The large chamber on the first floor was the beating heart of the house; the hall where nearly twenty years ago Margaret and William Vintner had held their wedding feast and Mette and I had watched Edmund present his cloth of gold wedding gift and almost disclose the truth of Meg’s birth. Under the line of casement windows overlooking the street two girls sat sewing and looked up as we entered. One was about the same age as Geoffrey and the other was younger, probably of Elin’s years, eleven or twelve.

‘Mildred, Alys, this is Lord Jasper, a friend of the family, who we must make welcome. Leave your work and come and greet him.’ Meg waved the girls forward and watched proudly as they made their curtsies. Both wore protective aprons over unbleached linen kirtles and white caps over their hair. ‘Jasper this is William’s niece Mildred and the little one is Alys, our youngest.’

The older girl kept her gaze modestly downcast but the younger one subjected me to a candid inspection with eyes of bright sapphire blue. I returned their curtsies with a solemn bow. ‘God’s greeting to you both,’ I said.

Under Meg’s supervision the fire was lit, wine and wafers brought, chairs and benches arranged; she made the promise of a meal later and her firstborn offered me a seat near the fire.

The girl appeared who had been churning the butter. ‘This is Catherine, Jasper, whom you met as a small child. I do not think you will remember each other.’ This girl was the prettiest of them all, a sweet-faced, pink-cheeked angel, straight from the pages of an illuminated Book of Hours.

I was plied with the refreshments, which I consumed with alacrity. My sister sat beside me and sipped at the good red Bordeaux wine.

I raised my cup appreciatively. ‘The other branch of the Vintner family are still importing wine from Gascony then, despite England losing it to France?’

‘Indeed they are – busier than ever. Mildy has been living with us for a year now,’ she revealed, as her niece refilled my cup. ‘Her father is away a great deal. Do you remember her mother and namesake, William’s half sister? Unhappily she died quite suddenly last year of a throat quinsy. Mildy was her youngest child, the only one left at home. We are going to find her a good husband, is that not so, sweetheart?’

Mildy blushed and nodded. She offered me more wafers.