‘You will never stand trial,’ she promises him. ‘I swear it. They shall withdraw.’

‘Your Grace . . .’ I whisper, taking hold of her sleeve,‘you cannot promise this.’

‘I have found him innocent of all charges,’ the king says. ‘But still they are calling for him to be tried and executed. They have to obey me! They must be made to listen to me!’

‘If they want you, they will have to come and get you!’ she swears passionately to William de la Pole. ‘They will have to get past me if they want to get you. They will have to take you from my chambers, if they dare!’

I slide my hand into hers and give her a little tug. But the king looks at her with admiration, he is fired up by her anger. ‘We will defy them! I will be king. I will rule how I choose: with you as my wife and William as my advisor. Does anyone dare say I cannot do this? Am I king or not?’

Of the three of them, only the newly minted duke does not bluster. ‘Yes, but we can’t resist them,’ he says quietly. ‘What if they come for me? What if the lords turn out their forces? Despite all you have said? You have allowed every lord in London to keep his own small army. Every enemy of mine can command hundreds of men. What if their armies come for me?’

‘Could you go to France?’ I ask him very softly. ‘To Flanders? You have friends there. Till it all blows over?’

The king looks up, suddenly flushed. ‘Yes, yes, go now!’ he commands. ‘While they are planning their next move. Go now. They will come for you and find the bird flown! I will give you gold.’

‘My jewels!’ the quecommands me. ‘Fetch them for him.’

I go as she orders, and pick out a few of her smallest pieces, marguerites made of pearls, some inferior emeralds. I put them in a purse and when I come back to the shadowy room the queen is weeping in the duke’s arms and he has the king’s own cloak around his shoulders and is slipping a fat purse into his pocket. Begrudgingly, I give him the queen’s pearls and he takes them without a word of thanks.

‘I will write to you,’ he says to them both. ‘I will not be far, just Flanders. And I will come home as soon as my name is cleared. We will not be parted for long.’

‘We will visit you,’ she promises. ‘This is not goodbye. And we will send for you, and write. You shall send messages with your advice. And you will come home soon.’

He kisses her hand and pulls his hood over his head. He bows to the king and nods to me and slides through the little door and is gone. We hear his footsteps going quietly down the stair, and then the muffled closing of the outer door as the king’s chief advisor goes out into the night like a thief.