She flings open the chest and brings out my hood and I stand with my heart pounding as she pins up my blond hair, and then straightens my hood on top. I take my wedding ring off my finger, kiss it, put it on a chain, and tell her to fasten it round my neck. She tightens the laces of my gown at the sleeves and on the kirtle, and I hold my arms wide like a little doll, so she can settle the bodice into place, and just as she says, “Perfect, your ladyship,” there is a knock on the door and I meet her eyes and smile and say: “At last. God be praised. At last.”

I take my seat on my chair and she opens my door, curtseys to Sir William and steps back to present him to me. He comes into the room and bows low. Behind him I see the captain who led his men to the front door, his bonnet in his hand; he bows as he sees me and I incline my head.

“Lady Mary.” Sir William bows. “Here’s a sudden change.”

I cannot stop myself smiling. “I heard the horses,” I say.

“They have come to take you from us,” Sir William says, flustered. “With no warning, of course. But we will be sorry to see you go, your ladyship.”

I wriggle to the edge of the chair and drop to my feet. I put out my hand to him and he goes down on one knee to kiss it. “God bless you,” he says huskily. “God be praised that you are free.”

“You have been a kind host,” I say. “But of course, I am glad to go.”

“You are to pack your things and leave in the morning,” he says. “I hope that will be convenient.”

I would walk out of here and leave the old bed, the chair, the little table, and the stool tucked underneath it. I would leave my clothes and walk out barefoot in my shift if I could go to Bradgate tonight.

“Perfectly,” I say.

The commander of the guard behind Sir William bows and says: “We will leave after breakfast, your ladyship. At seven of the clock, if that is convenient to you?”

I incline my head. “Perfectly,” I say again.

Sir William hesitates. “You don’t ask where you are going?”