He looks at me as if he would snatch me up before them all. He is desperate for me. He puts his hands behind his back as if to stop himself from reaching for me. “I am summoned to court,” he says. “My lord Hastings will keep you safe in my absence. I hope I shall be home soon.”

“I am to stay here until you return?”

“I believe so,” he says.

“And you will return?”

“I hope so.”

I feel my mouth quiver. I so want to cry out that he is not to go, or that I shall go with him. I cannot bear to stay here with his furious wife and with the cold Hastings. To tell the truth I am afraid of them both.

“I shall look for you,” is all I dare say in front of them all. “And I wish you a safe and pleasant journey.”

The twisted smile that he gives me as he bows over my hand tells me that he does not expect either. I want to whisper to him to come back to me soon, but I don’t dare. He presses my hand, it is all that he can do, and then he turns and mounts his horse quickly, and in a second—it is all far too quick—there is a scramble of the guards and he is riding out the gate, and I bite my lip so as not to call out.

I turn, and his wife is looking at me, her face hard. “I hope he comes home safely to you, Bess,” I say.

“You know that I have lost him, whether he comes home or not,” she says, and she turns her back on me, which she should not do, and walks away without a curtsy, which is worse.

WINDSOR CASTLE: GEORGE

JANUARY, 1570

It is a long cold journey in winter, and poor company on the road. Behind me is an inadequate farewell and ahead of me the certainty of an unkind welcome. Parted from the Queen of Scots, not even knowing if she is safe, I arrive at the court of the Queen of England and know myself in disgrace.

Every morning and every night, my first and last thought is of her, my lost queen, the other queen, and I torture myself with blame. I feel as if I have failed her. Even though I know well enough that I could not have kept her with me, not when Hastings was there with orders to take her, not when Cecil was determined that she should be parted from me. But even so... even so.

When I told her I was going to London, her eyes went darker with fear, but in front of Bess, Hastings, and Devereux she could say nothing but that she hoped I had a pleasant journey and a safe homecoming.