happyfalcon | Prompt: Masquerade

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Prompt: Masquerade

((ooc: As always, free for anyone to tag, just beware the historical inaccuracies!))

Few things made Anne happier than dressing up. A masquerade ball at her family's castle at Hever before All Hallow's Eve was just what she had needed. Mary and her mother came from France to join the festivities, and George was finishing his own outfit in his room. Anne herself had prepared a fine blue gown and a nicer mask to match. She pinned some of her dark hair back and let it fall in waves down her back.

After she tied the mask behind her head, donned the dress and proper jewels, Anne made her way downstairs. Only a few guests had arrived, all clad in masks and laughing gaily. Anne recognized a few voices, and of course she recognized the goofy gait and teasing of her brother George. But others she didn't recognize.

Still, she enjoyed the atmosphere.

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((ooc: So like, RIGHT after I messaged you this popped into my head, so A. Feel free to ignore my message xD and B. Let me know if you really would rather go another route than what I have here, I'm absolutely willing to edit!))

The precise same thought entered her mind: How foolish she had been, to think that the feelings he claimed for her were strong enough for him to want to protect her, rather than continue stirring in the shadows. Anne bit down so hard on her own tongue it was a miracle she didn't bite straight through it. She looked away as he groped about for his mask.

Don't let him see, don't let him know - she couldn't let him see the tears in her eyes. She couldn't let him see how deep this had hurt her. Anne had to pretend, had to be strong, had to be cruel. Even if she felt like crumbling inside. Unable to fight the reflexes of her body, Anne turned, reached out to him, her arm trembling a bit - thank heaven he was turned at that point.

"Thomas, I-" No, her voice was cracking too much, she didn't dare say anything more, lest it fail and betray her.

She turned, and left, tying her mask over her face to conceal herself. God forbid her father or George see her in such a state! Anne returned to the castle, but not to the festivities. She summoned a maid upon returning, keeping her back to the wall to hide how loosely laced her gown had been. Anne told the maid that she was ill, feigning drunken sluggishness to make her story more believable, and potentially explain her disheveled appearance. She bid the maid to tell her father that she was not feeling well, and that she would retire early.

The maid obeyed, and Anne left to her bedroom. She sent her remaining maids away, not wanting contact with anyone else for the remainder of the evening. Anne violently tugged at the ribbon of her mask and threw it away. She was just as violent with the laces of her dress, getting them just loose enough so that she could wrench herself free of the garment before falling to her bed. Under the cover of her blankets, she released herself of the bonds of propriety. She was alone now, it couldn't hurt. Anne buried her face in her hands and wept miserably.

Edited (wow...spelling...) 2014-07-23 23:21 (UTC)

((OOC: Finally here and more or less back to my usual schedule now.
Feel free to make them meet at the stables or somewhere else.))

Wyatt returned to the castle slowly after Anne, wondering what she had tried to tell him before leaving. From love to hate, and thence for to relent? Of course she had her pride as well. He wouldn't care for her if she didn't. He wasn't turned on by women who echoed everything men said even if that would have been the easier choice. Anne certainly wasn't easy.

The entrance to Hever was lit by torches. Wyatt stopped to look at it. As much as he loved his own home, there was no denying Hever was a gorgeous little castle. Normally he would have been delighted to walk under the portcullis, now he had to drag his feet.

Once inside, he was practically hit by a lightning. That lightning came in the form of George Boleyn who - seemingly out of nowhere - slapped his hand on Wyatt's shoulder and laughed heartily.

"Thomas! I see you've been enjoying yourself. No, don't tell me which maid-" George's hand grabbed the lapel of Wyatt's jacket and flung it playfully. "For pity's sake, get dressed. I wouldn't mind but my father is still the master of this manor." Laughing some more, George waved at his lady friend across the hall and was gone. Wyatt stood there for a split moment, dumbstruck, before he gathered himself and quickly fastened the clasps of his doublet.

