Anne Boleyn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
happyfalcon) wrote2014-09-16 08:45 pm
happyfalcon) wrote2014-09-16 08:45 pm
[For Thomas] Changing Seasons
There was no doubt, it had been hard. In the weeks that followed, Anne only got a few fleeting looks at Thomas Wyatt. Every once in a while they were able to steal fleeting kisses of the briefest touch of fingers at banquets. The letters they wrote were far more significant. Poetic verses, promises, sweet words - both were exchanged in equal passion.
But recently, Anne's happiness had taken a drastic drop. Henry had been pressuring her lately, wanting to make his relationship with Anne more public. She had refused, coyly at first, then logically. Her argument had been that, while he was married, it wouldn't do to have them both seen in public together. Henry had agreed at first without question. Recently though, he had started to grow annoyed. This would have been fine, except that Thomas Boleyn was beginning to feel the pressure as well, and was pressuring Anne to accept the king's public advances.
What else could she do? As the days grew darker, Anne turned to the only person she could trust without question: Thomas.
Anne wrote a letter, quickly and carefully when she finally had a free moment:
Dearest Poet:
Would that I could write of my fondness for you now; to tell you, as I often have these past days, that it is you that I love more than any. Alas, today I write to you with the gravest matter - The Lion seeks to show off his prize to the jackals that surround him. To show that the falcon is his, and belongs to no other.
What shall the falcon do, dear heart? You know well of the others that surround it, and the dangers the falcon faces should it refuse The Lion - though it wants nothing more than to do so.
I hope, dearest love, that you and your most brilliant mind are able to manifest some solution.
Until then, Poet, as always you have my heart, and my happiness lies with you alone.
Sincerest love,
~Brunet
Hopefully, Thomas's crafty mind would identify the new characters she developed to avoid dropping names. The Falcon, herself; The Lion, the king. What could she do? What should she do?
Slipping out of her chamber, folded letter in hand, Anne stepped down to their designated spot. No guards, no prying eyes in sight. Still, Anne kept the letter in her sleeve until she reached the left urn. Pretending to drop a bracelet, Anne dipped down to retrieve it, slipping the letter into the urn swiftly in the time it took to grab the bracelet and stand up. She continued on without a word.
Hopefully, Thomas could reply to her soon.
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The explanation he provided was enough to make Anne forgive him completely. Not that she could really stay angry at him long anyway. She smiled to Wyatt as he looked upon her, happy to have him so close again.
"I very much doubt that I could play so masterfully as Mark Smeaton, Sir Thomas," Anne replied with a defeated shrug.
"Well then you simply must show him your dance, Anne!" Mary chimed. "You're the only one here who participated, so only you know how it went."
"I could, but there were three other women with me for that part," Anne replied sheepishly.
"Well show him your part now, and maybe after he's recovered from his journey you can show Sir Thomas the dance of the Two Spirits," Mary grinned.
Unable to protest without looking suspicious, Anne simply nodded and stood up.
"You see, Sir Thomas, the play was a tribute to her majesty the Queen. Two spirits represented the King and Queen, and the four elements, earth, air, fire and water, blessed their union. I played Fire, your sister Margaret played Air."
As best she could, Anne stepped to a more open space where she could be seen and replicated her dance, completed a series of turns and moves as she had before. Once complete she bowed as she had, and the room erupted into applause, which startled Anne and made her blush.
"The original was much better, but that was my small part," Anne blushed darker as she addressed Thomas.
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He followed silently as Mary prodded Anne to perform the dance that Wyatt had missed seeing. George jumped up, clapping hands thrice and raising his voice to a, "Silence!" to interrupt the chatter in the room.
Wyatt turned around to watch. At least now he had a reason to look at Anne as intently as he wanted, which he did, smiling all the way. Mary was standing behind his chair and Wyatt thanked for it silently. Anne's siblings were the ones who could first spot the love he felt for their sister if he wasn't careful.
Suppressing a desire to whistle, Wyatt clapped his hands just as hard as the rest of the crowd.
"It was wonderful and the lack of music only emphasized your talent." He rose up and made a bow even if it was slightly comical with his boots standing alone behind him.
