‘Does the queen entertain Lutherans?’

‘No, never.’ This is true, she is most careful to conform to English ways and takes Mass according to the rules of Archbishop Cranmer, as if she were another Jane Seymour, born to serve.

‘Does she see Papists?’

I am astounded by this question. This is a girl from Cleves, the heartland of reform. She was raised to think of Papists as Satan on earth. ‘Of course not! She was born and bred a Protestant, she was brought here by the Protestant set, how would she entertain Papists?’

‘Is Lady Lisle intimate with her?’

My swift glance to his face tells him of my shock.

‘We have to be ready, we have to be prepared. Our enemies are everywhere,’ he cautions me.

‘The king himself appointed Lady Lisle to her household and Anne Bassett, her daughter, is one of his own favourites,’ I say. ‘I have no evidence against Lady Lisle.’ Because there is none, and there could never be any.

‘Or Lady Southampton?’

‘Lady Southampton?’ I repeat incredulously.

‘Yes.’

‘I know of nothing against Lady Southampton either,’ I say.

He nods. We both know that evidence, especially of witchcraft and ill-wishing, is not hard to create. It is a whisper, and then an accusation, and then a shower of lies, and then a show trial and then a sentence. It was done before to rid the king of a wife he did not want, a woman who could be sent to the block without her family lifting a finger to save her.

He nods, and I wait for long moments in silent dread, thinking that he may order me to frame evidence that will be the death of an innocent woman, thinking what I can say if he makes such a terrible demand of me. Hoping that I can find the courage to refuse him, knowing that I will not. But he says nothing, so I curtsey to him and move towards the door; perhaps he has finished with me.

‘He will find evidence of a plot,’ he predicts as my hand is on the brass latch.

‘He will find evidence against her, you know.’

At once I freeze. ‘God help her.’

‘He will find evidence that either the Papists or the Lutherans have set a witch in his household to unman him.’

I try to keep my face expressionless; but this is such a disaster for the queen, perhaps such danger for me, that I can feel my panic rising at my uncle’s calm words.

‘Better for us if he names Lutherans as the traitors,’ he reminds me. ‘And not our party.’

‘Yes,’ I agree.

‘Or if he does not seek her death he will get a divorce on the grounds that she was pre-contracted, if that fails he will get a divorce on the grounds that he did not desire her and so he did not consent to the wedding.’

‘He said “I do” before witnesses,’ I whisper. ‘We were all there.’