Now, two Howards—the Duke of Norfolk and his heir, the earl—are held in the Tower without charge, without accusation, without reason given. The unthinkable has happened to them: the Howards, father and son, who have brought so many innocent people to the scaffold, who have sat high on their horses and watched innocent men hang, are imprisoned themselves.

The news of the fall of their rivals brings Thomas Seymour back to court in a hurry to consult with his brother, and Anne Seymour hovers in the doorway of the Seymour rooms to listen and then reports back to me.

“Apparently the Howard house Kenninghall was searched from top to bottom on the very day that the duke was arrested. They went in at the very moment that he was taken to the Tower. My husband’s clerk says that the charge is to be treason.”

Joan Denny, whose husband, Sir Anthony, is in the king’s confidence, agrees. “The Duke of Norfolk’s mistress has signed a paper saying that the duke said that His Majesty was very sick.” She lowers her voice. “She will say on oath that he said that the king couldn’t last long.”

There is a shocked silence: not that the duke should say what everyone knows, but that his mistress should betray him to the Lord Chancellor’s men.

Anne nods, avid at this disaster falling on her rivals. “They were planning to alter the royal will, seize the prince, and take the throne.”

I look at her incredulously. “No, that’s impossible. Take the throne? The Norfolks are creatures of the throne. They have spent their lives jumping like fleas in any direction that any king might take. They never hesitate to obey him, whatever he asks. Their own daughters...” I break off but we all know that Mary Boleyn, her sister, Anne, her cousin Madge Shelton, their cousin Katherine Howard, were all Howard girls paraded before the king by their family and given to him as wives or whores.

Anne Seymour bristles at the mention of the Howard young women. Her own lamented sister-in-law Jane Seymour took a swift and dishonorable path from lady-in-waiting to queen. “Well, at least Mary Howard refused.”

“Refused what?”

“To be dishonored. With her own father-in-law!”

I don’t follow her. “Anne, be clear with me. Who wanted Mary Howard dishonored? And what do you mean by her father-in-law? You don’t mean the king?”

She draws closer to me, her face bright with scandalized excitement. “You know that they proposed to marry Mary Howard to my brother-in-law, our Thomas?”

“Yes,” I say steadily. “Everyone knows that the king gave his assent.”

“But they had no intention of an honorable match. Never! They were planning to marry him and cuckold him. What d’you think of that?”