"And did you not say you represented Fire? Let me guess, in a gorgeous, flaming red dress?" He sat down again, touching his heart. "How can I ever forgive myself for not being there?"
He paused. "More than that, can you forgive, mistress Boleyn?"
So this wasn't the private place he had imagined but there was no reason to wait for the occasion.
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"Even half-frozen you continue to be the shameless flatterer, Sir Thomas - I am glad that the bitter north wind stole only your body's warmth and not your charming nature," Anne giggled a bit at his bow - he did indeed look silly in his bare feet, boots abandoned behind him.
"I did try to get her to wear a similar red gown, Master Wyatt," Mary grinned. "But my stubborn siblings can never be asked to do anything against their will - I am only glad she agreed upon this gown and not the grey frock she first chose."
Anne hardly heard Mary's voice. Her eyes followed the movement of his hand over his heart. The only sound she heard was Wyatt's voice, and the sincerity in his tone. With a smile Anne curtseyed low before bringing her gaze back up to meet his again.
"Do not let yourself be troubled, Sir Thomas. This is a most joyous season, is it not? I can indeed forgive you, and most readily do so," Anne paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Though I think we might agree that, as you missed such a lovely dance indeed, that you owe me one yourself, do we not? After you've recovered from your journey, of course."
"Anne. Mary. Did I not tell you both to cease pestering Master Wyatt?" The voice of Thomas Boleyn appeared again, and again both women went rigid. Of course he had seen Anne's dance just now, but had thought no ulterior motives of it, not yet.
It was just poor manners - and his orders would not be ignored.
"Master Wyatt will be in no shape to dance tonight, the hour draws late already," Boleyn turned to Thomas with a polite smile. "Forgive my daughters, Sir Thomas - as it happens, we have more festivities planned for tomorrow evening, when I'm sure you would be more willing for such pleasantries. If it pleases you to stay at Hever again tomorrow, as the weather shows no signs of improving, you are most welcome to do so."
Anne bit the side of her tongue to keep from grinning; hoping Thomas would accept the invitation. Both she and Mary got another look from their father as he turned to leave again, the message clear: 'Do not make me tell you again.' They were both quiet for several minutes after that.
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George snorted. Not paying heed, Wyatt continued, "I said to the wind: you can try to blow me back to south with all your might, but this time you cannot stop me from reaching Hever."
"We know what that thought was." George's grin died out as quickly as it had formed on his lips for Mary slapped his arm.
"The green dress is very becoming," Wyatt managed to say in between the Boleyn siblings' gentle bickering. He didn't have time to say more before the lord of the house came to interfere the discussion again. Almost feeling like he was being scolded as well, Wyatt figured the best course of action was to go along with Thomas Boleyn's suggestions. Besides, he was still shoeless which made him quite self-conscious.
"Thank you, Sir Thomas. I will gladly stay if it's not an inconvenience for you, or your honorable wife."
"Not at all."
"And you are absolutely right, it has been a long day and I should like to retire for the night." He took his boots and didn't let his expression to show how uncomfortable it was to put them back on. "I apologize for leaving your party while it is still underway."
Wyatt turned to George. "Will you show me a room to stay?"
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"I can show him, George," Anne offered. Before she could make an excuse for leaving herself, the ever-helpful Mary chimed in again.
"Indeed, with all the wine you've had tonight it's probably a good idea for you to be off to bed too, Nan," Mary nudged George again. "What do you think, George?"
Not wanting to give up the opportunity to socialize and woo another woman or two, George nodded. Though he grinned at Anne in a manner that made her want to smack him before their father saw. Luckily, Mary saw to that, giving their brother another slap in the arm before stepping away, blowing Anne a kiss goodnight.
"Follow me then, Sir Thomas," Anne smiled, turning out of the room towards the hall, before her father saw.
She led him down the hall from the library. Most of the guests were either downstairs in the kitchen or in the library itself. There weren't many people in the hall. Anne paused at a door before knocking, unsure if Mary or her parents had promised this room to another guest. When no answer came, she opened the door, finding it unoccupied she gestured for him to enter.
"You can stay here - we don't have so many guests as we did at our Masquerade, so you'll have the room to yourself," Anne gestured to the trunk at the foot of the bed. "If you get cold there are extra blankets in that trunk there."
