She saw his roguish smile but she did not respond to it. ‘John?’ she repeated gravely.

‘There is a ship which I will take passage on, but it does not go for a year or two,’ he assured her. ‘An expedition to the Mediterranean against the pirates, and I may have a place on a supply pinnace!’

She did not return his smile.

‘Think of what I might find!’ John said persuasively. ‘Think of what they grow in those hot places and what I might bring back. I should make my fortune for sure!’

Elizabeth folded her underlip.

‘It will not be for a year or so,’ he said placatingly. ‘And it is all uncertain as yet.’

‘You will always travel whenever you can,’ Elizabeth replied bitterly. ‘A man your age should be staying home. I thought we would settle here, away from the courts of great lords, I thought you would be happy here.’

‘I am happy here, and it is not ever that I want to leave you …’ John protested as she got up from his lap and went to one side, gently stroking the leaf of the chestnut. ‘But I have to obey, Elizabeth – if my lord says I am to go, I have to go. And I must seek plants if I have the chance of them. It is to the glory of God to show men the wealth He has given us, Elizabeth. And a trip to the Mediterranean could bring back great things. Flowers and trees, but also herbs. Maybe a cure for the plague? That would be godly work!’

She did not smile at his overt appeal to her piety. ‘It would be godly work to stay home and serve your lord at home,’ she said firmly. ‘And you are getting old, John. You should not be sailing out at your age. You are not a seaman, you are a gardener. You should be at home in your garden.’

Gently he drew her back to him. ‘Don’t be angry with me,’ he said softly. ‘I have only just got home. Smile for me, Lizzie, and see: I have brought you a present.’

From deep in the pocket of his coat he brought a small pine cone. ‘A new tree,’ he said. ‘A beautiful fir tree. Will you nurse it up for me, Elizabeth? And keep it as well as you have kept our chestnut? I love you as much now as I did when I gave you the chestnut.’

Elizabeth took it but her face remained grave. ‘John, you are nearing fifty years old,’ she said. ‘It is time for you to stay home.’

He kissed the warm nape of her neck, slightly salt beneath his lips. Elizabeth sighed a little at the pleasure of his touch, and sat still. In the apple tree above their heads a woodpigeon cooed seductively.