‘My son designed it,’ John told him. ‘But we both worked on the planting scheme. It is harder with Their Majesties than with a lord who is at home most of the time. When they come on a visit they expect it to be perfect, but you never know when the visit will be. We have to grow everything in pots or nursery beds, and only put the plants in when we know they are coming. We can’t wait to let the plants grow fine and strong in the beds and succeed each other. Their Majesties need it perfect at each visit.’

‘You are a painter yourself,’ the man remarked. ‘What patterns and colour! This is even better than Hatfield.’

‘I have no sense of smell,’ John explained. ‘My son prizes flowers for their scent, and loves working with herbs for their perfume. But, since I can smell nothing, I love bright colours and shapes.’

The two men turned from the window and John led the way down to the great hall where the king and the household would dine, and then out into the court before the hall.

‘Do you sleep in the hall?’ John asked.

‘My niece is with me, we have rooms in the old wing,’ the man replied.

‘Does she always accompany you?’ John asked, surprised. The aristocratic members of the court might confine themselves to platonic love or to delicate trysts; but the rest of the royal household could be a rough place for a young woman when the fanciful romantic behaviour of the royal parade had passed by.

‘Her father died of the plague and her mother cannot support her,’ the man said. ‘And, to tell you the truth, she has a fine eye and can work as well as any draughtsman. I often let her draw for me and block the designs out on paper, and then I transfer them to the walls.’

‘I will see you both at dinner then,’ John said. The spring sunshine was warm on his face and he could hear the birds singing. ‘I must get out and see how they are digging in the kitchen garden.’

De Critz raised his hand and went back into the palace to start his drawings for the queen.

John joined de Critz at the dinner table at midday in the great hall. At the top table were the king and queen and the favoured courtiers of the day, with hundreds of rich and elaborate dishes laid before them. The queen held out her white hands for her lady-in-waiting to pull off, one at a time, each of the priceless rings, and pour a stream of warm clean water over her fingertips and then dab them with a napkin of the finest damask.