With a profound sense of release I took the high road to Pembroke, accompanied as always by Maredudd and a handful of men at arms. I held to my belief that moving fast and with few men was safer than being surrounded by a large retinue and in fine weather we made good time, crossing the River Severn at Gloucester less than three days later. However, we did not cease watching our backs until we had put the castle of Raglan well behind us. Since Edmund’s death I would never trust William Herbert of Raglan.

As we drew nearer to my own estates I felt for the first time a sense of going home. I had not set foot in Pembrokeshire until four years ago but now I realized it had acquired that status in my mind. ‘Home’, where a man could rely on the warmth of a hearth and a friendly welcome. I had sworn lifelong loyalty to my brother King Henry but that did not make his palaces places where I felt comfortable or even secure. The royal court simmered with schemes and conspiracies; jealousy and rivalry thrived and honour fought hard to survive. I could understand why Henry sought refuge whenever possible in churches and abbeys, peaceful havens of prayer and contemplation, where God was a constant presence, but I did not seek that kind of solace. I wanted human friendship and the comfort of knowing I could trust my companions. I glanced across at Maredudd and understood that in him I had found these things and perhaps even more in his sister Jane. As Harri’s nurse and a valued member of my household, she was part of what made Pembroke my home. But then, all at once, a sudden recall of her kiss in the mews sent a rush of blood to my cheeks.

My experience of females had mostly involved the more adventurous young ladies of the court, some of whom were rather obviously keen to draw a new earl into their net. But, unlike my brother Edmund, I stopped short at harmless flirting, to avoid any and all complications. I discovered after his death that he had not confined his sexual exploits to the Southwark stews. His accounts revealed that he had been obliged to pay substantial sums to daughters of minor gentry, who had been hastily married off to others, to disguise the results of his philandering. This was not information I would ever wish to reach Margaret’s ears, but it was no wonder that his debts had mounted beyond control.