“This,” said Baynton, pushing open a door that stood ajar, “is the lying-in chamber.”
Thomasin peered inside. A fire was already lit in the hearth, although the weather was warm and dark drapes obscured the windows, so it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. In the centre stood a huge, ornately carved four-poster bed painted gold, with hangings of cloth of tissue.
“That is the bed given in ransom for the Duc d’Alençon,” said Baynton proudly. “It has come from the royal treasury, for the delivery of the heir.”
It was truly the most magnificent bed Thomasin had ever seen.
“And here,” he said, indicating that she withdraw, “are the ladies’ rooms. You will attend the queen on a rota, taking it in turns to sleep in her chamber, and in here.”
“I think Sir Thomas intends me to remain with her at all times, day and night.”
“Perhaps he does,” said Baynton softly, “but you might need respite, when she sleeps, for example. A change of scene, should you desire it.”
Two whitewashed rooms with large windows had been furnished with a number of truckle beds and fresh supplies.
“You see everything is in readiness. All we lack now is the queen.”
“Might she come today?”
“No, we would have received word. They will send a messenger the day before, so it might be tomorrow or the day after, but not much later than that. The king will want to be certain all is safe, as there were reports of the plague in the countryside.”
“Plague?”
“A woman passing through, we think, but there has been nothing in the last week.”
“Thanks be to God.”
Baynton left her to return to his duties. For a while Thomasin rested on one of the beds, then decided to walk a little in the gardens, to try and find the fountain again, and the roses, and the tiltyard, and enjoy the peace a little for herself.
The air was fresh and cool as Thomasin found her way through the passageways and gates to the walled garden. Set behind the palace, it was almost possible to forget that the river lay on the other side, and that this was soon to be a bustling place, filled with life — and a new life, too. Her feet had not forgotten the way. They led her along winding paths between beds of red, white and yellow blooms, past hedges of box, clipped trees and railed beds, towards the central fountain. Here, Ellen and Hugh Truegood had fallen in love; here they had witnessed a distant figure on the path drop in exhaustion, the first harbinger of the sweating sickness at Greenwich. Now it all stood silent in theafternoon sunlight. Strange, she thought, how time changed a place. Nothing much else was altered yet, although time would surely fix that too.
She turned and looked back up at the palace with its array of windows and jumble of angles and facades, its twisted chimney pots and sloping rooves. A movement from the new apartment block caught her eye, as if someone had stepped closer to the window and lingered a moment. From that distance, she couldn’t be certain, but it looked as if Thomas Boleyn had been watching her. Thomasin turned and headed out towards the tiltyard.
That evening, she hesitated before heading to Sir Thomas’s chambers. Bayton and the other staff would be eating in the hall, but Sir Thomas had singled her out to dine with him on different fare, in the privacy of his room. Something about it made her feel a little ill at ease: perhaps it was the seclusion or the separation, or perhaps it raised a slight confusion about her status now, not just a servant but also a friend of the Boleyn family. It might also have been the figure at the window earlier, which could have been a simple coincidence as he’d spotted movement outside whilst going about his business. It had been the way he’d lingered, though, that made her uncomfortable.
There was no question of not dining with him, she realised, no matter what other options lay before her. Sir Thomas had clearly set out her role, and it was not within her power to deviate from it, so she brushed off any last pieces of the garden from her gown and splashed water on her face and hands with a sense of purpose. No doubt he wished to discuss Anne’s situation with her further, and get her opinion on the lying-in chamber.
A fire was burning in the hearth behind Sir Thomas and scented pastilles filled the air with a musky, citrus odour. As soon as she entered the room, Thomasin realised it definitelywas the spot at which she had looked up from the garden; she saw the wide window, with the bright garden view through its diamond-leaded panels. Sir Thomas had changed out of his riding habit into soft grey velvet, but Thomasin thought he was looking tired about the eyes, which the candlelight showed to be etched with lines.
“There you are. You have passed a pleasant afternoon, walking in the gardens?”
There was no secret then, no spying. “Yes, I wished to remember what it was like. It must be five years since my last visit.”
“Greenwich never loses its charm, does it? Will you sit?”
A table had been set out for them, with a white cloth, silver plate, candlesticks and glassware. Sir Thomas gestured towards the door for service and an array of dishes was laid before them, with silent hands filling their glasses.
“We have heard from Windsor,” he said, pulling his knife through a haunch of beef once the servants had departed and closed the door. “Tomorrow the court arrives here, and these rooms will be full to the rafters. So tonight is our last moment of peace. I hope you will enjoy it, Lady Waterson.”
“I shall, but I also seek to be of as much assistance as I can to the queen.”
“Oh, believe me,” he said, smiling, “she will require much assistance. I do not envy you the task.”
“And yet you employ me for it.”
He gave a short laugh. “Yes, I do! I employ you to do that which I cannot and would not. And I appreciate you all the more for it. One other thing: you may have heard that the king is in mourning, and so then, is the court. It makes things more difficult.”
“Mourning? For whom?”