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He went on to immediately throw his cloak and hat on the bed. It was an inviting looking bed, indeed. The large oak headboard was engraved with rose motifs. The pillows were full. He turned to smile at Anne, tilting his head.
"Is that it?" Was she satisfied with showing him the room so matter-of-factly? Wyatt reached for Anne's wrist and pulled her flushed against him, turning her hand behind her back and holding it there.
His grip wasn't particularly strong. She could have freed herself without trouble if she had wanted to. Still, the motion had been swift enough to leave her little time to react.
Wyatt's other hand came up between their faces, his thumb and forefinger pressed together, as if he was holding something between them. Slowly lifting the hand above their heads, his eyes followed the movement. Then he looked back at Anne.
"Mistletoe," he whispered before his lips covered hers. The kiss was gentle and closed-mouthed but lasting a good while. The tip of his nose was cold against her cheek.
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But Anne enjoyed it. Despite the chill and dampness of his clothes, she didn't feel whole without being pressed tight against him. Therefore she made no effort to free herself. Anne simply laughed a bit and shook her head.
Her eyes focused on his hand as it came between them. Anne's expression turned almost obviously puzzled. Her head tipped back a little to follow the movement of his hand. But as she saw his own eyes move back down in her peripheral vision, Anne brought her head back down as well to look at him.
Mistletoe, indeed! But he didn't give her time to give a witty remark. Anne held onto it in the back of her mind as she leaned up a little to return that kiss. Her cheeks were still flushed and hot from the wine, while his was still cold from the wind. Still, with how warm she was, his chill was welcome and refreshing.
After a long moment Anne pulled away slowly, tipping a brow at him teasingly.
"A few days too late for mistletoe, isn't it Master Wyatt?" As if he really needed a reason to steal a kiss from her. Still she kept her body pressed against his, not wanting to break away, not just yet.
Though she couldn't linger long.
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He stroked Anne's hair before releasing her completely and stepped back. Wyatt rolled his shoulders to ease the tension he'd got from the cold. Despite of the secret nature of them being together in this room, he wasn't actually thinking of taking her into bed with him. That might have been his initial plan, days ago, but it didn't seem so urgent now.
"Good night?" He knew she had to go and would not try to stop her.
After she'd leave, Wyatt would get undressed (leaving his linen undergarment on), hang his clothes over the chair by the door and slip under the layers of blankets - as many as already on the bed and as many as found from the trunk.
Closing his eyes Wyatt curled into a ball and succumbed to exhaustion. His last thought before sleep took over was the blushing but radiant face of Anne after her dance.
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"I'll hold you to that," Anne leaned up to kiss him again. Soft, sweet, the proper good night kiss that she had wanted the night before the performance. But she soon stepped away again with a bow of her head. "Good night, Thomas Wyatt."
Carefully she opened the door and listened. No sound, nor footsteps. She peeked out slowly and found the hall clear. So Anne wasted no time in ducking into the hallway and down to her own chamber. There were two maids still up to wait on her, and they removed her dress and jewels to help her slip into her nightgown. Anne dismissed them and crawled into bed.
It was another hour or two, and she still hadn't fallen asleep. Not with Thomas under the same roof. After all he'd gone through to come here, he could very well have died, frozen to death in the snow. She'd hardly thanked him at all...
Anne rose slowly, quietly. The music and frivolity had lessened - most of the guests in bed. Given the late hour, she was sure her father and mother had gone to bed at least - George could very well still be up. But Anne knew this territory, it was unlike sneaking around the castle in London, she knew what floorboards groaned and squeaked, and knew to avoid them. Nimbly she crept down the hall to Thomas's room. Quickly she opened the door and slipped inside. He was asleep, which brought a smile to her face.
But all those blankets, was he still cold? Anne slipped her nightgown from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She carefully approached the bed, feet silently moving across the floor. He was curled in a ball beneath the blankets - she slowly lifted the blankets and slid into bed beside him. Sure enough, there was still a chill beneath his skin. Anne wrapped her arms slowly around his middle, gently nuzzling and brushing her lips against the nape of his neck.
She didn't need to make love, not tonight. Not in the state he was in - he was obviously still freezing cold. That called for a more gentle touch, just a secure embrace so that he knew she was there. She was more than willing to provide such. Anne kept her body flush against Thomas's so that the heat from her skin could be absorbed into his.
