I became conscious that someone else had entered the room through an inner door. I turned and found myself looking at the magnificently dressed figure of the Lady Elizabeth, the King’s second daughter. Lord Parr bowed deeply to her and I followed suit. I had met Elizabeth the year before, in the company of the Queen, to whom she was close. She had grown since then; almost thirteen, she was tall and the outline of budding breasts could be seen under the bodice of her dress. It was a splendid concoction; crimson, decorated with flowers, the forepart and under-sleeves gold and white. A jewelled French hood was set on her light auburn hair.

Elizabeth’s long, clever face had matured, too; despite her pale colouring I saw in her features a resemblance to her disgraced, long-dead mother, Anne Boleyn. She had acquired, too, an adult’s poise, no longer displaying the gawkishness of a girl. She stood looking at Jane’s antics with haughty disapproval.

The Queen seemed surprised to see her. ‘My dear. I thought you were still with Master Scrots.’

Elizabeth turned to her stepmother. ‘I have been standing still for hours on end,’ she answered petulantly. ‘I insisted upon a rest. Will the painting of this picture never end? Kat Ashley that is attending me fell asleep!’

‘It is important you have your own portrait, child,’ the Queen said gently. ‘It helps establish your position, as we have discussed.’

Jane Fool sat down on the floor, pouting, clearly annoyed at the Lady Elizabeth for taking the attention of her audience. Elizabeth glanced at her, then turned to the Queen. ‘Can you ask Jane Fool to go? She is unseemly, waving her great bottom in the air like that.’

Jane, quick as a flash, appealed to the Queen in a tone of injured innocence. ‘Your majesty, will you let the Lady speak to me so, I that seek only to entertain you?’

Elizabeth’s face darkened. ‘God’s death,’ she snapped in sudden temper, ‘you do not entertain me! Get out!’

‘Leave now, Jane.’ The Queen spoke hastily. Jane looked alarmed for a moment, then picked up her wand and left without another word.

The anger left the Lady Elizabeth’s face, and she smiled at Lord Parr. ‘My good Lord, it is a pleasure to see you.’ She looked at me. I bowed deeply. When I rose, her dark eyes were puzzled for a moment but then her face cleared. ‘This gentleman, too, I know. Yes, Master Shardlake, you and I once had an agreeable discussion about the law. I thought long on it.’

‘I am greatly pleased it interested you, my Lady, though I am surprised you remember.’

‘God has blessed me with a good memory.’ Elizabeth smiled complacently. If she was half a woman in body now, she was more than half in mind and demeanour. Yet her remarkably long fingers fiddled nervously with the rope of pearls at her waist.