John had set some sailors to spinning for mackerel and that night he was able to serve Buckingham with a plate of fish. When he set the tray down, Buckingham said idly, ‘Don’t go.’

John waited by the door as Buckingham ate in silence. The ship seemed very quiet. Buckingham finished his dinner and then stood up from his table.

‘Fetch me some hot water,’ he commanded.

Tradescant took the tray back to the galley and came back with a pitcher of heated seawater. ‘I am sorry, it’s salt,’ he said.

‘No matter,’ Buckingham replied. He stripped off his linen shirt, and his breeches. Tradescant held a towel for him and watched while Buckingham washed himself, and ran wet fingers through his dark hair. He stood to let John pat a sheet around him and then he lay, still naked, on the rich scarlet counterpane of his bed. John could not look away, the duke was as beautiful as a statue in the gardens at New Hall.

‘Do you want to sleep here tonight again?’ his lordship asked.

‘If you wish, my lord,’ John said, keeping the hope from his face.

‘I asked what you wished,’ Buckingham said.

John hesitated. ‘You are my master. It must be for you to say.’

‘I say that I want to know your thoughts. Do you wish to sleep here with me, as we did last night? Or go back to your own bed? You’re free to do either, John. I don’t coerce you.’

John raised his eyes to the duke’s dark smile. He felt as if his face was burning. ‘I want you,’ he said. ‘I want to be with you.’

The duke sighed, almost as if he were relieved of a fear. ‘As my lover?’

John nodded, feeling the depth of sin and desire as if they were one.

‘Take the jug and ewer away and come back,’ the duke commanded. ‘I want to feel a man’s love tonight.’