Whatever I had expected, it was not that. So that explained the smell. ‘A little trail of shit on the matting,’ Jane continued. ‘I was afraid the gentleman ushers might have Ducky sent away. I took a cloth and cleaned it up, using water from the Queen’s rosewater bowl. The scent of herbs in the room was so strong, I thought the smell might not be noticed. I went away at once, and told no one.’ Suddenly she yanked the duck’s leash, pulling it towards her with almost enough force to break its neck, then bent down and hugged it to her. It looked startled, as well it might. ‘Don’t let the hunchback tell, my Lady, I beg you. I love Ducky.’

‘No one will tell, Jane,’ the Lady Mary said. She looked at me then, her mouth twitching slightly, and I discerned she had a quality I had not guessed at before: a sense of humour.

‘Does that satisfy you, master lawyer?’ she asked.

‘Of course, my Lady.’

‘I will allow you to report the duck’s misdemeanour to Lord Parr,’ she said gravely. ‘But only on condition Jane is not parted from it. I think the Queen would agree.’

‘Of course, my Lady.’

‘Then we will leave you to your business.’

One of the ladies-in-waiting helped Jane to her feet; the other opened the door for the Lady Mary. I bowed low again. They went out, the duck waddling after the group on its webbed yellow feet. As I rose, the Lady Mary turned, looked at me, and gave a sardonic little smile. The door closed. I stood there, shaken by the unexpected and ridiculous turn of events. Ridiculous? I could not help but wonder whether I had just been made the victim of an elaborate charade, and whether Jane Fool knew more than she had said. But if so, she was an accomplished actress. And I had no evidence, none at all. I thought of her childlike demeanour. Perhaps that was what had attracted the Queen and the Lady Mary to her, two mature women who were childless and likely to remain so. Perhaps she was a substitute child for them and nothing more. But there was something about Mary Tudor that made me afraid to think of the Lamentation ending in her hands.

I STAYED IN the prayer closet, with the candles and incense. Half an hour passed, the light outside beginning to fade, before the door opened again and Lord Parr entered. He was frowning. ‘I am told the Lady Mary accompanied Jane Fool to see you. You gave her no hint about the book?’ He looked at me anxiously.

‘None, my Lord.’ I told him the absurd story about the duck, what I had gleaned from Garet Lynley about the man with half an ear missing, and Mary Odell’s story of the guard.