‘Her Grace has come to ask me to make sure that her husband is invited to all meetings of the royal council,’ the queen says wearily.

Cecily nods and says, ‘As he should be. As his family always has been. As the king promised he would be.’

I wait.

‘I have been explaining to Her Grace that since I am in confinement I can play no part in the business of ruling,’ the queen says.

‘Really, you should not be seeing visitors at all,’ I remark.

‘I am sorry to come, but how else is my husband’s position to be considered?’ the duchess says, looking remarkably impenitent. ‘The king will see no-one, and is not even attended by a court. And the Duke of Somerset is no friend to my husband.’ She turns to the queen again. ‘You do the country a great disservice when you do not let my husband serve,’ she says. ‘He is the greatest magnate in the kingdom and his loyalty to the king is unquestioned. He is the king’s closest cousin and his heir. Why is he not invited to attend the king’s council? How can business be agreed without considering his opinion? You call on him quickly enough when you want arms and money; he should be there when the decisions are taken.’

The queen shrugs. ‘I will send the Duke of Somerset a note,’ she offers. ‘But I understand that not much is being undertaken. The king has withdrawn into prayer and I am still confined. I imagine the duke is managing day-to-day affairs as best he can with a few advisors.’

‘My husband should be one of the advisors,’ the duchess insists.

I step forwards and make a little gesture towards the door. ‘I am sure the queen is glad that you brought it to her attention,’ I say. Unwillingly, the duchess allows herself to be guided away. ‘And since Her Grace has said that she will write a note to the duke, I am sure your husband will receive his invitation to the council.’

‘And he must be there when they present the baby to the king.’

I freeze at this and exchange a quick aghast look with the queen. ‘Forgive me,’ I say when Margaret is silent. ‘You know I was not brought up in an English court. And this is the first time I have been present at the birth of a prince.’ I smile, but she – a born and bred Englishwoman – does not. ‘Please tell me. How is the baby presented to the king?’

‘He has to be presented by the Privy Council,’ Cecily Neville says with just a hint of glee at my discomfort. I think she knows that we had not planned for this. ‘In order for the baby to be accepted as the heir to the throne and the prince of the realm he has to be presented by the Privy Council to the king, and the king has to formally accept him as his son and heir. Without that – he is not the heir to the throne. If he is not recognised by his father he cannot be recognised as heir to England. He cannot take his titles. But there can be no difficulty, can there?’