Even when we had been children, I had recognized that Thomas was strong-minded, a leader. My parents, his guardians, admired him for it. He and I were very alike but what was considered a strength in a young man would never have been tolerated in a girl, of course, for we were expected to be compliant and my determined character was viewed as unfeminine. So whilst I was constantly reproved, Thomas was encouraged. It had made me resent him.

Thomas wore his Catholicism openly. Whilst William and I might take the mass in secret or even provide shelter for an itinerant priest, Thomas would go much further, dancing on the thin line between recusancy and rebellion. He saw it as a great game, I knew; he had been fined enormous amounts of money and imprisoned for his beliefs, yet he deliberately seemed to want to draw attention to himself. Some of his correspondents were amongst the queen’s own courtiers and ministers, the highest in the land.

“I had such high hopes for Robert,” Thomas said, “but clearly they run counter to yours.”

“If your hopes were to mold Robert in your image then I am glad you are disappointed,” I said. I felt angered that Thomas should judge us. “Would you have Robert imprisoned and fined as you have been?” I demanded. “As William has been? Or perhaps you see it as a noble end to be executed for treason like Edward Arden or our cousin Francis?” My voice had risen; I fought back my indignation as I did not wish our conversation to draw attention. “Times have changed, Thomas,” I said in a fierce whisper. “We all know that Protestantism is the future. I want better than a half-life under constant suspicion for my children.”

Thomas put a soothing hand on my arm. “You know that my only desire is for men to act according to their own conscience,” he said. “I advocate no more than that.”

This I doubted. What Thomas really meant, I was sure, was that he wanted all men to realize that they should return to the true faith, and none more so than Robert. He was Robert’s godfather as well as his uncle. Perhaps he genuinely believed that he had failed in his spiritual duty.

“Well—” I shook off his hand and dusted my sleeve “—I can assure you that Robert is acting according to his own inclination with this marriage. Never more so.”

Robert was in fact kissing his new wife that very moment, with his Tresham cousins and various other younger members of the bridal party in keen encouragement. Someone gave a whoop and then the whole circle of them was laughing and cheering, raising a racket that was out of keeping in a churchyard yet full of such irrepressible high spirits that even Thomas smiled, albeit ruefully.

“Ah,” he said, “the fierce passions of youth.” He looked at me, his dark gaze suddenly intent. “Do you remember, Nan, when we were young and felt the same way?”