The rest of the evening went in a haze for him. When Wyatt realized Anne wasn't among the guests, he resented her good luck of escaping the party. There was no excuse he could have used to do the same. Though he did consider himself lucky in that Mary, Anne's sister with whom he had promised to dance with, was too occupied with other guests. Wyatt did't have trouble finding company with the men who were emptying the wine kegs.

Later, lying on a cot he was given, in a room with a dozen guests, his mind was drafting a poem that hopefully he'd remember the next day.

Is it possible
That so high debate,
So sharp, so sore, and of such rate,
Should end so soon that was begun so late?
Is it possible?

Come morning, Wyatt managed to get up at a decent hour. He kindly declined the offer of a breakfast (lest he see Anne there) and headed towards the stables. His first stop was at the well, where he splashed cold water on his face to actually wake himself up.

((ooc: Good, good - hope you had fun!! :) ))

For all her emotional exhaustion and fatigue, Anne could not sleep. Once her tears had stopped, Anne took to staring out her window, seeking solace in the stars and moon in the night sky. But there was no comfort now.

Begrudgingly, she rose when the sun came again. Anne let the servants dress her in a riding gown with a slit in the front of her dress to allow her to ride more comfortably. Perhaps her favorite horse could give her some comfort.

Perhaps astride him when he ran would help her feel free, if only for a moment.

As the guests assembled for breakfast, Anne took a small pastry from a tray and nibbled absently at it. As she glanced about she noticed that Thomas was not among the other guests. A quick question of a servant girl confirmed that he had indeed spent the night, but had declined breakfast.

Had he gone already? That thought hurt Anne once again, worse than before. He did not wish to reconcile, clearly, if he had left without speaking to her.

Still she made her way to the stable. Honestly Anne did not expect to see Thomas there. And when she looked up and saw him at the well, her throat closed, silencing her.

He hadn't left. But what to say? What could she do?

"...Are you truly so cruel to leave things as they are?" She finally managed, leaning against one of the support beams. "Or without saying goodbye, at least?"

She was unable to stop herself from continuing:

"And will you leave me thus?"

Edited 2014-07-29 01:58 (UTC)

((OOC: Yes, I did. Lots of nice things to do and see and I was able to get work off my mind.))

He didn't expect to see her. Wyatt glanced nervously around, making sure there wasn't anyone close enough to hear him. Talking to Anne was nothing out of the ordinary or off-limits but Wyatt feared his body language and tone of voice would out him. The one person he especially didn't wish to witness the moment was of course her father. Thomas Boleyn didn't have a reason to suspect anything but most fathers tended to be oddly perceptive (or skeptical) about their daughters.

Wyatt wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. God she looked good! He could spend all day looking at her. However, his words didn't reflect that thought as he opened his mouth.

"Why are you here?" She could have easily avoided him. Besides, Wyatt didn't appreciate having the lines of his own poem thrown at his face. Hence he was not able to keep his voice quite as neutral as he would have preferred.

"I don't want to say goodbye," he hissed between his teeth. "Don't you know that?"

He grabbed his saddlebag but made no attempt to leave yet. Only now realizing what she was wearing, Wyatt had to ask, "Where are you going?" Like it was any of his business.

((ooc: That's good!! Believe me, I can sympathize with needing to get a break from work...))

Anne was not so dim-witted as to let her father get suspicious to begin with. He may have been wary of her whereabouts, but Thomas Boleyn was a bit more concerned with his welfare and fortune than he was with Anne. So she knew full well how to play that to her advantage.

She tried to fight the urge to show how hurt she was at his words. Anne bit the side of her tongue to keep her mouth taut, to keep her lips from turning into the frown they wanted to turn into. Still, she did give a slight shrug and glance to one of the horses when he asked that, bringing one hand up to stroke the beast's velvet nose.

"Why should I have reason to be in my family's stables?" She pointed out. "But, to answer your question, I did not wish to leave things as they were."

