‘I hope they kill him!’ I snapped, and walked away, trying not to cry at my folly in trusting my heart to such a knave. I had sought the best and found the worst. This was where my foolish fancy had led me!

I lay on my bed, weeping salty tears and filled with remorse and grudges. I knew it was only a matter of time before they came for me. My head was filled with dark memories of the Tower, where I expected to be confined again before long.

I quaked when Archbishop Cranmer and a deputation of Privy Councillors called upon me. Cranmer looked at me severely.

‘Madam, we are here to do the King’s pleasure. His Highness knows how indiscreetly and ungratefully you have behaved yourself towards him, first with Lord Thomas Howard and now with Mr Charles Howard. He wishes me to censure you for your conduct and to warn you to beware the third time, and wholly apply yourself to please him and obey his will and command.’

I fell to my knees. ‘I am very sorry to have offended his Highness,’ I bleated.

‘Think yourself lucky,’ the Archbishop barked. ‘The King is most vexed at having to be bothered with your misconduct at this time.’

‘It was but a flirtation,’ I cried.

‘His Highness is aware of that, Madam. Nonetheless, you have been foolish. Your marriage is in his Majesty’s gift and you may not dispose of yourself or indulge in illicit flirtations. Do I make myself understood?’

‘Yes, my lord,’ I said weakly. ‘What is to happen to me?’

‘The Queen’s household is being broken up,’ he informed me. That sounded ominous, but I was too preoccupied with my own fate to dwell on what might happen to Katheryn. ‘The King’s pleasure is that you be conducted to Kenninghall in Norfolk in the company of my lady of Richmond, if she and my lord her father are agreeable.’

It took me a moment to realise that this was to be the extent of my punishment. I was to go to the palatial Kenninghall, a house of which Mary Howard had often spoken proudly, and lodge with her, my dear friend and fellow poet. My spirits soared. It was not even banishment, for there was no place now for any lady at court.

Of course, the Duke of Norfolk agreed, and Mary and I left Hampton Court almost immediately. Fortunately, the weather was kind to us on our journey.

‘My father is grateful to be of service to the King by offering you shelter under his roof,’ Mary said, as we took the road to London, our small escort trailing behind. ‘He was grieved to see the King so sad and feels responsible.’

‘His Highness loved the Queen so much,’ I said.