared down an alley before Giles could dismount.
“I must take this directly to the king. I will escort you back to Monk’s Place, as the streets are still volatile, but after that I must go straight to court and inform him of what we have seen and heard today.”
There was no Mariot awaiting them, only an anxious Lettice, who hurried outside upon the sound of their horses’ hooves.
“Nothing? You did not find her?”
“No, but we did find a deal of trouble instead,” said Giles, watching as the stable boy helped Thomasin down. “Now I must ride to Whitehall. Lock the gates behind me and stay within the house.”
“What is happening?” asked Lettice.
“Further trouble against the queen that swift action may prevent. Now, in you go.”
Thomasin turned. “But if Mariot returns, she will be locked outside.”
“She should have thought of that before she ran away,” said Giles, out of patience. He turned and kicked his horse into action, disappearing out into the streets. The stable boys did his bidding, closing and locking the gates behind him.
“Are we safe?” asked Lettice in a small voice.
“Oh, we are safe enough,” Thomasin reassured her. “Never fear. Let us go and play a game of checkers or dominoes.”
“As if I can concentrate on those! I want you to tell me everything. I must know what happened. Why is the queen in danger? I am old enough to know.”
Thomasin sighed. “Very well, come inside and I will explain everything to you.”
She led the girl inside, but a knot of concern sat at the bottom of her stomach. Mariot was missing and Anne’s procession through the streets was due to take place in two days, ahead of her coronation in Westminster Abbey. After what she had seen today, Thomasin now understood and shared the queen’s fears.
SEVENTEEN
With Lettice’s help, Thomasin had laced herself into Mary Boleyn’s dark red velvet gown and placed a pearl-edged headdress with a silver net over her hair. As a small act of defiance, she had pinned at her throat the little ruby brooch given to her by Queen Catherine as a wedding gift, relishing the secret symbol that conveyed her true loyalty. No one would guess its meaning, but it made her heart glad to know it was there.
A day had passed since the arrest of Elizabeth Barton and Thomasin was due to collect Lady Elizabeth from Durham House and conduct her to the Tower, where those taking part in Anne’s procession were to stay overnight. New royal apartments had been created for the occasion — their paint freshly dry, the cushions plumped, and rich tapestries hung in readiness. The palace kitchens were freshly supplied, bursting with venison, beef, pork and goose, and hung with the freshest herbs. There were the sweetest apricots and oranges, the spiciest cloves and cinnamon, great jugs of cream and churns of country butter, and big bags of almonds and walnuts. Dozens of barrels of the best Burgundian wines were rolled down into the cellar. The whole place was scrubbed, washed, polished and perfumed, ahead of the queen’s arrival.
Thomasin turned to Giles, preparing to say her goodbyes. “I feel unsure about going when Mariot is still missing.”
“I know, but there is nothing to be done about it. It was her own choice.”
“But where did she spend the last night? I fear for her, with all this dissent abroad.”
“Remember your reason for remaining here. Your duty now is to Lady Boleyn. With the unrest in the city, it is doubly important that you remain by her side.”
“There will be no trouble, will there?”
“The king took action as soon as we had spoken. Known troublemakers have been removed from the streets and the guards around Anne, and along the route by St Paul’s, have been trebled. Anyone daring to speak or act against her will be swiftly apprehended and made an example of, so that will serve as a deterrent to others of like mind.”
“You do not think that anyone would try to harm her?”
“I do not think so; it would mean a direct trip to the gallows. Do not let such thoughts trouble you. You will be riding behind her, in one of the carriages; you will be quite safe from harm.”
Thomasin tried to believe him. In spite of her history with Anne, the last few days had opened her eyes to the strains of the new queen’s position in a way that almost made her feel sympathy for her. Catherine of Aragon had never experienced such open hostility, being beloved by the people even in spite of her Spanish blood. Today, though, she would not have exchanged positions with Anne for anything, not even for the chance to wear the crown.
“Are you ready?” Lettice came down the stairs to join them in the hallway.
“I am. Now, you will be sensible and safe during the procession. I will be back in two days’ time, after the coronation itself.”
