‘And when was the king’s death announced? And Lady Jane falsely proclaimed?’

‘Not when I left.’

She took a moment to understand, and then she was angry. ‘He has died, and it has not been announced? My brother is lying dead, unwatched? Without the rites of the church? Without any honours done to him at all?’

‘His death was still a secret when I left.’

She nodded, her lips biting back anything she might have said, her eyes suddenly veiled and cautious. ‘I thank you for coming to me,’ she said. ‘Thank Sir Nicholas for his services to me which I had no cause to anticipate.’

The sarcasm in this was rather sharp, even for the man on his knees. ‘He told me you are the true queen now,’ he volunteered. ‘And that he and all his household are to serve you.’

‘I am the true queen,’ she said. ‘I always was the true princess. And I will have my kingdom. You can sleep here tonight. The porter will find you a bed. Go back to London in the morning and convey my thanks to him. He has done the right thing to inform me. I am queen, and I will have my throne.’

She turned on her heel and swept up the stair. I hesitated for only one moment.

‘Did you say the sixth?’ I asked the London man. ‘The sixth of July, that the king died?’

‘Yes.’

I dropped him a curtsey and followed Lady Mary upstairs. As soon as we got into her room she closed the door behind us, and threw aside her regal dignity. ‘Get me the clothes of a serving girl, and wake John Huddlestone’s groom,’ she said urgently. ‘Then go to the stables and get two horses ready, one with a pillion saddle for me and the groom, one for you.’

‘My lady?’

‘You call me Your Grace now,’ she said grimly. ‘I am Queen of England. Now hurry.’

‘What am I to tell the groom?’

‘Tell him that we have to get to Kenninghall today. That I will ride behind him, we will leave the rest of them here. You come with me.’

I nodded and hurried from the room. The serving maid who had waited on us last night was sleeping with half a dozen others in the attic bedrooms. I went up the stairs and peeped in the door. I found her in the half-darkness and shook her awake, put my hand over her mouth and hissed in her ear: ‘I’ve had enough of this, I’m running away. I’ll give you a silver shilling for your clothes. You can say I stole them and no-one will be the wiser.’

‘Two shillings,’ she said instantly.

‘Agreed,’ I said. ‘Give them me, and I’ll bring you the money.’

She fumbled under her pillow for her shift and her smock. ‘Just the gown and cape,’ I ordered, shrinking from the thought of putting the Queen of England in louse-ridden linen. She bundled them up for me with her cap and I went light-footed downstairs to Lady Mary’s room.