Festina Lente

Chapter Seventy-Seven: Viscount Rochford

8th of April 1535 - Hever Castle

Giggling as she ran through the gardens, Contessina looked behind her trying to see if she was being followed; her dark hair flowing behind her as she ducked through the hedges trying to stay out of sight. 

Her heart pounded in her chest and she headed further into the gardens away from the castle, she hugged the hedge line and paused in her running. 

Her hand covered her mouth as she tried to keep quiet as a giggle escaped her and Contessina tried to listen for footsteps that had been following her. 

Crouching down in the bushes, Contessina watched as a pair of legs approached the opening before her; her eyes widening as she watched the legs pause for a moment in front of her. 

For a moment, Contessina held her breath waiting for the person to move on before she let out a breath; her ears straining to hear where the seeker had gone before she slowly moved from her hiding spot. 

Moving slowly, Contessina quickly glanced in the direction that the person had disappeared in before she thought it was safe enough to make a run for it only to crash into someone's legs. 

With a gasp, she stumbled backwards when a hard clamped down on her shoulder before she was hoisted up in the air. 

"Grandpapa," Contessina squealed with a large smile on her face as she looked at him, a jovial laugh escaping him as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

The sunshine had provided the perfect break and distraction that Thomas Boleyn had been hoping for, it was far too nice for them to be stuck inside especially on a day like today. 

It had been awkward at first having Clarice and the girls stay with them but as the weeks had passed and Clarice had entered her confinement, Thomas had found himself spending time with Contessina and Filiberta as he had done with Mary and Anne. 

He had even dug out some of the old books that his own daughters had read when they were children for the girls, although Filiberta was still a little young to enjoy them. 

A part of him could not help but think of when his daughters had been little girls, the carefree days that they had enjoyed here or at Blickling Hall seemed like such a long time ago.

Back in a time when things had been so simple, he had been a courtier making a name for himself and they had been so happy and carefree back then. 

Their fates had changed when he had escorted the then Princess Margaret to Scotland for her wedding to King James IV, it had been the start of the path that they had taken to this point. 

"Your Grace," a maid called rushing though the hedge rows, she clutched at her skirts knowing that it was important that she tracked him down as she had been instructed to. 

Her mistress had wished for her husband to be informed right away, there was little time to waste and he was needed; letters already being drafted so that the news could be shared with the rest of the family. 

"What is it?" Thomas asked, he held Contessina close fearing the worst but hoping for the best especially given what he recalled from his own days waiting for the news of his own children's births. 

It appeared that even after the birth of five of his own children, that the waiting got no better; the birth of his ninth grandchild was certainly no easier than the others. 

Clarice's waters had broken early that morning and his wife had been by her side since then leading Thomas to decide to spend the morning with his granddaughters rather than pacing the halls.