Thus began our correspondence. Never did poets write verses so passionately. It was a joy to me to know that Tom was missing me as much as I was missing him, although I was sometimes unnerved by the bitterness in him. He did not hesitate to criticise our imprisonment and those who had separated us. If the poems had been discovered and brought to my uncle’s notice, Tom would have been in serious trouble. It was never a wise idea to question or criticise the decisions of the King. But Tom was clearly an angry man. His vehemence was the measure of his love.

We both were still hoping that we had a future together, although Tom was at times despondent. Then I would encourage him, praising him for his devotion and constancy. Of course, I was the one with more cause for hope. The King loved me and had at times shown himself an indulgent uncle. He had stayed his hand at sending us to the block, and his displeasure could not last forever. Yes, we did have a future, and I told Tom in my verses that we must hold to that. One day soon, we would be freed.

But summer came, and still we were prisoners. With it came a change in Tom’s poems. He dwelt too morosely on the hopelessness of his situation and became morbidly preoccupied with death. It made me wonder if he was keeping something from me. Had he been warned that he would never see me again? When he spoke of lovers being parted, I feared they had told him that I alone was to be sent away from the Tower. Whatever it was, he clearly felt there was nothing left for him in life but a speedy decline to the grave. I wept when I read his verses, longing to comfort and hearten him.

Even in the Tower there was rejoicing when Queen Jane bore a prince. I heard the church bells ringing and Sir William permitted me to share a toast with him. I think he had grown quite fond of me by then. I never gave him any trouble and did everything I was bid. I’m sure he never knew about the messages Mr Shelton conveyed for me.

The Prince’s birth meant that I was no longer in the perilous position of being heir presumptive to the crown, or so important politically. Immediately, in the joyous flush of new fatherhood, my uncle pardoned me and set me at liberty.

My bondage was past, my hope of freedom won! I prayed that Tom would be released too.