Anne glanced up to him, giving a slight sigh. Perhaps this had not been a good idea.

"But, if you'd rather not discuss it; if you'd prefer to leave things bitter as they are, I suppose I am powerless against it," she tilted her head a bit, turning to face him more fully. "Though I would indeed like to convince you otherwise..."

As if anxious for her touch again, the horse nudged his head out of the stall and nudged his snout against Anne's shoulder. A slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and Anne reached up to stroke his nose again. It gave her time to ponder his question.

"I'm not sure really," Anne confessed. "I thought a ride might clear my head - might raise my spirits. Besides, a full gown might make me look out of place here, considering I wanted to speak to you, don't you think?"

"You've changed your mind?" This time his voice was merely questioning, not tense anymore, though it did require some effot to keep it that way. Wyatt ran his fingers through his hair. He had been drinking quite a lot last night and therefore wasn't in his best frame of mind for intelligent conversation.

"As I recall you were not keen to discuss matters the last I saw you." But really, he did not wish to be confrontational anymore. It took too much energy. And as far as he could tell, she wanted good relations to reign between them again. He could afford to let her explain. Wyatt nodded his silent agreement.

"You, boy!" he yelled at a young stable boy who was walking by with an armload of hay. The youth came running and greeted Anne first, then Wyatt. "Saddle the horses, please. For the lady, and for me. The dark bay in the corner," he pointed towards his trusted gelding.

"Did you say you had plans to ride past the church, my lady? I am more than happy to accompany you there." The St Peter's Church, up the hill. It was ridiculous, perhaps, to play it out like that, but Wyatt wanted to leave the impression (yes, in front of a mere boy) that it was purely accidental that he'd be riding out with Anne. Which it was - accidental - though he was about to make it less so. They would ride together further than the church.

The boy worked swiftly and in no time Wyatt had helped Anne on her horse and then himself.

Anne started to respond, but then he called to the young stable boy and she thought it wise to hold her tongue. She smiled to the lad when he greeted her - he was a faithful young man, he took good care of her favorite horses on any given day.

"I did indeed - I thought it might do my horse some good to have a nice, long run," Anne replied with the flawless smile and charm she was so known for. When she wanted to be, she could be quite the actress. "I see no reason why we can't share company, Sir Thomas, as long as we both happen to be heading in the same direction."

It always amazed her to see how quick the stableboy saddled the horses. It didn't take him terribly long to dress her horse and Anne was only too happy to let Wyatt help her up. Even if there was no affection in that touch, even if he was only trying to be polite, she loved it; loved feeling his touch.

Anne waited for him to climb into his own saddle before nudging her horse's sides and sending the beast into a run. She kept a tight grip on the reins so as not to fall, and it didn't take long to reach the church. Still, Anne turned her horse a bit farther, though she slowed him down to a canter and waited for Thomas to catch up.

"You did not seem so keen to hear matters either, Thomas," Anne pointed out, able to continue their conversation without much fear of being overheard now. She paused, her teeth worrying her lower lip. "But I..."

She sighed in exasperation.

"Thomas, I simply could not leave things the way we did last night...do you truly disagree?" Anne shook her head.

When Anne took off like that, Wyatt couldn't help but snort. "I shall see you off to the church," he said, as if she was still there. No one heard him, though. The stable boy had already returned to his other duties.

He didn't try to race her, being too tired for games, but he did gallop after her, pleased to leave Hever behind him. Slowing down to ride beside her, Wyatt was quiet a while.

"I do disagree," he replied softly, "but not out of spite. I mean, what does it really matter? Will it make you feel so much better to pretend all is well?"

The harvested fields stretched out in front of them. Wyatt looked straight ahead, not at her. It was easier to distance himself from the difficulties of the conversation that way.

"I don't have answers or solutions, Anne. I came to your party last night without expectations. You turned it to something else. I've told you I want to see you. That's all I know. If it's not good enough for you, what is?"

