I picked up Danny, who came to me eagerly with his beaming smile, but saying nothing, and made my way down the great stairs to the hall. The household was assembled, lined up as if they were an army for inspection, Sir John Philips and his lady at the head. My lord stood illuminated in the doorway, his broad shoulders brushing the doorframe, his smile confident.

As always his sheer glamour amazed me. The years of imprisonment had scarred him with nothing worse than a deep groove on either side of his mouth and a hardness at the back of his eyes. He looked like a man who had taken a beating and learned to live with the knowledge of defeat. Apart from that shadow, he was the same young man whom I had seen walking with an angel in Fleet Street five years ago. His hair was still dark and thick and curling, his look still challenging and bright, his mouth ready to grin, and his whole bearing like that of the prince he might have been.

“I’m very glad to be with you,” he said to them all. “And I thank you all for the good service you have done to me and mine while I have been away.” He paused. “You will be anxious for news of the queen,” he said. He glanced up the stairs and saw me dressed as a woman, for the first time ever. His amazed stare took in the cut-down gown which I had sewn with the help of Mrs. Oddingsell, my dark hair smoothed back under my hood, the dark-headed child on my hip. Comically, he looked and then looked again at the sight of me, recognized me despite the gown, and then shook a baffled head; but continued his speech.

“The queen is in her confinement chamber and expecting to give birth to a son. The king will return to England when the baby is born; in the meantime he is protecting the borders of his Spanish lands in the Low Countries, and has sworn to retake Calais for England. The Princess Elizabeth has visited her sister and wished her well. The princess is in good health, good spirits and great beauty, praise God. She has told the queen that she will not marry any Spanish prince, nor anyone of the king’s choosing. She will remain a bride of England.”

I thought it an odd way to give news of the queen, but the servants were glad to hear it and there was a murmur of interest at the princess’s name. Here, as in the rest of the country, the mood against the queen was very strong. Losing Calais was blamed on her, since she had taken us into war with the French against the tradition of her family, and against the advice of her council. They blamed her for the hunger in the country and for the bad weather, they blamed her for not having a child earlier, they blamed her for the deaths of the heretics.

A healthy son was the only thing that would redeem her in their eyes, and some of them did not want even him. Some of them, perhaps most of them now, would have her die childless and the crown go straight to the Princess Elizabeth – another woman, and though they were sick of queens, this was a good Protestant princess and one who had already refused to marry a Spanish prince and who now swore that she had no inclination to marry at all.

There was a little murmur at the news and they began to disperse. Robert shook John Philips warmly by the hand, kissed Lady Philips on her cheek and then turned to me.

“Hannah? Is that really you?”

I came down the stairs slowly, conscious of his wife behind him, still standing in the doorway.

“My lord,” I said. I reached the bottom step and dropped him a curtsey.

“I would never have known you,” he said incredulously. “You are more than a girl, Hannah. You are a woman grown, and out of your breeches at last! Did you have to learn how to walk all over again? Show me your shoes! Go on! Are you in high heels? And a babe in your arms? This is a transformation!”

I smiled but I could feel Amy’s eyes boring into me. “This is my son,” I said. “I thank you for saving us from Calais.”

His face clouded over for a moment. “I wish I could have saved them all.”

“Have you any news from the town?” I asked him. “My husband and his family may still be there. Did you send my letter onward?”

He shook his head. “I gave it to my pageboy and told him to give it to a fisherman who goes out deep into the French seas, and asked him to pass it to a French ship if he met with one, but I could do no more for you. We have heard nothing of the men who were captured. We have not even begun peace proposals. King Philip will keep us at war with France for as long as he can, and the queen is in no position to argue. There will be some exchange of prisoners, and men sent home, but God knows when.” He shook his head as if to dislodge the memories of the fall of the infallible castle. “You know, I have never seen you in a gown before. You are transformed!”

I tried to laugh but I could see Amy coming to claim her husband.

“You will want to wash and change out of your riding clothes,” she said firmly.

Robert bowed to her.

“There is hot water in your bedchamber,” she said.

“Then I’ll go up.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And someone must show Dee where he is to lodge.” I shrank back, but my lord did not notice. He called out: “Here, John – look at who we have here!”

John Dee came forward and I saw that he was more changed than Robert. His hair was graying at the temples, his eyes were dark with fatigue. But his air of confidence and his inner peace were as strong as ever.

“Who is this lady?” he asked.

“I am Hannah Carpenter, Mr. Dee,” I said guardedly. I did not know whether he was going to acknowledge that we had last met in the most terrible place in England when I was on trial for my life and he was my judge. “I was Hannah Green. The queen’s fool.”

He looked quickly at me again and then a slow sweet smile spread from his eyes to his lips. “Ah, Hannah, I would not have known you in your gown.”

“And he is Dr. Dee now,” my lord said casually. “Bishop Bonner’s chaplain.”

“Oh,” I said guardedly.

“And is this your son?” John Dee asked.

“Yes. This is Daniel Carpenter,” I said proudly, and John Dee reached forward and touched my little boy’s fingers with his own. Comically, Danny turned his head away and pressed his face into my shoulder.

“How old is he?”

“Nearly two.”

“And his father?”

I frowned. “I parted from my husband at Calais, I don’t know if he is safe,” I said.

“You have no… sense of him?” John Dee asked me, his voice low.

I shook my head.

“Dr. Dee, Hannah will show you to your chamber,” Amy’s voice broke in abruptly, speaking of me as if I were her servant.

I led the way up the stairs to one of the small bedchambers on the first floor, John Dee following me. Lord Robert sprang up the stairs two at a time behind us, we heard the door bang as he went into his room.

I had barely showed John Dee where he was to sleep, the cupboard where he could put his clothes, and poured hot water for him to wash, when the chamber door opened and Lord Robert came in.

“Hannah, don’t go,” he said. “I want to hear your news.”

“I have none,” I said coolly. “I have been here, as you know, all this long while, with your wife, doing nothing.”

He gave a short laugh. “Have you been bored, Mistress Boy? It cannot be worse than married life, surely?”

I smiled. I was not going to tell Lord Robert that I had parted from my husband within a year of our marriage.

“And have you kept your gift?” John Dee asked quietly. “I always thought that the angels would only come to a virgin.”

I thought for a moment, I could not forget that the last time I had seen him he had been advising Bishop Bonner. I remembered the woman who had cupped her torn fingers in her lap. I remembered the smell of urine in the little room and the wet warmth in my breeches, and my shame. “I don’t know, sir,” I said, my voice very small.

Robert Dudley heard the constraint in my tone and looked quickly from me to his friend. “How now?” he asked sharply. “What’s this?”