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"Man overboard!!"
A massive wave swept over the ship, taking with it one of the sailors. Passengers looked on in horror as the man disappeared with a scream on his lips. Wyatt ducked down by the side of the vessel, huddling low and grasping onto ropes for his dear life. Another man in a similarly grave position looked over the railing and called for the captain.
"Forget him!" the captain yelled back. "He's gone."
A sharp pain cut across Wyatt as the man beside him elbowed him hard in the face by accident. His cry was lost in the storm and so was the scroll of King's papers he had been guarding. With the ship getting whisked in the air yet again, Wyatt could do nothing but to watch helplessly as the documents rolled across the deck and vanished in the icy depths of the English Channel.
"We're going to die...," whimpered the man who had just caused Wyatt to lose those papers.
"No, we're not," Wyatt replied angrily at such weak spirit. "The captain won't let that happen."
"What captain? There's no one at the wheel!" exclaimed a young woman, her flaming red dress soaked through.
Wyatt turned to look towards the bridge. There was no one! He blinked and at an instant the captain was there again - but he had King Henry's face. And he didn't seem at all concerned by the storm. Wyatt blinked again and the real captain was back at the wheel.
And then suddenly he felt his hands slipping from the rope. The ship was turning over. Wyatt tried to get hold of something solid but the woman landed on his back, pushing them both down and down... She grabbed his waist and her lips pressed against his neck.
Wyatt's body shuddered lightly at the feel of the woman wrapping around him. His hand reached for hers, lacing their fingers together. He moaned contently. The feel of warm air on his neck teased his eyes slowly open. He took a deep breath.
The realization that he wasn't alone in this bed startled him. Delicate hands were indeed wrapped around him but there were no layers of clothing between them. He could definitely feel a naked body behind him.
"Hmhh... miss?" he managed to mumble until he began to understand where he was.
Closer examination of the hands, as dark as the room was, left him with little doubt.
"Anne?" He smiled sleepily, wanting to turn around but couldn't without possibly crushing her.
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"Sorry to disappoint you if you were expecting some other lady," she chuckled. Anne leaned in to kiss his temple finding his skin slick with sweat from his dream and the blankets.
With a frown of concern she brought her free hand up to push some of his curls from his forehead.
"Are you all right, Thomas?" Anne pursed her lips in thought. "What on earth were you dreaming? You're drenched in a cold sweat...though I hope it's only that and not that you're sick from your journey..."
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"Other lady?" He frowned, processing those words. "She had a red dress. It was you. She was you." He smiled despite of the mild discomfort of being both cold and hot from the nightmare.
Her touch felt heavenly.
"I am alright. I don't feel sick, just... I missed you." He chuckled, reaching out to stroke her shoulder. "You're something, you know that? Coming to my bed like this."
He pushed away two layers of covers. One of them fell on the ground. With Anne cuddling close, he didn't need so many blankets.
"Come here, my love." He settled on his back with his arms open so that she could lie next to his heart.
"There was a storm, the ship was about to sink," he started to explain. "Um, in my dream, not the ship I took. You were there, holding me, like you just did."
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"I missed you too, my love. My Thomas," Anne again brushed her lips against his neck. "What other woman would be brazen enough to sneak into your chamber?"
She kissed his neck again, chuckling slightly against his skin. "I doubt you'd love me so much if I were as meek and timid as any other maid."
Anne was content to just lie there like that. Cuddled against him, letting him take in the warmth of her own body after being so cold for so long. She listened quietly as he explained his dream, her fingers brushing softly against his chest.
"You've no need to fret any longer," Anne whispered. "I'm here. I'll always be here."
For as long as she could, as often as she could. So long as she had an ounce of freedom left, Anne would come back to him. Back to this.
"Mmm, if only we could stay like this forever," Anne sighed against his skin.
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"I can't think of one who would do this under her father's roof, no. But meek you are sometimes, Anne Boleyn, if you choose to be. I do love you even then.
I have seen them gentle, tame and meek,
That now are wild and do not remember
That sometime they put themselves in danger...
...with naked foot stalking in my chamber."
Turning his head, Wyatt blindly sought for her lips for a brief kiss.
