‘Because he always thinks he can do better,’ John exclaimed despairingly. ‘He always thinks he can do a little more by a grand gesture, a great chance. My father saw him ride out to Spain with the Duke of Buckingham when he was a young prince, and wild and reckless. He never learned the line between taking a risk and ripe folly. No-one ever taught him to take care. He likes the masque – the style and the action. He’s never seen that it is all pretend. That real life isn’t like that.’

Hester sank back in her chair and glanced down the table at her stepson. Johnnie was looking mutinous. She put out a hand to warn him to hold his silence, but the boy burst out:

‘It’s the greatest of things! Don’t you see? He’ll be safe in France by now, and they can beg his pardon from there! The queen will have an army ready for him to command, Prince Rupert will take the cavalry again. They said that he was defeated but he was not!’

John turned a dark look on his son. ‘You’re right about only one thing,’ he said sombrely. ‘He’s never defeated.’

‘That’s the wonderful thing about him!’

John shook his head. ‘It’s the worst.’

Alexander stayed for breakfast and then agreed to stay on for the rest of the week. John was restless all day and at mid-afternoon he went to find Hester.

She was in the rarities room, bringing the planting records up to date in the big garden book.

‘I can’t stay here, not knowing what’s going on,’ John said briskly. ‘I’ll go into Whitehall, see if I can hear some news.’

She put down her pen and smiled at him. ‘I knew you’d have to go,’ she said. ‘Make sure you come home, don’t be caught up in whatever is going on there.’

He paused in the doorway. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘Oh! For what?’

‘For letting me go without badgering me with a dozen questions, without warning me a dozen times.’

She smiled but it did not reach her eyes. ‘Since you would go whether I give you leave or no, I might as well give you leave,’ she said.

‘That’s true enough!’ John said lightly and went from the room.

Whitehall was in a frenzy of gossip and speculation. John went into a tavern where he might find an acquaintance, bought a mug of ale and looked around for a face he knew. At a nearby table were a group of Africa merchants.

‘Mr Hobhouse! Any news? I have come up from Lambeth especially and all I can get is what I know already.’

‘You know that he’s gone to the Isle of Wight?’

John recoiled. ‘What?’

‘Carisbrooke Castle. He’s set himself up in Carisbrooke Castle.’

‘But why? Why would he?’