I cannot argue against Howard’s irritable righteousness. I know that he is speaking only the truth. But he is speaking it too loud and too clear for my liking. Anyone could be behind the tapestry screens, and though the stranger has strolled on, he must have heard some of this.

“Hush,” I say and draw him to a seat so that we can whisper. At once we look like conspirators, but the whole court looks like conspirators or spies these days. “What can we do?” I ask him quietly. “Cecil has called this inquiry to hear the evidence against the Scots queen, to judge whether she should be restored to her throne, whether she is fit to rule. What can we do to make sure that she is treated justly?”

“We have to save her,” Howard says firmly. “We have to declare her innocent of murdering her husband, and we have to restore her to her throne in Scotland. We have to accept her claim to be Elizabeth’s heir. She must be confirmed as heir to the throne of England when...” He breaks off. Not even Howard dares mention the death of his cousin the queen. “When the time comes. Only the confirmed inheritance of Mary Stuart will give us the safety of knowing our next monarch. We have a right to know the heir. We have to fight her cause as if it were our own.”

He sees my hesitation. A couple of men go by and look curiously at the two of us. I feel conspicuous and get to my feet.

“Walk with me,” Howard says. “And listen. We have to fight her cause as if it were our own because it is our own. Say that we let Cecil imprison her or trump up a charge of murder and accuse her. What do you think happens then?”

I wait.

“What if next he decides that I am a danger to the kingdom? What then? What if after me, he names you?”

I try to laugh. “He is hardly likely to accuse you, or me. We are the greatest men in England. I am the greatest landowner north of the Trent and you are the queen’s own cousin and a duke.”

“Yes. And that is why we are in danger. We are his rivals for power. He will destroy anyone who challenges him. Today the Queen of Scots faces his tribunal. Tomorrow it could be me, or any that have dared to challenge him: Percy, Dacre, Sussex, Arundel, Dudley, the Northern lords, you. He has to be stopped,” Howard says, his voice a low rumble in my ear. “Wouldn’t you stop him if you could?”

“It can’t be done,” I say cautiously. “The queen is free to choose her own advisors, and she trusts him like no other. He has been at her side since she was a young princess. What could we accuse him of?”