"Promise me, love, that you'll never put yourself in unnecessary danger. If you don't, we can have many more nights like this."
He fell quiet, letting his own breathing catch the rhythm of her breathing. One hand travelled low to her rear. A sudden realization opened his eyes.
"It's the new year, already, isn't it? Hmh. Happy new year," he whispered.
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"Why should I have reason to do anything that would endanger us? Endanger you?" For she had done plenty of things that had endangered herself. Or, more accurately, said things that had endangered herself. "I shall be as careful as I can. I want as many nights with you as I can possibly have."
Her body arched as his hand traveled lower, pressing more against him as she let out a slight giggle and moved to brush a kiss to his jaw.
"It is indeed," she replied, tipping her face up again so that her lips just barely dusted against his as she spoke. "Happy new year, my love."
Anne pressed her lips against his, a bit harder than his kiss before. She pulled away slowly, looking up at him through the dark.
"Let us hope that this new year brings us more good fortune."
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Getting those lovely little kisses all over his face and body and having her tempting figure pressed against him was a sure way to make him moan quietly. As she applied more pressure with her lips, Wyatt opened his mouth and let his tongue wet her bottom lip. He shuddered again, moving his legs under the blanket.
Another repressed gasp followed the reaction his body was having at such an intimate embrace. Anne might feel it, too, depending on how she was positioned next to him, or top of him. At any rate, she might guess; they had been together enough of times for her to see this happen. He didn't mnd but neither did he want to act on it.
"Good fortunes... hmm. I wonder how hard I need to work for my good fortune tomorrow." He was thinking about Anne wanting a play of seduction from him.
((OOC: Not so great a tag but it's been a long day today. I still wanted to write something.))
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Anne had indeed figured that such a reaction might occur. As much as she may have wanted to take advantage of the opportunity, as they got them so rarely, she knew rest was probably the best thing for him. But it didn't mean that her desire was so easily held back. It took quite a bit of effort on her part not to let her hands wander south.
But no, they stayed where they were - one beneath her own body, the other draped across his chest. Anne chuckled at his words and at the movement of his tongue. She tipped her head a bit to brush a trail of kisses from his jaw to his ear.
"You've been issued a challenge, my dear Thomas," Anne whispered, letting her tongue tease against the lobe of his ear. "The attention of a falcon is not so easily won."
Of course she wouldn't make it too terribly difficult for him. He wouldn't have to do anything strenuous. Just a bit of fun, a little more risk to make the reward that much sweeter.
((ooc: It's fine! I appreciate you writing after a long day (because God knows we've all had those) and it was a good tag!!))
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"But when she catches sight of her prey, the falcon will not give up until she's got what she wanted, is that not so? That is where I'm putting my faith in," he teased back.
"I hope I'm still able to surprise you. I had plenty of time to think about you when I journeyed across the country and slept in lonely beds."
Wyatt sighed deeply, his body sinking into the bed. "I'm tired, but there's satisfaction in knowing I did what I was sent out to do and got back to you before the old year ended."
He was looking forward to spending the next day and the next night in her company. What more could he want?
"Are you going to be gone by morning?"
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"That's true, but there are special cases - and you my dear are the most special case of all," Anne chuckled. "I look forward to seeing what you have in store. You're brilliant even when you only have a few moments. I can only imagine what you think up when you have a few days to plan."
Her eyes drifted closed, sleep numbing her senses and making her drowsy. "I am glad you came when you did. My bed and body have been terribly lonely without you, my love."
Still she nodded slowly, very slowly, at his question.
"I shall be gone before the sun rises," to avoid getting caught. "Have no fear, you shall see me again come morning."
Despite her fatigue a mischievous smirk played across her face. "If you succeed in wooing me, dear Sir Thomas, you shall indeed see me again here in your bed."
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Regardless, Wyatt still hoped he'd be able to steal Anne away from the other guests during the day. A private moment here and there, to give her glimpses of the pleasures he would grant her when the night fell again.
"I look forward to morning, my love." He gathered her close.
He intended to say something else, just as soon he was done soaking in her nearness. He considered telling her about visiting her beloved France.
