‘There is nothing, nothing, more precious to me than this throne. There is nothing more precious to me than these people; and yet they cannot see it and they will not trust me!’

She was shaking, I had never seen her so distressed. ‘Your Grace,’ I said. ‘You must be calm. You have to seem serene, even when you are not.’

‘I have to have someone on my side,’ she whispered, as if she had not heard me. ‘Someone who cares about me, someone who understands the danger I am in. Someone to protect me.’

‘Prince Philip of Spain will not . . .’ I began but she raised her hand to silence me.

‘Hannah, I have nothing else to hope for but him. I hope that he comes to me, despite all the wicked slander against him, despite the danger to us both. Despite the threats that they will kill him the moment he sets foot in this kingdom. I hope to God that he has the courage to come to me and make me his wife and keep me safe. For as God is my witness, I cannot rule this kingdom without him.’

‘You said you would be a virgin queen,’ I reminded her. ‘You said you would live as a nun for your people and have no husband but them and no children but them.’

She turned away from the window, from the view of the cold river and the iron sky. ‘I said it,’ she concurred. ‘But I did not know then what it would be like. I did not know then that being a queen would bring me even more pain than being a princess. I did not know that to be a virgin queen, as I am, means to be forever in danger, forever haunted by the fear of the future, and forever alone. And worse than everything else: forever knowing that nothing I do will last.’

* * *

The queen’s dark mood lasted till dinner time and she took her seat with her head bowed and her face grim. A deadened silence fell over the great hall, no-one could be merry with the queen under a cloud, and everyone had their own fears. If the queen could not hold her throne, who could be sure of the safety of his house? If she were to be thrown down and Elizabeth to take her place then the men who had just restored their chapels and were paying for Masses to be sung would have to turn their coats again. It was a quiet anxious court, everyone looking around, and then there was a ripple of interest as Will Somers rose up from his seat, straightened his doublet with a foppish flick of his wrists and approached the queen’s table. When he knew that all eyes were upon him he dropped elegantly to one knee and flourished a kerchief in a bow.

‘What is it, Will?’ she asked absently.

‘I have come to proposaloh matrimonioh,’ Will said, as solemn as a bishop, with a ridiculous pronunciation of the words. The whole court held its breath.