In due course they did not exactly flock but about a dozen Welsh chiefs and chieftains attended the festival, along with their wives and sons, to feast and frolic at the earl’s expense and perhaps lured as well by the opportunity to air their grievances. Owen Tudor was first to arrive, accompanied by a small posse of armed companions and several packhorses with a selection of harps among the baggage. Lord Jasper had allocated his father to the guest accommodation in his new mansion and showed him proudly around it, including a visit to Harri’s nursery, where Owen presented one of the instruments – a suitably junior version – to his grandson.

‘He is Welsh enough to have music in his blood,’ said Owen, ruffling Harri’s hair. ‘This will give him a chance to discover it.’

‘It is very generous of you to think of Harri,’ said Lord Jasper, who then remarked, ‘I wondered why you had brought four harps, it seemed a little excessive.’

‘I am as competitive as the next bard,’ his father declared. ‘I do not want my sound to be drowned out by larger instruments. Also I have a duty to show the king how much I appreciate the annual pension he has awarded me – not before time,’ he added under his breath. ‘So at last I can afford a gift for my grandson.’

‘And a squire and two servants, I notice,’ commented his son.

But Owen had retrieved the little harp from Harri, in such a way that he plucked a little sweet tune from it as he took it away, to try and avoid any squall of protest. The trick worked and Owen was able to return his attention to Jasper, who was saying, ‘… there is accommodation in the house for you but I am afraid your retinue will have to sleep in the Old Hall, unless you want a pile of pallets in your chamber.’

Owen reacted with a grimace. ‘Perish that thought! Ah, I must tell you my news, I have taken a lovely lady to my home and hearth. She told me over and again we were destined to be together and so in the end I relented. Her name is Myfanwy and I cannot think what took me so long, she is the comeliest and most spirited little widow.’

A quick movement of his head, caught out of the corner of my eye, told me Lord Jasper had glanced in my direction before responding.

‘Well, I wish you joy, Father, and I will make a point of coming to Denbigh to meet your Myfanwy. Will you be taking her before the priest?’