“Hmm. I think of all the times that poor good Queen Catherine went through this, only to suffer such terrible losses. I would not wish that upon anyone, not for the world.”
And yet, thought Thomasin, her loyalties strangely divided,it sounds as if you do.
“What was it?” he continued. “Six pregnancies and only one child living, and that a daughter. Fate can take a cruel turn.”
“There is nothing we can do about fate. I prefer to put myself in God’s hands and pray for the best outcome.”
“Of course. A son. That’s what the whole court desires, is it not?”
“It is what we pray for. A healthy, safe delivery and a strong male child at the end.”
“And I had thought you were the queen’s woman.”
“I am as loyal as I can be to Catherine,” said Thomasin, her temper flaring. “I was by her side throughout her suffering, supporting her in every way I could, and I shall continue to love her until the day I die. But I would not wish suffering on another. The world has changed and we must adapt with it. I am thinking of the child to be born, who did not ask for any of this.”
“I am pleased to hear of your affection for the queen, who has most need of it, and is most deserving. I have received letters from her this morning.”
“You have?”
“Indeed, although I was not so foolish as to bring them to court about my person. I left them in my lodgings. She is suffering most unnecessarily, and has heard there are plans to deprive herof her dower payments in the next session of parliament. She has already had to dismiss half her household and beg for an income sufficient to keep her in meat and drink, while her clothes grow shabby and she mends her stockings herself. What man, what king, would allow that state to persist?”
“It grieves me to hear it,” said Thomasin with sincerity.
“You know this is not the work of the king alone? He is susceptible to whatever the lady asks him.”
Suddenly, Thomasin had an inkling of what was coming. She had already considered it herself, although the moment had not arisen, yet she would not be pushed into it by someone else.
“You have her ear. She trusts you, I hear. She relies upon you.”
“I cannot compromise my position. I have been employed to help soothe her, maintain calm during these difficult days.”
“But think of the queen and Princess Mary.”
“I do think of them, but losing my position will not help them.”
“There are ways you can be subtle about this. Speak to her of the role of a mother, of the respect due to that position, one woman to another.”
Thomasin sighed. “I would do all I can to help Catherine, but Anne will see through this at once and then she will no longer trust me.”
“I think you are cleverer than that,” he said, “and that you are the queen’s true friend. You will find a way.”
She watched him walk away, frustrated and torn. Could she really influence Anne to show greater kindness towards her former rival? In this volatile situation, when she was most vulnerable, perhaps she would listen, but equally, such words might anger and distress her.
Thomasin slipped back into the palace unnoticed and headed up to Anne’s chambers. The guards nodded her through and the antechambers were quiet.
Mary Boleyn looked up as she reached the door before Anne’s inner room.
“You’re back then? Took your time.”
“I walked in the gardens.”
“Nice for some.”
Mary had not been out of the chamber in three days.
“Your turn will come soon.”
“Oh, please!” Mary rolled her eyes, reminding Thomasin that they would never be friends.
