The king pulled himself up against the carved back of his chair, the moisture drying on his cheeks. ‘You should have a son of your own, Jasper. Why have you not married? Is it my fault? I have not found a suitable bride for you.’

‘That is your prerogative, sire,’ I said with a smile I did not feel.

‘Yes, yes. I will pray on it. You should not be left unmarried like our mother was. It can only lead to trouble.’ He waved at a nearby stool and I pulled it up. ‘Do you know I saw our mother the other day – a picture of her, on the wall. I found it when I climbed a turret to get a view of the weather to the south. I am so worried that the queen and prince will be hit by storms in the Channel.’

I had to close my eyes on the burst of stars that exploded in my mind. Every time I had visited Windsor Castle during my life at court I had tried to find the portrait of Queen Catherine, which I had been told was somewhere in the Great Round Tower, but to no avail. Now Henry was telling me I had been looking in the wrong place. It was somewhere in the royal apartments after all. I tried not to show my excitement because I did not want to add to Henry’s agitation but this time I had to know where the portrait was.

‘I would like to see that picture, Henry. Which turret did you climb?’ I asked him gently.

He waved the kerchief in a vague gesture. ‘Oh, I cannot remember. The weather at the time was fair. That was all I needed to know.’

I resolved to change the subject. I would pursue the portrait later with Harri. Another pair of eyes would be useful. ‘I have brought my nephew with me today, sire. Would you like him to visit you?’

Henry frowned at me. ‘Your nephew, Jasper? Did I know you had a nephew? Who’s son is he?’

‘My brother Edmund’s son. He married Lady Margaret Beaufort, do you remember?’

His expression darkened further. ‘No, I do not remember. Why have I not met him? You know I like to meet all members of my family.’