Mark timed his arrival for April 1533, to see the coronation of Queen Anne Boleyn. He much enjoyed that great celebration for the woman we were later taught to believe was a witch and fornicator. He was sixteen then, the same age I was when I had come south; not tall but broadly built, with wide blue eyes in a smooth angelic face that reminded me of his mother's, although there was a watchful intelligence in his pale-blue eyes that was his distinctively.
I confess when he first arrived in my house I wanted him out of it again as soon as possible. I had no wish to act in loco parentis for this boy, who I had no doubt would soon be slamming doors and sending papers to the floor, and whose face and form stirred all the feelings of regret I associated with home. I had imaginings of my poor father wishing Mark were his son instead of me.
But somehow my wish to be rid of him eased. He was not the country boor I had expected; on the contrary he had a quiet, respectful demeanour and the rudiments of good manners. When he made some mistake of dress or table etiquette, as he did in the early days, he showed a self-mocking humour. He was reported as conscientious in the junior clerking posts I obtained for him, first at the Exchequer and then at Augmentations. I let him come and go as he pleased and if he visited the taverns and bawd houses with his fellow clerks he was never noisy or drunken at home.
Despite myself I grew fond of him, and took to using his agile mind as a sounding board for some of the more puzzling points of law or fact I dealt with. If he had a fault it was laziness, but a few sharp words could usually rouse him. I went from resenting that my father might have wished him for a son to wishing he might have been my own. I was not sure now that I would ever have a son, for poor Kate had died in the plague of 1534. I still wore a death's head mourning ring for her, presumptuously, for had she lived Kate would certainly have married another.
===OO=OOO=OO===
An hour later Joan called me down to supper. There was a fine capon on the table, with carrots and turnips. Mark was sitting quietly at his place, in his shirt again and a jerkin of fine brown wool. I noticed the jerkin was adorned with more of the agate buttons. I said grace and cut a limb from the chicken.
'Well,' I began, 'it seems Lord Cromwell may have you back at Augmentations. First he wants you to aid me with a task he has set me, and then we shall see.'
Six months before Mark had had a dalliance with a lady-in-waiting to Queen Jane. The girl was only sixteen, too young and silly to be at court but pushed there by ambitious relatives. In the end she brought them disgrace, for she took to wandering all over the precincts of Whitehall and Westminster until she found herself in Westminster Hall, among the clerks and lawyers. There the little wanton met Mark, and ended by rutting with him in an empty office. Afterwards she repented and blurted everything out to the other ladies, from where in due course the story reached the chamberlain. The girl was packed off home and Mark found himself turned out of a hot sheet into hot water, interrogated by high officials of the royal household; he had been astonished and frightened. Though angry with him, I sympathized with his fear as well; he was very young after all. I had petitioned Lord Cromwell to intervene, knowing he had an indulgent approach towards that type of misdemeanour at least.
'Thank you, sir,' he said. 'I am truly sorry for what happened.'
'You are lucky. People of our station don't often get a second chance. Not after something like that.'
'I know. But — she was bold, sir.' He smiled weakly. 'I am but flesh.'
'She was a mere silly girl. You could have got her with child.'