The Queen continued. ‘My Lord Archbishop told me the book must be destroyed. And yet – I believed, and still believe, that such a work, written by a Queen of England, could bring people to right faith.’ She looked at me pleadingly, as though to say: see, this is my soul, this is the truth I have learned, and you must listen. I was moved, but lowered my gaze. The Queen clasped her hands together, then looked between the three of us, her voice quietly sombre now. ‘Very well. I know. I was wrong.’ She added wearily, ‘Such faith in my own powers is itself a token of vanity.’

I asked, ‘Did you return the manuscript directly to your chest?’

‘Yes. Almost every day I would look at it. For a full month. Many times I nearly called you, Uncle.’

‘Would that you had,’ Lord Parr said feelingly.

‘Had it not been summer, had there been fires lit in the grate, once, twice, I would have burned it. But I hesitated, and days lengthened into weeks. And then, eleven days ago, the day after that scene with Wriothesley, I opened the chest and the book was gone. It was gone.’ She shook her head. I realized what a shock that moment must have been to her.

‘When had you last seen it?’ I asked gently.

‘That afternoon I looked over the manuscript again, wondering whether there were changes I might make that would render it safe to publish. Then, in the early evening, the King called me to his private chamber, and I was with him, talking and playing cards, till near ten. His legs were paining him; he needed distraction. Then, when I came to bed, I went to take it out, to look at it, to guide my prayers, and it was gone.’

‘Was there any sign the lock had been tampered with?’

‘No,’ she answered. ‘None at all.’

‘What else was in the chest, your majesty?’

‘Some of my jewels. Legacies from my second husband, and his daughter, dear Margaret Neville, who died this spring.’ A spasm of sadness crossed her face.

Lord Parr said, ‘All those jewels were of considerable value. But nothing apart from the manuscript was removed.’

I considered. ‘And this was the day following the incident with Wriothesley?’

‘Yes. The sixth of July. I have cause to remember recent days very well.’

Lord Parr said, ‘My niece contacted me at once. I was horrified to learn of the existence of the book, and what had happened to it.’

I looked at the old man. ‘I imagine the nature of the theft would make enquiries within the household – difficult.’