‘Would she confide in you?’

‘She would speak to her Cleves companions first, I think. But she sometimes asks me things about England. She trusts me, I think.’

He turns to the window and taps his thumbnail against his yellow teeth. His sallow face is creased in thought.

‘There is a difficulty,’ he says slowly.

I wait.

‘As you heard, they have indeed sent her without the proper documents,’ he says. ‘She was betrothed when she was a child to Francis of Lorraine, and the king needs to see that this engagement was cancelled and put aside before he goes any further.’

‘She is not free to marry?’ I demand, astounded. ‘When the contracts have been signed and she has come all this way and been greeted by the king as his bride? When the City of London has welcomed her as their new queen?’

‘It is possible,’ he says evasively.

It is absolutely impossible, but it is not my place to say so. ‘Who says that she may not be free to marry?’

‘The king fears to proceed. His conscience is uneasy.’

I pause, I cannot think fast enough to make sense of this. This is a king who married his own brother’s wife, and then put her aside because he said the lifelong marriage was invalid. This is a king who put Anne Boleyn’s head on the block as a matter of his own judgement under the exclusive guidance of God. Clearly, this is not a king who would be deterred from marrying a woman just because some German ambassador did not have the right piece of paper to hand. Then I remember the moment when she pushed him aside, and his face as he stepped back from her at Rochester.

‘It is true then. He doesn’t like her. He can’t forgive her for her treatment of him at Rochester. He will find a way to get out of the marriage. He is going to claim pre-contract again.’ One glance at the duke’s dark face tells me that I have guessed right and I could almost laugh aloud at this new twist in the play that is King Henry’s comedy. ‘He doesn’t like her and he is going to send her home.’

‘If she confessed that she was pre-contracted she could go home again, without dishonour, and the king would be free,’ the duke says quietly.

‘But she likes him,’ I say. ‘At any rate, she likes him enough. And she can’t go home again. No woman of any sense would go home again. Go back to be spoiled goods in Cleves when you could be Queen of England? She would never want that. Who would marry her if he refuses her? Who could marry her if he declares her pre-contracted? Her life would be over.’

‘She could clear herself of the pre-contract,’ he says reasonably.

‘Is there one?’

He shrugs. ‘Almost certainly not.’

I think for a moment. ‘Then how can she be released from something that does not exist?’