((OOC: I know we didn't discuss a set canon point - since this is AU anyway - but are you ok with dating this to a time when Henry's interest in Anne is not yet public knowledge?
You've been mentioning Henry but it's just been Anne's internal dialogue, so those comments wouldn't mess up this idea. I figure that Wyatt is only suspecting things atm but doesn't know anything for sure. It would be nice to play it him founding out.))

Edited 2014-07-31 21:33 (UTC)

((ooc: That's fine with me! It kind of works to Anne's benefit too, as she would have no real affection for the king at that point.))

Anne glanced to him, hurt that he would not look at her. But she simply shook her head and returned the action, turning her eyes forward towards the fields and trees beyond.

"I would feel better if some manner of solution could be reached, Thomas, is that so wrong?" Anne's reply was a bit sharper than she had intended, but she did not appreciate being blamed for the course of the previous night. "I do not expect you to have answers on your own, Thomas. But I would expect, if you indeed had any feelings for me that you would respect me enough to discuss this rationally."

Though it occurred to Anne...

"And as I recall it was you who kissed me first, who turned it into something more. But...I had no quarrel with that," Anne continued. "Thomas I want to see you, only...it is complicated. We cannot have it so simply as we once did."

She tried to stay cold and distant, dark eyes focused away from him. Anne debated telling him; for the moment her relations with the king were quiet, and meant to be so. Besides, she tells herself, if he's really as cold and uncaribg as he's coming off now, will it really matter to him?

"Though I may want it to be..."

"It's not wrong," he replied slowly, taking a quick look at her expression. He noted her sad face, her head shaking. Anne probably wouldn't want to know, but he felt sorry for her. She was a woman not in charge of her own fate. Maybe she had not meant all that she said the previous night. It was up to him to make her feel better about this one thing.

"I'm here, riding with you." By his free will. He didn't have to be.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he glanced at Anne a bit longer this time. "Come now. You wanted to dance with me outside in the gardens. What is that if not inviting a kiss?"

He wouldn't call it blaming her but he sure hadn't initiated a secret meeting. Never would he regret it, though. "It was a good kiss. Anne..." He looked at her properly now. "Truce?"

Edited 2014-07-31 23:01 (UTC)

If she knew that's how he felt, that he felt sorry for her, Anne would indeed have been annoyed. Not at him, but at herself for showing her weakness. Still, when he looked to her, Anne tipped her head a bit and wore a feigned stern expression. She had to admit that her invitation to dance outside hadn't been entirely innocent.

"It was hot inside the castle," Anne tried to keep her frown but it ended up breaking into a smile. "And just a good kiss?"

Anne nodded slowly in agreement to the truce. She did not enjoy arguing with him, it always left her sad and lonesome. Still, she knew this wasn't a full solution to the problem.

"But what happens now, Thomas? We never did decide how to proceed..." she pointed out.

Wyatt was happy to see her smile again and to return a smile but he was still too stubborn to actually apologize. Between yesterday and now, too much had happened and he needed time to process everything. They seemed to be moving towards a mutual agreement again, but there was no guarantee of a favourable outcome.

Relaxing a bit, he felt comfortable enough to tease her more. "Very hot, and even hotter outside of it." Guiding his horse closer to hers, he added, "My good lady, I refuse to believe you would wish to hear a more detailed description than a good kiss."

He sighed at her question. He was no wiser than a moment ago. "I don't know. What are the possibilities? Would you live with me if I won't get a divorce?" He knew that was a lot to ask, but it needed to be said out loud.

Anne shot him a teasing glare as he moved his horse closer to hers. It was good to be able to laugh and smile again with him. For others, Anne had to put on a front, but with Thomas she could be her true self.

"I just happen to think there are better adjectives for that kiss than 'good'," Anne replied.

She was quiet for several minutes, considering the suggestion. For a moment she just imagined living with him, being with him. Married or not, Anne could be content.

