‘Why does he not arrest them all and behead them?’ Margaret demands. ‘Why pardon?’

It seems to be his way. After he has issued pardons to all the rebels his new enthusiasm for warfare spills over into a proposal for an expedition – to go to Calais and use the garrison as a base to reconquer the English lands in France. For the king this would be to step in the footsteps of his more heroic father, for Edmund Beaufort it would be to redeem his reputation. I expected the queen to be thrilled at the thought of Beaufort and the king on campaign but I find her in her room picking over some embroidery, her head down. When she sees me she shifts up in her seat and beckons me beside her. ‘I cannot bear for him to take such a risk,’ she says to me quietly. ‘I cannot bear to think of him in battle.’

I am surprised, and pleased at her emotion. ‘Are you so tender to His Grace the king?’ I ask hopefully. ‘I know I cannot bear it when Richard goes to war.’

She turns her pretty head from me as if I have said something too foolish to answer. ‘No. Not him. Edmund, Edmund Beaufort. What would become of us if he were to be hurt?’

I take a breath. ‘These are the fortunes of war,’ I say. ‘Your Grace should perhaps hold a special intercessory Mass for the safety of the king.’

She brightens at the thought of it. ‘Yes. We could do that. It would be terrible if anything were to happen to him. He would leave no heir but Richard, Duke of York, and I would rather die myself than see York inherit the throne after all he has said and done. And if I were to be widowed I would never be married again, as everyone will think I am barren.’ She looks askance at my broadening body. ‘You don’t know what it is like,’ she says. ‘To wait and to hope and to pray but never, never to have a sign of a child coming.’

‘There is still no sign?’ I ask. I had hoped that she might be with child, that the king militant might have been more of a husband than before.

She shakes her head. ‘No. None. And if the king goes to war he will face my uncle the King of France on the battlefield. If Henry withdraws or retreats, then everyone will laugh at us.’

‘He will have good commanders in the field,’ I say. ‘Once he gets to Calais Richard will put a strong standard bearer beside him, to keep him safe.’

‘Richard was beside him before, when all he had to face was Jack Cade and a rabble,’ she says. ‘A half-pay captain and a band of working men with pitchforks. You didn’t see the king then, Jacquetta, he was terrified. He was frightened like a girl. I’ve never seen him ride as fast as when we left London.’ She puts her hand over her mouth as if to stop disloyal words. ‘If he runs from the French king I will be shamed to the ground,’ she says very quietly. ‘Everyone will know. All my family will know.’