She countered with a graceful curtsy, giving me a mischievous sideways glance. ‘At the risk of being called a loose woman, I suddenly find my interest swerving from one brother to the other! Let me return the flattery, my lord, by saying that you seem a great deal more approachable now than you did when standing supporter for your brother of Richmond in the chapel, at which time you gave a very good impression of an approaching thunderstorm.’

For a moment I was taken aback, concerned that I should have given myself away to this sharp-eyed observer, but Geoffrey came to my rescue with a cheerful man-to-man comment. ‘He looked as any man is bound to do when witnessing his brother’s descent into matrimony. I hope my brother will show similar fellow-feeling when we stand before the priest, my sweeting.’ He planted a gentle kiss on his betrothed’s hand. ‘But I think it is time we claimed some of the limelight for ourselves by joining the bridal couple in the dance. That is a sister’s obligation is it not? I hope you will excuse us, Lord Jasper, temporarily at least.’ I watched them make their way onto the floor and reflected how much more appropriate this pairing of equals seemed than the one my brother had just made.

A break in the dancing brought my first opportunity to converse with the bride, while Edmund was occupied with her mother. In the warm crush of bodies in Bletsoe’s crowded great hall Margaret had discarded her fur-lined mantle to reveal a gown of gold satin figured with a pattern of marguerites and trimmed with seed pearls, a clever double play on her name. Her hair swung down her back, long and free in the tradition of maiden brides and a pearl collar clasped her smooth neck. She presented the perfect image of a duke’s daughter.

‘I hear you are to start your married life in the Bishop’s Palace at Lamphey, Lady Margaret,’ I began. ‘I have been there and it is truly a green and pleasant place set among lakes and trees. I am sure you will find much to delight you.’

Margaret regarded me solemnly. ‘It is kind of Bishop de la Bere to lend it to us but I believe he does not go there himself, or even to Wales, surprisingly. I suppose as Almoner to the king he is much involved in Council affairs.’ I detected a note of disapproval in her young voice at the notion of such an absentee shepherd of his flock.