"If we could.." Anne sighed. "But we can't...for more than one reason."

Her images and dreams of being with him, waking up with him, were slowly fading away as Henry's forboding shadow loomed over her mind.

He simply raised his eyebrows and grinned thinking about the kiss and everything that followed it. "It was a roundabout way to imply the kiss was beyond good but I see I failed to get my message across. Never mind."

As Anne fell silent, so did Wyatt. He wasn't so foolish as to think she'd cheerfully jump at the chance to be his mistress (and to let the world to know it) but as Anne didn't say anything for quite some time, he almost hoped she was considering it.

And then she refused. "No... you deserve better." He shook his head, understanding. "Believe me, I didn't ask it lightly." He could live like that but he didn't wish public scorn on her.

His marriage was an obstacle in itself. Unsurmountable, it seemed. But it wasn't the only one and he needed to know what else he was up against. Anne had never explained why she had turned away from him. He could only make intelligent guesses about it.

"I believe it's time for honesty, don't you think? I'm married, yes, but would it even change anything if I wasn't? Your father... I know he wants to make a good match for you. Is that on the works as we speak?"

Honesty. Not such an unreasonable request but not a simple one by any means. Anne tugged the reins, bringing her horse to a atop. How to explain?

Or rather, how to explain without making him think that she's at all happy about it?

"He does...and it is..." A deep breath. "He wishes me to court the King, and to do a better job than Mary, at that."

So it was obvious then that her father cared not for public scorn of her. No woman who pursued the King ever had a decent reputation at court.

Reputation, when it came down to it, mattered little to Anne, though not in the case of the King. If she were to throw away her reputation, it would need to be for a worthy cause: Love, loyalty. Things the King of England knew little about.

Anne couldn't look at Thomas, she could already feel her chest growing tight as her emotions began war within herself.

"I do not think that it is a matter of my deserving better, Thomas. I would like to think that it's about my deserving to be happy, or at least free to make my own choice."

"He wants you in Henry's bed?"

It was as if Wyatt's horse was as unsettled to hear the news as he was; it kept takings nervous sidesteps and not stopping despite of his efforts. Finally managing to face Anne, he tried to catch her eyes but she was avoiding looking at him. Well, now he knew what he was up against.

"I shouldn't be surprised but... The King is as firmly married as I am." He thought of Mary, the rumours that surrounded her, and he thought of Bessie Blount whom the King had discarded earlier. So now Anne, his Anne, was to be the next.

"Damn him! Damn your father!" he blurted out.

He didn't want to think how far things had already gone during the last few months. Henry didn't have a habit of waiting for women. Though something she said made Wyatt wonder...

"Do you want the King if he's the one to make you happy?"

Edited 2014-08-03 17:41 (UTC)

"He does," Anne nodded slowly, reluctantly. Her father would approve of her shattering the king's marriage, but if he knew of her depth of affection for Thomas, he would have flown into a rage.

Still, Thomas' outburst startled her a bit, demanded her direct attention - so she looked up at him. In a strange way, she was glad for his anger towards her father; to her, it meant that he saw how utterly ridiculous and hypocritical this plan seemed as well. The king had discarded Mary, among countless others, and now she would be lucky to find a mediocre husband, let alone a good one as their father claimed to want for his daughters. Would the same fate befall her? Would the king discard Anne as well, and render her a social pariah whom no man would even consider marrying?

How could her father tolerate such a thing? His lofty ambitions would cost far too much in the end, at least in Anne's opinion.

"It's a null point because he does not make me happy," Anne replied. "The king is coarse, greedy - as a king ought to be, I suppose."

But that was not the way to Anne's heart. Suddenly a memory occurred to her and Anne's mouth twisted in a half-amused smirk.

"He thinks me some common chambermaid, I think. He seems to think that by giving me gifts and fine jewels that I'll melt and fall prey to his advances," Anne snapped. "I sent them back. But still he writes and sends more gifts in their place."

