‘One way or another,’ I reply, thinking of young Culpepper, slowly making his way towards the queen’s bed, thinking he is following his desires, not knowing he is following our plan.

‘I will think about it,’ he says.

‘I should like to marry again,’ I repeat. ‘I should like a man in my bed.’

‘You feel desire?’ he asks, almost surprised to learn that I am not some kind of cold-blooded snake.

‘Like any woman,’ I say. ‘I should like a husband and I should like to have another child.’

‘But unlike most women, you would only want that husband if he is a duke,’ he says with a small smile. ‘And presumably wealthy.’

I smile back. ‘Well, yes, my lord,’ I say. ‘I am not a fool to marry for love like some we know.’

ANNE, RICHMOND PALACE,

APRIL 1541

Calculation and, to tell truth, a grain of vanity took me to court for Christmas, and I think it was wise to be there to remind the king that I am his new sister. But fear brought me home again swiftly enough to Richmond. Long after the festivities and the presents are forgotten, the fear remains. The king was merry at Christmas but was in a dark mood for Lent, and I was glad to be here, and happy to be forgotten by the court. I decided not to go to court for Easter; nor shall I go with them on the summer progress. I am afraid of the king, I see in him both my brother’s tyranny and my father’s madness. I look at his darting, suspicious eyes and think that I have seen this before. He is not a safe man, and I think the rest of the court will come to realise that their handsome boy has turned into a strong man, and now the man is slowly becoming beyond control.

The king speaks wildly against reformers, Protestants and Lutherans, and both my conscience and my sense of safety encourage me to attend the old church and observe the old ways. Princess Mary’s faith is an example to me, but even without her I would be bending my knee to the sacrament and believing that wine is blood and bread is flesh. It is too dangerous to think otherwise in Henry’s England, not even thoughts are safe.

Why should he, who has indulged his own desire in his power and prosperity, look round like some savage animal for others that he can threaten? If he were not the king, people would say that this must be a madman, who marries a young wife and, within months of the wedding, is hunting out martyrs to burn. A man who chose the very day of his wedding for the execution day of his greatest friend and advisor. This is a mad and dangerous man, and slowly everyone is coming to see it.

He has taken it into his head that there is a plot by reformers and Protestants to overthrow him. The Duke of Norfolk and Archbishop Gardiner are determined to keep the church as it is now, stripped of its wealth but basically Catholic. They want the reform to freeze where it is now. Little Kitty can say nothing to contradict them, for she knows nothing; in all truth, I doubt she knows what prayers are in her book. Obedient to their hints, the king has ordered the bishops and even the parish priests to hunt down men and women in the churches all over England who do not show proper respect at the raising of the host, charge them with heresy, and have them burned.