But the bed was soft and sleep was taking over. Wyatt found himself under a warm summer sun. Light flickered through the canopy of trees and Anne was lying next to him, plucking petals of a flower. A steady knocking sound made by a woodpecker mixed in with the buzzing of bees.
"Master Wyatt!" the woodpecker called. The knocking intensified. "Master Wyatt?"
He startled awake, revealing his head from below the blankets. "Yes?!" he called back, not yet aware of his true surroundings.
The door was opened and a male servant stepped in. Wyatt quickly got up to a sitting position and glanced around. He was alone in the bed. Anne was gone. Relieved of that fact, he turned to face the servant.
"Yes?" Wyatt rubbed his face. His hair stuck out in all directions.
"Breakfast is served, Master Wyatt, if you would like." The man placed a clean white shirt at the foot of the bed.
"Um, ah... thank you," he replied, still half-asleep. The servant disappeared.
Wyatt fell back on the bed, streching his body and getting his thoughts straight. Then he got up to dress himself. He wondered if the clean shirt was something that Anne had asked for him or if was by the orders of her mother. It was a nice gesture regardless.
Wyatt could see from the windows that there was still snow on the ground but the wind had calmed. There was some promise of a sunny day. He enterd the dining room, greeting everyone present, hoping to see Anne.
"Wyatt! Here, I've been saving a chair for you. You must be hungry." George waved his hand at him.
((OOC: I had to give him a clean shirt :P. You can decide who is responsible for it.))
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Anne could hear the servants bustling in the kitchen and the dining room below, but no such stirring upstairs. Quickly she slipped from his room and started for her own. There came the voice of her father from down the hall, and it was all Anne could do to duck into her room and shut the door before she heard his approach. She leaned against the door, her hand over her mouth to silence her breathing.
But he was passing her room, barking orders to a servant who no doubt followed him. Instructions on what to prepare for breakfast for his guests. As their voices faded, Anne breathed again and slipped into bed. Some hour or two later her own servants knocked and entered her chamber. They roused their still-drowsy mistress and got her dressed in a fine blue gown with a band of sapphires and pearls to decorate her hair. Anne then made her way downstairs and found her sister and parents already seated at the great table as the servants set tray upon tray of food upon it. George joined them shortly after Anne and sat across from her. As she plucked a pastry from one of the trays Anne pointed out the sorry state of Thomas's clothes that she had noticed yesterday, indirectly putting the suggestion in her mother's head that he should have a clean shirt. Elizabeth took the bait and sent a servant to fetch their guest a clean shirt and take it to him. As the servant left to obey, more guests began assembling at the table.
There was much to eat at the table: bread, ale, even beef considering the Boleyn wealth. The pastries were a favorite of Anne and Mary, who had developed a liking for them in France, thus many guests were surprised to see that particular menu item. Elizabeth was whispering business to her husband when Wyatt approached - Anne, in an effort to make it seem as though his presence was nothing special, continued nibbling her pastry.
"Good morning Master Wyatt!" Mary greeted him cheerfully. "Did you sleep well?"
Anne looked up as anyone would look up to hear his response, though she knew what the answer was likely to be. But already she noticed that several guests were summoning servants to ready their horses, as they were preparing to leave. Which made sense, the weather had improved a great deal.
This suited Anne fine - it meant a much more intimate gathering later that evening. And less guests to catch her with Thomas.
((Had to look up breakfast of the Tudor era since I had NO idea - if you want to add a menu item feel free!))
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Wyatt laughed apologetically and patted his stomach. "I am starving, that is true. And thank you for asking, Mary, I couldn't have slept better. I doubt I had woken up even if there had been a thunderstorm." His dreams had been a little wild but that was a minor detail.
He got seated and finally managed to cast a direct look at Anne; a friendly smile and a nod.
"There's a healthy color at your face again. You were quite a sight last night," George noted while pushing plates of meat in Wyatt's direction. A servant filled a cup for him.
"I must have been," he admitted, "but the bed was so warm, I swear it felt like the frost was kissed off from my face." Wyatt moved his hands under the table to make sure that the little ring Anne had given him was turned the right way in his finger, the gems facing his palm. After that he took hold of the knife and cut himself some bread.
"This is the whitest bread I have seen in a long time," he praised, bringing the piece close to his nose.