They were fine gifts indeed, there was no doubt of that; and her father had been terribly angry when he learned of her refusal. But Anne had no interest in Henry. The letters he wrote her seemed terribly ideal - clearly he was saying what he thought she wanted to hear. Trying to woo her and seduce her with his pen.

Wyatt would consider marrying her regardless, and he would have told her so had Anne voiced her concerns out loud. In fact, the thought already crossed his mind but out of propriety he kept quiet about it. He wasn't about to say 'when the King is done with you, I'll still want you'.

But then, what could he say? He was pleased to know Anne didn't care for the King, at least not yet, but hearing about the many gifts she had been given wasn't exactly comforting.

"I see... It's not just your father's wish. It's the King's wish as well." The motives of those two men no doubt varied but they seemed to have a mutual agenda.

Trying to seduce a woman with his pen. That wasn't far from true in Wyatt's case, either. The difference was, he couldn't add jewellery to his letters.

His face turned into a frown as he sighed a desperate, "Anne-". Blood rushed through him; he needed to get away. Not from her but from the situation. So Wyatt did what Anne had did when leaving the stables. After giving her a nod to follow, he urged his horse into a fast-paced gallop across the fields.

Riding gave him the much needed rush but with all the wine in his veins, he had to pause quicker than he wanted. Jumping down, and throwing the reins carelessly over a low-hanging tree branches, he stumbled a few steps and stopped to catch his breath.

Edited 2014-08-04 21:16 (UTC)

He had sent her gifts, but Anne had sent them away. That should have been proof enough that Anne wasn't interested in trinkets. Henry could send her the royal treasury but it would not coax her to his bed. There was also a very distinct difference between Thomas' written word and Henry's.

Thomas always wrote in a soft sweetness that she loved. Henry, as she said, was direct and coarse in his phrases.

"They do," she nodded. "But no one bothers to consider my wishes..."

The second part was a soft addition, quiet. There was no subtle hint of bitterness in it either. She was indeed angry. Her father thrust her into this, without regard for her concerns and her desires. His only concern had been for his own fortune.

Damn him, indeed.

Anne looked up to Thomas again and turned her horse to follow as he beckoned her. She kicked her horse's sides, spurring him on after Thomas. Though when he slowed to a stop, she did the same. Anne slid slowly from her saddle, landing gracefully on her feet. She followed his motion, setting her reins on a branch before stepping up to him.

"Thomas?" She tilted her head a bit to get a better look at him, to make sure that he was all right.

Wyatt rubbed his face and pushed his hair off of his forehead. When Anne called for him with such a soft, concerned voice, his mouth formed an uncertain little smile. Then he pulled her against himself, turning her so that they were both facing the same direction. Hands around her middle, Wyatt pressed a cheek to the side of her face and breathed deeply.

"I have always liked this spot right here," he whispered. The landscape was only gently undulating around these parts, but from where they were standing, a fine view of the fields and a river in the distance was given for their eyes to admire.

Wyatt kissed her ear. "I understand why you didn't want to tell me. Why you couldn't tell me. I just wish- I'm sorry you've had to carry such a secret."

He swayed Anne in his arms. "I can't compete with the King. I feel as though... my hands are tied."

He stared at the scenery before them. He would not be able to look at it again without remembering this sadness.

"Do I have to let you go, Anne Boleyn? I love you."

As Thomas grabbed her, Anne let out a small yelp. But it felt so good, so nice to be held in his arms. As his hands slid around her and he spoke, Anne looked up to take in the scenery. It was indeed beautiful, it brought a smile to her face despite their situation.

"Leave it to you to find such a place, Thomas," Anne chuckled, leaning back into his embrace, her back flush against his chest. "I can see how you would draw inspiration for your poems from such a place."

Anne was very, very quiet as he continued. In her mind she replayed that moment when she said that to him, when she had tried to push him away and out of her life for what she had thought was forever. Yet here they stood.

