‘I can make sure that they enjoy their visit to my house, but I cannot clear Lambeth of beggars and paupers,’ J replied sharply. ‘Are they coming by boat?’

‘Yes, their carriage will meet them at Lambeth.’

‘Then they should drive swiftly through Lambeth,’ J remarked unhelpfully. ‘Or they may see some of their subjects who are not happy and smiling.’

The usher looked at him sharply. ‘If anyone fails to uncover his head and shout “God save the king”, he will be sorry for it,’ he warned. ‘There are men in prison for treason for less. There are men with cropped ears and slit tongues who did nothing more than refuse to take their hats off when the royal carriage went by.’

J nodded. ‘They will meet with nothing but courtesy and respect in my house,’ he said. ‘But I am not responsible for the crowd on the quayside by the horse-ferry.’

‘I am responsible for them,’ the gentleman usher replied. ‘And I think you will find that every one of them shouts for the king.’

He swung back his coat and J saw the bag of pennies at his belt.

‘Good,’ J said. ‘Then I am sure Their Majesties will have a merry visit.’

He had feared that Jane would be rebellious, but the challenge to her housekeeping was such that, for the moment, she put aside her principles. She sent a message to her mother in the city and Mrs Hurte arrived at dawn on the day of the royal visit with her own store of damask tablecloths, and her own box of ginger biscuits and sugared plums. Josiah Hurte had disapproved; but the women were on their mettle and were determined that there should be no critical comments at the court about the chief gardener’s house.

The rarities room and the parlour had been swept and polished ever since the gentleman usher had left the house. Jane laid the table in the parlour and set the fire against the cold of the January day, while J and his father prowled around the rarities room for the hundredth time, ensuring that every case stood open and that every rarity – even the smallest carved hazelnut shell – was laid out to its best advantage.

When everything was polished and prepared, there was nothing to do but wait.

Frances went to sit on the front garden wall at half past ten. At eleven, John sent the garden lad down the road to keep watch and give them warning when he saw the royal carriage roof rocking down the bumpy road towards them. At midday Frances came in, her fingertips blue with cold, saying that there was no sign of them, and that the king was a liar and a fool.

Jane shushed her and rushed her to the kitchen to get warm before the fire.