The sharp winter cold of the open cloister seemed to have dispelled Henry’s slight slur and so when the fresh supply of hippocras arrived I quickly poured another measure, which he showed no hesitation in accepting.

‘I find warm spiced wine an excellent soother of the stomach after the over-indulgence of Christmas fare,’ he confessed a little sheepishly, taking a chair beside the glowing fire. ‘Please tell me if I begin to appear inebriated, Jasper. I so dislike drunkenness in others.’

‘There is never any question of you appearing anything but sober, my liege,’ I assured him.

Henry leaned closer, his brow creasing in concern. ‘It is not necessary for you to address me so formally when we are alone, Jasper. I like to think that in circumstances such as this we can converse freely together as brothers. And please sit.’ He waved at the chair on the opposite side of the hearth.

I sat. It was now or never. I wet my lips with the hippocras and gave a nervous preliminary cough. ‘Thank you, Henry; if I may call you Henry, sire?’ How foolish that sounded but he gave me an encouraging wave and so I ploughed on. ‘Forgive me for asking but I wonder whether your promotion of Edmund and me and your interest in Margaret Beaufort may have come as a result of concern at your own isolation? The throne must be a lonely place when you do not have close family, whose loyalty you can rely on.’

At this point Henry’s attitude became avuncular rather than brotherly. ‘For a young man you are very perceptive, Jasper. Yes, I have certainly felt the lack of relatives of the kind that many of my nobles seem to rely on in large numbers. That is why I have come to value you and Edmund so highly.’

I took the plunge. ‘Of course there would be no such lack if you and the queen were to have a family of your own …’

My words hung between us like feathers caught in an up draught, hovering weightless, before their slow, hesitant descent into meaning. Henry resorted to another large gulp from his cup. Then, after due consideration and yet more alcoholic encouragement, his response came like a bolt from the blue. ‘Was this what you were talking about with Marguerite after your dance together?’

In future it would be hard for critics of his reign to persuade me that Henry was always an arrow short of a full quiver. ‘No. Well yes, indirectly,’ I stuttered. ‘She told me how happy she was that you were favouring your brothers and mentioned how much she regretted you having no children of your own as yet. She seems to think that the people blame her for this.’