‘Lit with candles,’ he said. ‘And a mirror, and a table covered with a linen cloth. There should be more, but we’ll do what we can.’

Elizabeth went into her privy chamber beyond the audience room and we heard her drawing the curtains and pulling a table before the fireplace. John Dee set out his astronomical charts on her desk; when she came back he had drawn a line through the queen’s date of birth and the date of birth of the king.

‘Their marriage was in Libra,’ he said. ‘It is a partnership of deep love.’

I looked quickly at Elizabeth’s face but she was not scoffing, thinking of her triumph over her sister in her flirtation with Philip, she was too serious for her petty triumphs now.

‘Will it be fruitful?’ she asked.

He drew a line across the thin columns of dizzying numbers. He drew another downward, and where the lines intersected he leaned forward to read the number.

‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘But I can’t be sure. There will be two pregnancies.’

Elizabeth drew a little gasp like the hiss of a cat. ‘Two? Live births?’

John Dee consulted the number again and then another set of numbers at the foot of the scroll. ‘It is very obscure.’

Elizabeth held herself very still, there was no outward sign of her desperation to know.

‘So who will inherit the throne?’ she asked tightly.

John Dee drew another line, this time horizontally, across the columns. ‘It should be you,’ he said.

‘Yes, I know it should be me,’ Elizabeth said, reining in her impatience. ‘I am the heir now, if I am not overthrown. But will it be me?’

He leaned back, away from the pages. ‘I am sorry, Princess. It is too unclear. The love that she bears him and her desire for a child obscures everything. I have never seen a woman love a man more, I have never seen a woman long more intensely for a child. Her desire is in every symbol of the table, it is almost as if she could wish a child into being.’

Elizabeth, her face like a beautiful mask, nodded. ‘I see. Would you be able to see more if Hannah would scry for you?’

John Dee turned to me. ‘Will you try, Hannah? And see what we can learn? It is God’s work, remember, we will be seeking the advice of angels.’

‘I’ll try,’ I said. I was not very eager to enter the darkened room, and look in the shadowy mirror. But the thought of bringing Lord Robert the news that might release him, of bringing the queen the news that might give her the greatest joy since her coming to the throne, was a great temptation for me.

I went into the room. The candleflames were bobbing either side of a golden mirror. The table was covered with a white linen cloth. As I watched, John Dee drew a five-sided star on the linen with a dark spluttery pen, and then symbols of power at each corner.