We walked to the stables together to check that the horses were ready for the journey, and an awkward silence fell between us. I would never ask him how he could bear to leave these innocent days in the country and go back to his work as hangman.

He spoke first. ‘Hannah, you know, it is better that it is me there, advising, than any other.’

For a moment I did not understand him, then I realised that it was a plot, another plot, within a plot, within the great plots. Better that John Dee was examining Princess Elizabeth’s supporters and friends than a man whose loyalties were solid to the queen and who desired to see them all burn.

‘I don’t know how you can bear it,’ I said simply. ‘The woman I saw, without her fingernails . . .’

He nodded. ‘God forgive us,’ he said quietly. ‘I am sorry that you were taken up, Hannah.’

‘I thank you for saving me, if that is what you did,’ I said unwillingly.

‘Did you not know that I interceded for you?’

‘I did not quite understand it, at the time,’ I said carefully.

John Dee took my hand and patted it. ‘You are right. I had a greater aim in view than your life. But I am glad that you were only brushed, and not broken, by this.’

We walked into the stable-yard and there was Lord Robert, watching a wagon being loaded with goods that he wanted for his rooms at Richmond: a beautiful tapestry and some fine carpets. I went up and spoke to him privately.

‘Will you write and tell me how the queen does?’ I asked.

‘You are taking an interest in the succession?’

‘I take an interest in the queen,’ I said. ‘I had no truer friend when I first came to her service.’

‘And then you ran off and left her,’ he observed.

‘My lord, as you know, they were dangerous times. I was safer away from court then.’

‘And now?’

‘I don’t expect safety. But I have to find some way to make my living and to raise my son.’

He nodded. ‘Hannah, I would have you stay here for the time being, but by the summer I shall want you to meet me at court. I want you to see the queen again and enter her service.’

‘My lord, I am a fool no more. I have a child to care for and I am waiting for my husband.’

‘My child, you are a fool indeed if you think you can argue with me.’

That checked me. ‘I do not mean to argue,’ I said pacifically. ‘But I don’t want to be parted from my son, and I cannot go back into breeches.’

‘You can send him to a nurse. And you can be a fool in petticoats as well as breeches. There are many fools in petticoats, after all. You will not be an exception.’

I bit the inside of my lip to keep myself calm despite my sense of danger. ‘My lord, he is only a baby still, and he does not speak. He is in a strange country and we neither of us know anybody. Please let him stay with me. Please let me keep him.’