‘I am surprised you can recall chivalry’s strictures, my lord,’ remarked the queen acidly. ‘And should I conclude that you consider loyalty a male prerogative, pertaining only to warfare?’

‘Far from it, Madame, let ladies embrace it too, as I am sure you do. But when faithful service is ignored and society’s rubrics violated, as they have been under Edward of York, then we are bound to consider ourselves released from fidelity’s bond, are we not? After much searching of my soul I have come to this conclusion and so has his grace of Clarence.’

Marguerite made a derisive noise and shot a dismissive glance at the young duke. ‘Having been forgiven once for rebelling against the crown, your son-in-law has now deserted his brother for a second time, a sad example of the deplorable perfidy of our times.’ Heated blood rushed to Clarence’s cheeks but before he could protest she ploughed relentlessly on. ‘I do not wish to be twice betrayed as Edward has been and have yet to be convinced of the wisdom of forgiving you even once, my lord of Warwick. Because of your treachery King Henry has suffered extended periods of exile and imprisonment. For nigh on ten years the rightful King of England has been denied his throne, his realm has descended into violence and anarchy and Prince Édouard and I have been deprived of a husband and father’s loving company. Blame for much of that can be laid directly at your feet, for had you not supported Richard of York’s arrogant lust for power and his unworthy son’s vainglorious ambition, England would have been spared a decade of ungodly misrule. It goes without saying that my son and I wish to restore King Henry to his rightful place as England’s sovereign lord, but the burning question before us is whether to put our trust in a proven traitor in order to do so?’

By this time the Duke of Clarence had turned away and was pacing the floor behind the countess and her daughter, apparently fighting the urge to intervene in this war of words but, by fair means or foul, Warwick must have extracted a vow of silence from his young ally as his lips remained angrily compressed. With his clasped hands now extended in entreaty and his gaze deferentially fixed on the floor, when Marguerite asked her question and fell silent, the earl put his case in a speech that indicated careful rehearsal.