She turned slowly, glancing up to him as she moved to face him. Her eyes glanced up to catch his gaze.

"There's no competition, Thomas," that seemed very plain to her. "He can try all he likes, but as you said: My heart belongs to you."

She paused, drinking in the warmth of the moment, savoring it for as long as she could.

"I...know it is not for me to ask. But Thomas...please, do not let me go. I know not how we might even attempt to make something work but...to do so would be of substantial risk...I could not ask that of you. But, if nothing else, please don't let go..."

"I said that, didn't I? And you almost denied it yesterday," he replied with a soft expression on his face as Anne turned to look at him. She did belong to him. Not in any ownership kind of way but because she wanted to.

Wyatt brushed his finger along her chin and tipped his head down, giving a gentle kiss on her forehead first, then on lips.

"I wasn't thinking of competition so much in your eyes but in the eyes of the world, but thank you for saying that." He gave her another little kiss. "More than that, I was thinking how it is near impossible to find any sort of solution that's in favour of us. If it was anyone else, we could at least pretend we'll have a chance."

He took hold of her shoulders and kept her there. "I don't want to let you go but how can I hold you if the King wants you? Imagine if he knew how well I know you..." He shook his head.

"I don't recall denying it outright. All I said was that you belong to me as I do to you. Do you protest that assessment?" Anne smiled.

His touch was soft and sweet. How sorely she had missed it. Henry would seize her, in fact on one occasion he had taken her by the throat in jealousy. But that just gave proof to Thomas' argument. If Henry did know how well they knew each other, Thomas would likely be a head shorter.

Anne returned each kiss, even bringing her fingers up to gently cup his cheek

"What matters to you more, Thomas: The opinion of the world or my opinion?" Anne could care less what people thought of her if she was happy. What Thomas thought of her mattered much more to Anne than what the world thought of her.

There was sadness in her eyes as he spoke. She could not bear to part with him, the mere thought alone terrified her.

"Then...is there no hope for us, Thomas?"

"Have some mercy on a poor and tired man. I wouldn't dare to protest knowing you are determined to prove me wrong if I do," he teased her. Last night was somewhat muddled in his brain but he could have sworn that Anne had denied the statement. Maybe.

Wyatt closed his eyes to soak up her nearness. He needed a moment to find the right words to her question. He was worried they'd get into another argument over what he was about to say.

"They both matter, in different ways. Your opinion makes my heart sing, the opinion of others makes it fearful. I'm afraid fear can be a more powerful motivator than love. We shouldn't make hasty decisions." He wasn't particularly proud to admit being that cowardly so in order to soften it up, he leaned in for yet another kiss.

"In a day or two we'll be back in London. Will you be brave enough to see me there? If you are, there is hope." He wanted to believe that, against all odds.

"My dear Thomas, any woman would want to prove any man wrong if she knew herself to be right. But really, your gender would be far better off and could save us all substantial grief if you would just admit that we are right to begin with," Anne teased him right back. This was witty reparte that she was hard-pressed to find these days.

She and George did not have the same relationship that they once did. And Anne certainly could not have such dialogue with the king.

Anne was disappointed in his answer, but she did not wish to have another argument. She fought back her feelings of sadness, fought back the urge to show her true feelings. Anne would be the flawless actress that she was; she forced a small smile.

"You're not wrong, Thomas," Anne replied. She was grateful for the kiss.

Because he was right: They would be back in London soon enough. Anne needed to drink in all the contact she could get from Thomas before she was back to suffering through the touch of the king.

And it would indeed be suffering.

"With all that has been said, Thomas, is that really a question you need to ask of me? It seems more to me that you are the one with reservations," Anne spoke slowly and softly, keeping sure that there was no aggression in her tone. She did not wish to argue, but she could feel his hesitation. However, she could also understand the reasons why he might.

After all, why give up security, wealth and social standing for a woman? Such things only occurred in fairy tales, did they not?

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