He sees my sudden attention. “Yes. I love to write. And I have so much that I recall so clearly.”

I clap my hands. “They will be worth reading, my lord! The things that you have seen! Whatever will you say?”

He does not laugh; his face is grave. “I will say that I have seen the birth of dark times,” he says quietly.

I see Mary coming towards us, through the garden, her ladies behind her, and I can see by the way she holds the crucifix on the rosary at her belt that she is nerving herself to say good-bye to this man who has been like a father to her. Indeed, he has been more of a father than the king ever was. He loved and served her mother and he loved and served her. Perhaps she thought he would never leave.

“I will let you say good-bye to the princess alone,” I say gently. “She will be so sad to see you go. She has trusted you for good advice since she was a very little girl. You are one of the few...” I mean to say that he is one of a very few faithful friends to her; but as I speak I am suddenly aware that she had many friends, and many of them have died. He is one of the few who has survived. Almost everyone who loved Mary was put to death by her father.

There are tears in his dark eyes. “You are generous to let us be alone together,” he says, his old voice trembling. “I have loved her since she was a little girl. It has been an honor to advise her. I wish I could have—” He breaks off. “I could not serve her as I hoped,” he says. “I did not keep her mother safe, nor her.”

“They were difficult times,” I say diplomatically. “But no one could doubt your devotion.”

He hauls himself to his feet as Princess Mary comes near. “I shall pray for you, Your Majesty,” he says quietly. “I shall pray for your safety.”

It is such a strange remark from the ambassador who could not save his own queen that I hesitate before beckoning Mary forward. “Oh, but I’m safe, thank you, Ambassador,” I say. “The king made me Regent General; he trusts me. You can have every confidence, Princess Mary is safe in my keeping. You can leave her without fear. I am Queen of England and her mother. I will keep her safe.”

Ambassador Chapuys looks at me as if he pities me. He has seen five queens take their place at the side of the king since his own Infanta from Spain. “It is you I am afraid for,” he says shortly.

I give a little laugh. “I would do nothing to offend the king,” I say. “And he loves me.”