‘The gentleman is to be congratulated; there are many men who would have been glad of your desire. Any man would be glad of your consent. Indeed, the council has been considering your next husband. Several names were proposed.’

I hide a smile at this. There is almost no council but him, Cardinal Beaufort and the Duke of Gloucester. If names were proposed then it will be this man who was proposing them.

‘The matter is already settled,’ I say stoutly. ‘And we are wedded and bedded, there is nothing that can be done. Whoever they have chosen for me is proposed too late. I am married to a good man. He has been very kind to me since the death of my lord John.’

‘And I see you have been very kind to him,’ he says with a little snigger. ‘Exceptionally kind. Well, I will tell His Grace, the king, and you can ask him for forgiveness.’

I nod. It would help me if William de la Pole would recommend this to the king. The king is always given to the opinion of the last man who spoke to him, and the three councillors compete to be the last out of the door. ‘Do you think he will be very angry?’ The king is a boy of fifteen. It is ridiculous that I should fear his anger.

‘No. But I am sure that his council will advise that you must be exiled from court, and they will fine you.’

I nod. ‘But you could persuade them to be kind.’

‘They will fine you heavily,’ he warns. ‘The king’s treasury is short of money and they all know you have the Bedford fortune. And it is a serious offence to marry without the king’s permission. They will say that you don’t deserve the money.’

‘I have only my dower,’ I say. ‘Most of the fortune has already gone to the king, and he has given it to his favourites.’ I don’t say, ‘You among them,’ but we know that is what I mean. ‘My lord’s brother, the Duke Humphrey, had the rest, I didn’t keep Penshurst.’

‘You have the dower of a royal duchess, but you have chosen to be the woman of a squire. I think you will find they will want your dower. You may find you have to live as the wife of a squire. I only hope that in a few years’ time you still think you have made a good bargain.’

‘I hope you will help me,’ I say. ‘I am counting on you.’

He just sighs.

* * *

He is right. One thousand pounds in gold they demand from us, and they order Richard to return to his post at Calais.

Richard is aghast. ‘My God! A fortune! We will never raise it! It is the price of a house and an estate, it is greater than my father’s entire fortune. Greater than any inheritance I could hope for. Greater than anything I could win. They mean to ruin us. They are forcing us to part.’