“And he’s bringing his son,” says the chamberlain, and he dares to wink at me, as if I am some lighthearted girl who would be foolishly excited by the news.

“Oh, how exciting!” says my lighthearted sister Katherine.

I give a patient sigh and say that I will be reading in my bedroom until it is time for me to dress for dinner. If I close the door between my bedroom and our privy chamber, it may be that Katherine takes the hint and stays out.

Not so.

Within a moment there is a tap on the linenfold-panel door, and she puts her fair head into my private room and says: “Oh! Are you studying?” As if I ever do anything else.

“Certainly, that was my intention when I closed my door.”

She is deaf to irony. “What do you think the Duke of Somerset is coming here for?” she asks, tripping into the room without any invitation. Mary trails in behind her, as if my rooms are a royal presence chamber and anyone can get past the sergeant porter if they have good enough clothes.

“Are you bringing that disgusting monkey in here?” I cut across her as I see him riding on her shoulder.

She looks shocked. “Of course I am. Mr. Nozzle goes with me everywhere. Except when I visit the poor bear. He is afraid of the poor bear.”

“Well, he can’t come in here and spoil my papers.”

“He will not. He will sit on my lap. He is a very good Mr. Nozzle.”

“Take him out.”

“I won’t.”

“Take him out, I command it.”

“You can’t make me.”

“I am the oldest and these are my rooms...”

“I am the prettiest and I am visiting you from politeness...”

We scowl at each other. She shows me his silver chain that goes around his scrawny black neck. “Jane, please! I will hold him tight,” she promises me.

“I shall hold him for you!” Mary offers, so now I have the two of them clamoring to hold the monkey, who should not be in my rooms anyway.

“Oh, just go!” I say irritably. “Both of you.”

But instead Katherine turns and hauls Mary up into a chair where the child sits, no bigger than a doll, smiling at me with all the charm in the world.

“Sit straight,” Katherine reminds her, and Mary puts back her shoulders and sits up tall.

“No! Just go!”

“I will, as soon as I have asked you this question.” Katherine is happy because she is getting her own way as usual. She is ridiculously pretty, and about as sensible as Mr. Nozzle.

“Very well,” I say sternly. “Ask your question, and then go.”

She takes a breath. “Why do you think the Duke of Somerset is coming here?”

“I have no idea.”

“Because I know. So why don’t you? I thought you were supposed to be so very, very clever?”