Campion nodded, embarrassed. “Yes, Lady Margaret.”

“And George tells me that there’s some nonsense about ten thousand pounds a year. Is it nonsense?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well tell me.”

Campion told the story of the seal, of her meeting with Sir Grenville Cony, of the letter she had found in the secret compartment of her father’s chest. At first she was hesitant, but soon she forgot her nervousness and discovered in Lady Margaret a surprisingly sympathetic listener. The older woman snorted when Sir Grenville’s name was mentioned. “The frog-king? Little Grenville! I know him. His father was a boot-maker in Shoreditch.”

She demanded to see the seal and was impatient as Campion took it from about her neck. “Let me have it! Ah! Venetian.”

“Venetian?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? Look at the workmanship. No London clodpole could have made this. It unscrews, you say?” She was fascinated by the small crucifix. “A recusant’s cross!”

“A what, Lady Margaret?”

“A secret crucifix, child. The Catholics wore them once their religion was decreed unlawful, the crucifix disguised as jewellery. How very fascinating. Did Sir Grenville’s have the same?”

“No.” Campion described the silver naked lady and Lady Margaret burst into loud laughter.

“A naked woman!”

“Yes, Lady Margaret.”

Lady Margaret still smiled. “How singularly inappropriate. Sir Grenville wouldn’t know what to do with a naked lady if he rolled on one in his bed. No child, Sir Grenville’s tastes go the other way. He likes his naked flesh to be male.” She looked up at Campion and frowned. “You haven’t the first idea of what I’m speaking about, have you?”

“No.”

“Such innocence. I thought it disappeared with the Fall. You know about Sodom and Gomorrah, child?”

“Yes.”

“Well Sir Grenville would have been happy as the frog-king of Sodom, dear. I’ll explain it all to you when you’re ready.” She rejoined the two halves of the seal and gave it to Campion. “There. Keep it safe. George didn’t believe you, but then he can be very foolish at times. I’ve no doubt his principles will fall along with the tiles of the old roof.”

Campion, by now, was scenting success. It was not just the ten thousand pounds, each of them an excellent reason for her birth and breeding to be overlooked; she was enjoying Lady Margaret’s company and felt the enjoyment to be reciprocated. She had noticed when Lady Margaret suddenly addressed her as “dear,” though Lady Margaret had seemed oblivious.

The older woman frowned at her. “You have no means of knowing if this money is to be yours?”

“No.”

“Well that’s truthful of you. You say you’re a virgin?”

“Yes.”

“Promise me?”

Campion smiled. “Yes.”

“It’s important, child. Good Lord, don’t you realize how important?”

Campion shrugged. “For marriage?”

“For marriage!” Lady Margaret scoffed. “George deflowered me in a hayrick weeks before the marriage. He was noisy and clumsy, though I’m glad to say he’s improved over the years. No, you foolish child, not for marriage, but for the law courts.”