The gate into Paris Gardens was busy but all made way for us, for there was no mistaking a party of courtiers, masked or not. To the western end of the vast enclosed field, somewhat obscured by greasy smoke from cookshops, I could make out baiting pits, skittle alleys and taverns. We walked away from their stench and noise along a bricked path. Almost immediately we left the throng and the air cleared. Bushes of rosemary and laurel lined the way and in the distance I could see a fortified manor of great age whose gatehouse was topped with spikes, as at London Bridge, although here there were no heads impaled upon them.

At the gatehouse, Theo handed a token to the keeper, who examined it carefully before tossing it in a bowl and waving us through a wicket door set into the huge, studded gate. The manor was built to withstand a siege. We crossed a drawbridge over the moat, guarded at each end by halberdiers in black and orange, as if the Royal Mint lay within and not a bawdy house.

We followed Theo, Thomas and Harry through a formal garden, neatly kept even in those days of winter. As we neared the door, it was opened by a man so large that he blocked out the candlelight within. He stood aside to let us pass and, once inside, I saw that his complexion, hair and eyes were all white and pink. He wore a black waistcoat above ballooning orange hose that reached his ankles, all his garments of silk. The enormous muscles of his bare arms twitched, as if kicking their way out of his skin. Servants, also in black and orange livery, removed our outer clothes. They took the brothers’ swords and daggers.

Theo then stretched one arm theatrically toward the giant. “Ladies, this is Hartmann the Dutch. Do not be fooled. His name means that he is full of strength, not of heart. He is Queane Donna’s personal guard and my friend. Now he is yours too.” The great white giant nodded and twitched again the muscles of his arms. Frankie squeezed my hand, not from awe, I suspected, but a desire to laugh.

When the servants had gone, Hartmann pulled aside a thick curtain to his left, allowing noise and light to pour out. He indicated that we should enter. Frankie’s brothers, clapping each other on the back as if they had achieved something, stepped into the room. I checked that our masks were still in place and followed.

Immediately we were in a different world. Here as elsewhere were shadows and human misery no doubt, but that evening they were banished by a display of glistering wealth and all that opens to it.