Thomasin gave her a taut smile and pushed open the door. “There lies your way; the door is at the far end. Someone will lead you through, I am sure.”
“Oh, but…”
Thomasin could not stay and listen to any more of Isabel’s friendly chatter. Pushing her way past Rafe, she headed outside, into the fresh air of the rose garden. A slight rain had fallen earlier, and the grass was gleaming and refreshed, with water droplets gathered in the hearts of the flowers.
For a while, she simply walked, using the physical exertion to build a rhythm and calm her mind. Then a bench appeared, surrounded by roses, and she sank down onto it with a sigh. What had she got herself into here, amid the court intrigues and dramas, having to negotiate such difficult men as the king, Thomas Boleyn and Rafe? With a pang, she thought of Giles, uncomplicated, loyal, warm-hearted Giles who should have been at her side. What had she been thinking, coming back to court, having to fawn and please when it went against her nature? She had found her freedom, and yet forces had conspired to make her lose it again.
“I thought to find you here.”
Rafe was the last person she wished to see. Rising from the bench, she made to hurry away through the roses.
“No word of greeting for me, Thomasin?”
His tone made her stop. “Do I owe you any word, any greeting?”
“Well, perhaps four years of acquaintance might suggest it.”
“Acquaintance? Is that what you call it now? Is that what you told your wife? Do you try and marry all your acquaintances?”
“Well,” he said, smirking, “something has rattled your wits today.”
Thomasin felt anger rise within her, but she refused to give in to it. “Do you remember when we were last in this rose garden? The way you spoke to me then?”
“That is in the past now.”
“How convenient. Except your ill manner remains the same.”
“Who has the ill manner now, madam? I had come out here to bid you a civil good morning.”
“Madam? Am I madam now? And recently I learned that you were promised all the while we were ‘acquainted.’”
“Ah,” he said, “that’s what this is about.”
“You don’t deny it, then?”
He shrugged. “There was an understanding between our fathers, but I never took it seriously, not until after you had gone.”
“Good thing that I left.”
“You are very angry, Thomasin.”
He was right. She was surprised at the strength of her feelings. “Only with you, Rafe, only with you.”
“Can we not be friends?”
“Friends? Not only did you behave badly towards me before, but now I learn of the depth of your deceptions. Stay away from me. I mean that.”
Thomasin hurried past him and headed back towards the palace. It was time to resume her place at Anne’s side, probably for the afternoon. As she was passing through the gate that led into the inner courtyard, the stout figure of Thomas Cromwell was waiting in the sunshine. Thomasin found it hard to look at him, reviled by his past cruelties, not least to her father.
“Mistress Waterson, have you come from the queen?”
“No, my lord, I am going to her now.”
“How fares she today? Are there any signs?”
“I am not a midwife, my lord. I am engaged to keep her company.”
“But she has made no mention of retiring?”
