“I can’t talk now,” I said. I gestured towards the trunk. “I am going on a journey.”

It was as though she had not heard me. She sat down on the end of the bed. Her legs were so short that they did not touch the ground and she swung them back and forth like a child.

“I never told you that I met Robert at Sawston,” she said. “Do you remember that year? The year King Edward died and your husband tried to put the traitor Jane Grey on the throne?” That myopic blue stare pinned me to the spot. “Antony gave Queen Mary shelter and for that Robert burned Sawston to the ground.”

My throat was suddenly dry. “I remember,” I said. “I’m sorry for it, but...” I hesitated. “Anna, we were on opposing sides. It is the fortunes of war. Your husband got Mary to safety and later he was rewarded for it.” I waited but she said nothing. “It was a long time ago,” I said lamely, “and no one died. Time has passed. We have a different queen now. Surely all can be forgotten?”

“I have not forgotten,” Anna said. “I never forgot.”

I hesitated. I did not know what else to say. “I had not realised you were at Sawston at the time,” I said weakly. “I’m sorry. It must have been very distressing for you.”

A bitter smile touched Anna’s mouth, no warmth in it. “The whole of Antony’s family was at Sawston that night. We were celebrating because I was expecting another child after three miscarriages. The babe was healthy and I felt well. It was a miracle.”

Horror and confusion made my brain run slow. “But you have no children,” I said, stupidly. “You are childless like me.”

Anna’s chin came up. “I am not like you, Amy,” she said scornfully. “I conceived, more than once. And then I lost my child when we were forced to flee in the panic and confusion of the fire. We were all terrified. I was running and I fell.” Once again, her hand rested protectively over her belly. “I hated Robert for that,” she added. Her conversational tone made the chilling words all the more shocking. “Every day I would pray that Queen Mary would execute him.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I had no idea.” I felt helpless. How could I appease her? How could I get rid of her before it was too late? My mind was running feverishly along the two parallel paths; how to calm Anna and send her away and how to be ready, for any moment Richard Varney might come...

“Mother said you were not to be told,” Anna said. She was not looking at me now but gazing at a point far distant, a point in the past, I guessed, and yet still vivid and painful in the present. “She said that Robert would one day become a powerful man and that it was in the interests of us all, whatever our creed, to put personal feelings aside and ally ourselves to him for the good of the family. She said I would have more children, and not to fret.”