J nodded and trudged off to the kitchen garden. John spread a napkin on the grass and opened his little knapsack. Elizabeth had given him a new-baked loaf, a slice of cheese, and a flask of small ale. The crust was grey, the flour was poor this year, and the cheese was watery. Not even good money could buy good provisions. The country was feeling the pinch of bad finances and bad harvests. John made a small grimace and bit into his bread.

‘John Tradescant?’ John looked up but did not rise to his feet though the man standing above him was splendidly dressed in the livery of the Duke of Buckingham.

‘Who wants him?’

‘The Duke of Buckingham himself.’

John put his loaf of grey bread to one side and stood up, brushing off crumbs.

‘I am John Tradescant,’ he said. ‘What does His Grace want?’

‘You’re to go and see him,’ the man said abruptly. ‘You’re summoned. He’s at New Hall at Chelmsford. You’re to go at once.’

‘My master is Lord Wootton …’ John started.

The man laughed abruptly. ‘Your master can be Lord Jesus Christ for all that my master cares,’ he said softly.

John recoiled. ‘No need for blasphemy.’

‘Every need,’ the man insisted. ‘For you do not seem to understand who commands you. Above my master there is only the king. If my master wants something he has only to ask for it. And if he asks for it, he gets it. D’you understand?’

John thought of the painted youth at Theobalds who sat in King James’s lap, and the jewels around the young man’s neck and the purse at his waist.

‘I understand well enough,’ he said dryly. ‘Though I’ve been away from court for some years.’

‘Then know this,’ the man said. ‘There is only one person in the world for King James, and that is my master – the beautiful duke.’ He stepped forward and lowered his voice. ‘The duke’s friends can do anything they wish – poison, treachery, divorce! All this they have done and escaped scot-free! Had you not heard?’

John carefully shook his head. ‘Not a thing.’

‘Lord Rochester took the wife of another man, no less than the Earl of Essex’s wife. They declared him impotent! How would you like that?’

‘Not at all.’

‘Then Rochester and his new wife poisoned Sir Thomas Overbury who would have betrayed them. She is a declared witch and poisoner. How d’you like that?’

‘No better.’

‘Found guilty, imprisoned in the tower, and then what d’you think?’

John shook his head, maintaining his ignorance.

‘Forgiven overnight!’ the manservant said with satisfaction. ‘If you have the king’s ear you can do no wrong.’

‘The king knows best,’ John said staunchly, thinking of his lost lord and his advice to be blind and deaf when other men are talking treason.