Teddy remembers his father, despite these long days of separation, and jumps towards him, his arms oustretched. Ned snatches up his son, and I see how small my boy is, when he is held in his tall father’s arms, against his broad chest. Teddy puts his arm around his father’s neck and holds his face against his cheek. Thomas gives the gummy beam that he shows to everyone, and waves a sticky hand.

“How handsome they are, how well they look! Who would have thought that we would have brought such bright blooms from this dark place?” Ned says. “Truly, it is a miracle.”

“It is,” I say. “And now we will start our married life with two boys, two sons and heirs, in your family house. We are going to Hanworth, aren’t we?”

“Yes. We have to thank my mother for this release. I know that she has been writing constantly to William Cecil about us. She will want us at home.”

The lieutenant comes to my side. “My lady, we have to go now if we are to make the journey without too much fatigue for the children. It’s going to be very hot later.”

“Of course,” I say. I take hold of Teddy’s plump little bottom, but he tightens his grip on his father and insists: “Teddy—Dada! Dada!”

“Will Teddy ride with me?” Ned asks. “I don’t think we’ll get him off me without a crowbar.”

“Do you want to ride with your dada, on his big horse?” I ask him.

Teddy lifts his beaming face from his father’s neck and nods. “Teddy—Dada. Hee-up.”

“Teddy can go before his father, and when he wants to rest he can be carried by Lucy as she rides pillion,” I suggest.

“Your lordship’s horse has cast a shoe,” the lieutenant says to Ned. “Farrier is shoeing him now. He’ll be a few minutes more. Best to let her ladyship start her journey so she can rest as she pleases. You’ll catch her up on the road; the wagon will be so slow.”

“Very well. Teddy can wait with me and we’ll catch you up. I’ll hold him steady,” Ned promises me. He kisses me again, over our little son’s head. I have a moment of rare joy when I embrace my husband and my elder son together, my hand on my husband’s shoulder, the other around my little boy.

“I’ll see you on the road.” I cup my hand around my son’s cheek. “Be a good boy for your dada and keep your hat on.”

“Yeth,” my boy says obediently, his grip tight on his father’s neck.

“He’s choking me.” My husband smiles. “Don’t fear he’ll fall off. He’s clinging on as if he was Mr. Nozzle.”