Understanding dawns on him and he finds courage to reply. ‘Most happily, my lady. Yes. The ink is dry on a perpetual truce between Burgundy and England.’ His smile invites her congratulation, but is disappointed.

‘Good. Now get you gone.’ Before the door has closed behind him she has turned her frowning face to Talbot.

His sullen glare sets her foot tapping.

‘You should sit down, lady.’ He gestures vaguely at her belly. ‘Surely …’ He finds it hard to look at her and thinks she should not be here.

She agrees. Though Edward is barely a year old, she expects to be brought to bed with a new babe any day. She should have gone to her lying-in already; had been of a mind to do so a fortnight since, when her plans had been upset by the clattering arrival of King Henry’s herald. He’d swaggered and said his news was for York’s ears only. She had pinned him with a stare and asked him who he thought she was.

‘My lady, you are York’s wife. Will you tell me where the duke is so I might ride there and give him the King’s message?’

‘You can give your message to me and I will tell you if it’s worth the sweat of your horse to carry it.’

She had kept him on his feet until he understood that his duty was to give the King’s letter into her hands. It greeted Richard as a dear and well-beloved cousin, but carried barbs that would pierce his heart. Though anger burned her eyes and scorched her throat, she swallowed it, for the herald watched her intently and would, she knew, report back.

Her eyes never left him while she rolled the letter in brisk hands, placed it among others on her table. ‘The duke my husband is deep in negotiations with Burgundy’s duchess that we pray will further the King’s cause in France. I’m sure you don’t wish to distract that enterprise. Your message can wait.’

Give him credit, he’d tried to stand his ground. ‘Will you tell me where he is, lady?’

‘I will not.’

And she has made it hard for him to find out, too. Her household either don’t know or are forbidden to say. And she has forgone her seclusion to keep him under her eye. She’s watched him skulking about corridors, hoping to catch a whisper and wondering, no doubt, how it is that a woman has come to stand between himself and his will.

Certainly Richard’s return will not escape his notice. Time to act.

‘My Lord Talbot, you should go and inform the King’s herald of the duke’s return. Tell him we will summon him right soon.’

His red face reddens further. ‘Am I your page, lady?’