Bound to Obey and Serve: A novel of Jane Seymour

Summer 1522 - Chapter 2 [the departure]

With the imminent departure of the newlyweds, the house was in turmoil the following morning. Elizabeth’s censure was written clear on her face and in her manner. Cold and distant, she barely responded to Jane’s half-hearted attempts at conversation.

Tangled up in thoughts of William, Jane scarcely noticed. She replayed every moment of their interaction in her mind, trying to recreate what she felt in his presence and waiting impatiently to hear from him. Their evening together had been so perfect, Jane made no doubt that he would send to her immediately on waking.

Her stomach still clenched whenever she thought of him; so much so that she had been unable to eat breakfast that morning. When Tom asked why, she claimed not to be hungry, blaming the enormous wedding feast.

The majority of her morning was spent sitting in a window embrasure of the sun-flooded long gallery, gazing up the road for any hint of a messenger. Nobody paid her any attention for the whole of the time she was there, which suited her just fine. As the time dragged by, she became more and more melancholy, lost in her own thoughts, beginning to worry that she had imagined his eagerness.

Though she was usually so keen for some change and excitement, the noise and general disruption grated on her nerves today. She was torn: keen to be easily discoverable in case a message from William should come, but not of a mood to take part in the leaving preparations.

‘Jane!’ she heard her mother calling distantly, probably to give her some task or errand.

She looked around in alarm – her mother was nowhere to be seen, but it surely wouldn’t be long until she was found. Darting across the gallery, Jane slipped behind a tapestry and through a servants’ door. Making her way down the back stairs, she emerged into the kitchens and discreetly exited into the gardens.

It was uncomfortably hot outside, but Jane exhaled in relief as she set off slowly across the grass, seeing nothing of the summer day, her eyes full of William’s smile.

I heave yet another a great sigh and sit down heavily in the shade of a tall oak tree; I gaze around for a few moments before lounging back and squinting at the sky. It’s dazzling blue, not a cloud in sight, but I can hardly appreciate it – I am so saturated with thoughts of William.

He said he wanted to see me again, so why have I heard nothing from him? Was it a promise made in his cups? Perhaps he woke this morning with a woollen tongue and a head like an anvil, recalling our conversation and cringing. Worse still, perhaps he doesn’t remember at all. He didn’t seem at all drunk, but some men don’t show it...

My fretting is interrupted as a silhouette looms above me, features dark against the brilliance of the sky. It nudges me with its foot, and Tom’s voice says ‘how now, Jane?’

He flops down on his back beside me. I ignore his question, instead responding ‘you’ve managed to slip away from Mother then?’

Tom grimaces, ‘she’s kept me busy all morning, supervising the servants getting things organised for Lizzy’s send-off. Really, I think she wanted you for these tasks.’

‘It’s too chaotic – I’d rather keep my own company out here.’

He gives me a sidelong glance, saying casually, ‘well buck up soon. If you don’t learn to hide your emotions, someone will guess that you’re in love and all hell will break loose. You’d make a terrible courtier.’

I turn onto my hip and lean up on one elbow to stare at him, ‘am I that obvious?!’

‘Yes,’ he doesn’t hesitate.