She gives a little giggle. ‘Oh, Lady Mother!’ she says reproachfully. ‘That you should stoop so low, and on my wedding day.’

I cannot help but smile. ‘Stoop so low as to what?’

‘As to lie,’ she whispers. ‘And to me! On my wedding day! I understand now that you foresaw that John would love me, and I him. I picked the apple blossom and I gave him the apple, just as you said. But long before that, the moment I first saw him, I knew exactly what you intended when you sent me here. I was standing before his mother when she was at her table in the rents room, and he came in the door behind her – I had not even known he was at home – and the moment I saw him, I knew why you had sent me to Groby and what you thought would happen.’

‘And were you glad? Was I right to send you?’

Her joy shines out of her bright grey eyes. ‘Very glad. I thought, if he were to like me, I should be the happiest girl in England.’

‘That was not foreseeing, that was nothing more than knowing that you are beautiful and lovable. I could have sent you to any handsome young man’s household and he would have fallen in love with you. There was no magic in that but a girl and a boy in springtime.’

She is glowing. ‘I am glad. I wasn’t sure. I am so glad that he is in love but not enchanted. But surely you have looked to see my future? Did you put the charms in the river? What did you draw from the waters? Did you look for us in the cards? What will my future be?’

‘I didn’t read the cards.’ I lie to her, my little daughter, I lie barefaced like a hard-hearted old witch, denying the truth on her wedding night, and I lie to her with my face completely serene. I am going to tell her a lie that is utterly convincing. I will not have my foresight overshadowing her present happiness. I will deny my gift, deny what it has shown me. ‘You are mistaken, my dear, I didn’t read the cards and I didn’t look in a mirror. I didn’t put any charms in the river because I didn’t have to. I can predict your happiness without any craft. Just as I knew he would love you. I can tell you that I know you will be happy, and I think there will be children, and the first one quite soon.’

‘Girl or boy?’

‘You will be able to tell that yourself,’ I smile. ‘Now you have your own wedding ring.’

‘And I will be Lady Grey of Groby,’ she says with quiet satisfaction.

I feel a shiver, like a cold hand on the nape of my neck. I know that she will never inherit here. ‘Yes,’ I say, defying my better knowledge. ‘You will be Lady Grey of Groby and the mother of many fine children.’ This is what she must hear as she goes into her wedding bed on her wedding night. ‘God bless you, my darling, and give you joy.’