I should not waste my time grieving for the countess for she was very old, after all, as old as my grandmother. But best of all, when we get to York we are going to meet with the Scots court and with the king’s nephew King James of Scotland. The king is looking forward to this, and I am too, for there will be a great meeting of the two countries and jousting and tournaments and the English knights are certain to win for we have the bravest men and the best fighters. Tom Culpepper will wear his new suit of armour and I will be Queen of the Joust, with my new curtains on the royal box, and I cannot wait to see it.

I have practised everything. I have practised walking down the steps into the box and looking round to smile. I have practised sitting in the box and I have practised my gracious queen face, one that I shall put on when people cheer for me. And I have practised how I shall lean over the box and hand out the prizes.

‘You might as well practise how to breathe,’ Joan Bulmer says rudely.

‘I like to get things right,’ I say. ‘Everyone will be looking at me. I like to do it right.’

There will be more than a hundred English knights jousting and I believe every single one of them has asked to carry my favour. Thomas Culpepper took the opportunity to come to my presence chamber at Lincoln Castle, and kneel to me and ask if he could be my knight.

‘Has the king ordered you to ask me?’ I say, knowing very well that he has not.

He has the grace to look down, as if embarrassed. ‘This is my own suit from my own beating heart,’ he says.

‘You are not always so humble,’ I say. I am thinking of a very hard kiss and his hand clutching at my buttocks as if he would lift me on to his cock then and there in the gallery before we left Hampton Court.

He glances up at me, one quick, dark glance, and I know that he is thinking of that too. ‘Sometimes I dare to hope.’

‘You certainly act like a hopeful man,’ I say.

He giggles and ducks his head. I put my gloves to my lips to bite them so I don’t laugh aloud.

‘I know my mistress and my queen,’ he says seriously. ‘My heart beats faster when she just walks past me.’

‘Oh, Thomas,’ I whisper.

This is so delightful that I wish it could go on all day. One of my ladies comes towards us and I think she is going to interrupt but Lady Rochford says something to her and she is distracted, and pauses.

‘I always have to walk past,’ I say. ‘I can never pause for as long as I would wish.’

‘I know,’ he says, and under the caressing, flirtatious tone there is real regret. I can hear it. ‘I know. But I have to see you tonight, I have to touch you.’