Robert leaped to his feet. It was the first time in all our acquaintance that I had been able to surprise him. It was most gratifying. He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it like a nervous schoolboy. “How did you know where I was?”

“Oh...” I glanced over my shoulder towards the passage. “William told me. He escorted me here.” I raised a brow. “Surely you did not think I came alone?”

“William Hyde?” He looked confused. “But—”

“I know,” I said. “He is supposed to be your loyal man but I found a way to persuade him.”

I saw Robert absorb the news of William’s betrayal. His mouth set grimly. He did not care for disloyalty.

“How?” he said.

“That need not concern you,” I said. “You cannot dismiss him,” I added gently. “We need him.”

His dark gaze snapped up to mine. “What do you mean?”

I poured for myself, since surprise seemed to have robbed him of his manners. I noted that my hand was quite steady. Robert was not so in command of himself. His gaze darted repeatedly to the open door so I walked over and closed it.

“Pray, sit down,” I said. “Do not agitate yourself. If the Queen comes...” I smiled. “Well, for once she will have to concede her place to your wife.”

He shot me a look of pure hatred. “Her Majesty does not care to be kept waiting.”

I shrugged. “I can only imagine how difficult your life must be in that case.” I raised my glass in a mocking toast. “To your future happiness.”

Robert poured a glass too, slopping the red wine onto the cloth where it spread like a bloodstain. He drank it down in one gulp.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“To negotiate a truce,” I said, “to suggest a solution.” I sat, arranging my skirts carefully. “You want to marry the Queen,” I said. “I want to be free. There is a way for us both to get what we want.”

He stared at me. I waited to see if he would insult me with some sort of conventional denial, an expression of shock or a false vow of affection. To his credit he did none of those. That time was past and we both knew it.

“The Queen would never marry me,” he said, “even if I were free.”

I thought this was probably true. From the moment I had seen Elizabeth at Hatfield I had doubted that she would marry anyone, no matter how her advisers urged her to make a foreign alliance. Danger and experience had taught her to be wary. She would never risk compromising her power as her sister had done, never risk putting herself and her country in any man’s hands. She loved Robert. She had said so. I thought she loved him a great deal, but not quite enough to put him above all else. And being Elizabeth, she probably thought she could demand his love, his adoration, his attention, his devotion and everything else she wanted without giving him the ultimate prize.