I went to my lord duke and found his barge ready to sail and he himself on the pier. ‘May I see you?’

‘Trouble?’ he asked. ‘I have to catch the tide.’

‘It is Lady Margaret Douglas,’ I say shortly. ‘She is in love with Charles Howard.’

‘I know,’ he says. ‘Are they married?’

Even I am shocked. ‘He is a dead man if they are.’

The thought of the queen’s brother, his own nephew, dead for treason does not disturb him. But then, it is a familiar thought. ‘Unless the king, in honeymoon mood, is minded to forgive young love.’

‘He might,’ I concede.

‘If Katherine were to put it to him?’

‘He has refused her nothing so far; but all she has asked for has been jewels and ribbons,’ I say. ‘Should she ask him if another member of her family can marry another of his? Won’t he suspect?’

‘Suspect what?’ he asks blandly.

I look around us. The boatmen are too far away to hear, the servants are all in Norfolk livery. Even so, I step closer. ‘The king will suspect that we are planning to take the throne,’ I say. ‘Look what happened to Henry Fitzroy when he was married to our Mary. Look what happened to our Thomas Howard when he was married to Lady Margaret. When these Tudor—Howard marriages take place a death follows thereafter.’

‘But if he was in generous mood . . .’ the duke starts.

‘You have planned this,’ I suddenly see.

He smiles. ‘Surely not; but I can see an advantage if it happens to come about. We hold so much of northern England, it would be such a pleasure to see a Howard on the throne of Scotland. A Howard heir to the Scots throne, a Howard grandson on the English throne. Worth a little risk, don’t you think? Worth a little gamble to see if our girl can pull it off?’

I am silenced by his ambition. ‘The king will see this,’ is reluctantly forced out of me by my own fear. ‘He is in love but he is not blinded with love. And he is a most dangerous enemy, sir. You know this. He is at his worst when he thinks his inheritance is threatened.’

The duke nods. ‘Fortunately we have other Howard children if dear Charles is snatched from us; and Lady Margaret is a fool who can be locked up at Syon Abbey for another year or two. At the very worst we do not lose much.’

‘Is Katherine to try to save them?’ I ask.

‘Yes. It’s worth a try,’ he says carelessly. ‘It’s a great gamble for a great prize,’ and he steps up the gangplank into the waiting barge. I watch them cast off the ropes and I see the barge swing into the current. The rowers’ oars are held upwards, like lances, and at the command they lower them in one smooth sweep into the green water. The Norfolk standard at the stern ripples out and the barge leaps forwards as the oars bite. In a moment the duke has gone.