I work in my still room, Elizabeth my earnest apprentice, steeping herbs in oil, checking the cut and dried herbs, poundrs down into powder and conserving them in jars. I do this by the order of the stars and I consult my lord’s books for how it should be done. Now and then I find a book I had overlooked which talks of making the aqua vitae, the water of life itself, or of burning off impurities by the touch of distilled waters; but I remember Eleanor Cobham behind the cold walls of Peel Castle, and I take the book from Elizabeth and put it on a high shelf. I never grow or dry any but the herbs that would be known to a good cook. Knowledge is just another thing to conceal, these days.

* * *

I am hoping that we will stay at home for another month; I am tired by this pregnancy and daring to hope that I might spend the whole summer in the country, that the king and queen will prolong their travels and leave us in peace. We have been riding out to visit some neighbours and come home in the sunset to see a royal messenger waiting by the water pump. He gets to his feet when he sees us and hands Richard a letter sealed with the royal crest.

Richard tears it open and scans it. ‘I have to go,’ he says. ‘This is urgent. I shall have to muster a troop as I ride.’

‘What has happened?’ I ask as I slip down from my saddle.

‘There’s a rising in Kent, as any fool could have foreseen. The king commands me to ride at his side and carry the royal standard.’

‘The king?’ I can hardly believe that our king is going to ride out at the head of his men. His father was a remarkable commander of men at a far younger age; but our king has never worn his armour except for jousting. ‘The king is going himself?’

‘He was very angry about de la Pole – God rest his soul,’ he reminds me. ‘He swore vengeance and the queen swore she would see the murderers dead. Now he has his chance.’

‘You will be careful.’ I take his arm to look up into his face. Between us is the unspoken thought that his commander will be a young man who has never seen any sort of warfare, not even a distant siege. ‘You will have to advise him.’

‘I’ll keep safe,’ my husband says wryly. ‘And I’ll keep him safe too, if I can. They have ordered the Sheriff of Kent to turn the county into a deer park, to drive out every man, woman and child: there will be hell to pay. I have to get back and see if I can advise them into some sense. I have to find a way to persuade them to rule the country with some sort of harmony. They make enemies every time they address parliament. The queen rides through the streets of London as if she hates the very cobbles. We have to serve them, Jacquetta. We have to guide them to follow their best interests, we have to get this royal couple back into the hearts of their people. It is our duty. It is our task. It is what our lord the Duke of Bedford would have wanted us to do.’