This is exactly what I thought when I translated Bishop Fisher’s psalms from Latin to English. “What a gift to the people of England it would be!” I am almost stammering in excitement. “A prayer book in their own tongue! What a saving of souls! I should be so pleased if I were to be allowed to work on it, too!”

“And I say good morning to the queen,” Will Somers says suddenly. “Good morning to the morning queen.”

“Good morning to you, Will,” I reply. “Is this a joke?”

“It is a morning joke. And the king’s idea is the plan for this morning. After dinner you will find it quite different. This morning we send for Cranmer, tonight—heigh-ho—it will be my lord Gardiner who is the fount of all knowledge, and you will be the morning queen and quite out of your time.”

“Hush, Fool,” Henry says. “What do you think, Kateryn?”

Despite Will’s warning, I cannot resist speaking. “I think it is an opportunity to write something both true and beautiful,” I say enthusiastically. “And something that is beautifully written must lead people to God.”

“But it cannot be ornamental,” Henry insists. “It cannot be a false god. It has to be a true translation from the Latin, not a poem grafted on it.”

“It must be the Word,” I say. “The Lord spoke in simple language to simple people. Our church must do the same. But I think there is great beauty in simple language.”

“Why don’t you write some new prayers yourself?” Henry asks suddenly. “Write in your own hand?”

For a moment I wonder if he knows of my book of translated psalms published without a name on the cover. I wonder if his spies have told him that I have already translated prayers and discussed them with the archbishop. I stammer. “No, no, I could not presume...”

But he is sincere in his interest. “I know that Cranmer thinks highly of you. Why not write some original prayers? And why don’t you translate some prayers from the Latin Mass and show your version to him? Bring one to me to read. And Princess Mary works with you, doesn’t she? And Elizabeth?”

“With her tutor,” I say cautiously. “As part of Elizabeth’s study, with her cousin Jane Grey.”

“I believe that women should study,” he says kindly. “It is not part of the duty of woman to remain ignorant. And you have a learned and scholarly husband; there is no chance of you outpacing me, after all!” He laughs at the thought of it and I laugh with him.

I don’t even look at the Fool, though I know he is listening for my reply. “Whatever you think best, my lord,” I say levelly. “I should enjoy to do the work and it would be an education for the princesses also. But you will judge how far it should go.”