John hid his surprise. He had thought that she had been watching him and desiring him, as he, despite his caution, had been watching and wanting her. But this careful planning was not the voice of a besotted eighteen-year-old. ‘Who says this?’ he asked, carefully keeping his voice neutral. ‘Your uncle?’

She nodded. ‘He says you are set fair to be a great man, although you are only a gardener. He says that gardens are the fashion and that Mr Gerard and you are the very men. He says you could go as far as London. Perhaps even into the king’s service!’ She broke off, excited by the prospect.

John had disappointment like a sour taste in his mouth. ‘I might.’ He could not resist testing her liking for him. ‘Or I might prefer to stay in the country and try my hand at breeding flowers and trees. Would you come with me, to a little cottage, if I become a gardener in a small way, and husband a little plot?’

Involuntarily she stepped back. ‘Oh, no! I couldn’t bear anything mean! But surely, Mr Tradescant, that is not your wish?’

John shook his head. ‘I cannot say.’ He felt himself fumbling for a dignified retreat, conscious of the desire in his face, the heat in his blood, and the contradictory, sobering awareness that she had seen him as an opportunity for her ambition, and never looked at him with desire at all. ‘I could not promise to take you to London. I could not promise to take you anywhere. I could not promise wealth or success.’

She pouted her lower lip, like a child who has been disappointed. Tradescant put both his hands in the deep pockets of his coat so that he would not be able to put them around her yielding waist, and pull her to him for consolation and kisses.

‘Then you may fetch your own dinner!’ she cried shrilly and turned abruptly away from him. ‘And I’ll find a handsome young man to dine with. A Scots man with a place at court! There are many who would be glad to have me!’

‘I don’t doubt it,’ John said. ‘And I would too, but …’ She did not wait to hear his excuses, she flounced around and was gone.

A serving man pushed past him with a huge platter of fine white bread, another ran behind with flagons of wine clutched four in each hand. John turned from the noise of the kitchen area and went towards the great hall.