"Make sure you leave room for our special treat, pears preserved in mead," Mary cut in, eyes bright. "The recipe has been passed on through the generations."
"I will be sure to try them, then. And you, miss Anne, is there something you'd like to recommend?"
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The soft sweetness of the bread and the saltiness of the pork was indeed delicious. Anne always did feel privileged to have such luxuries.
Mary bragged about the pears, but Anne had never cared for them. As much as she enjoyed sweets, the mead-preserved pears had always been a bit too sweet for her palate. Her dark eyes glanced up as Thomas posed the question to her. Anne looked thoughtful for a moment before pushing the plate of pastries towards him. Delicately iced, they each had various fillings in the centers, some were cherry while others, Anne's favorite, were apple.
"If it's something sweet you'd like, these are my favorites, always have been," Anne replied. "The apple pastries there are particularly good."
As if to prove her point, Anne bit into her own pastry and chewed slowly, taking a moment to lick the icing from her lips.
"Take care not to eat too many Nan, you'll either get a terrible toothache or you'll grow rounder than Saint Nicholas himself!" Mary laughed as she teased.
Anne had been mid-bite when Mary had started speaking and froze in her place when the sentence was finished. She glared at her sister before taking her bite and chewing slowly again.
"You eat just as many as I, Mary. Take care to mind your own advice dear sister," Anne teased her sister right back. Though Mary didn't take kindly to it and took a long sip of her drink.
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Thomas Boleyn cleared his throat as Anne and Mary picked on each other, making George, who was just about to join his sisters with the insults, change his mind. Wyatt would have wanted to take Anne's side but he too realized this was not the time for it. He did glance at her quickly before sinking his teeth into the pork. Battling the weather the previous day had been well worth it to be able to feast at this table. Wyatt couldn't help but sigh as the greasy piece of meat traveled down to his stomach.
"Thank you for such a warm welcome to your home, Sir Thomas," he started before swallowing properly. "I'd like to offer the invitation for you, and to your wife, to visit Allington at your chosen time. Father would no doubt be pleased to entertain good friends."
"Thank you, Master Wyatt. Let's hope there comes such a time soon."
"And may I also thank whoever was kind enough to ask a servant to bring me a new shirt this morning. It was very thoughtful indeed."
"It was mother," Mary was quick to say. Elizabeth Boleyn simply smiled at the end of the table and Wyatt nodded at her direction. Still, he did wonder if that was the whole truth. Mayhaps it was the truth that Mary was aware of.
George was wiping his plate with a piece of bread and then going for a second round with the food. "We had plans to go riding after breakfast. Me and William here," he said, meaning a dark haired man sitting next to him. "You must come along." William was the youngest son of a minor noble, a shy young man who would probably not amount to much in his own right but who was a friendly sort all the same. Wyatt knew little of him but had of course seen the man at court at times.
"Sounds like I can't say no," he replied, yet thinking that George's aim was to get rid of the ladies. He really could not say no. Thankfully the day had just began and he was sure there would be enough opportunities to be with Anne as well.
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Mary may have chirped up and given their mother all the credit for delivery of the clean shirt to Thomas, but Anne's mouth gave a slight twitch. Of course she wouldn't outright call her out. But her eyes did flicker up to Thomas, winking quickly before Anne bit into her pastry again - a bit of sweetness to combat the saltiness of the pork.
"We couldn't have you walking around in those damp clothes of yours all day again, Master Wyatt," Anne added. "You'd catch your death of cold!"
Anne pitied Wyatt's poor horse, having to endure the traveling yesterday only to have to run about with her brother's steed again today. But she said nothing and her expression betrayed no displeasure. Mary had already expressed interest in wandering the snow-covered gardens. Anne didn't care for the cold, but coming in from it usually meant hot mulled wine afterwards, which Anne enjoyed immensely.
Besides, and this brought a smirk to Anne's face, she had plans of her own - there would be plenty of time to spend with Thomas later.
"Let the boys have their fun, we'll have a snowball fight of our own, won't we Nan?" Mary giggled.
"Not in those dresses you won't!" Elizabeth Boleyn snapped.
"Of course not, mother," Anne smiled diplomatically at her mother but glanced to Mary with pure mischief glowing in her eyes.
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