‘Yes. Thank you,’ I added. I disapproved of the girl’s forwardness, but she had gone to trouble for us. I determined to make myself pleasant, though I did not feel much like it. ‘We are hungry,’ I said. ‘You must be, too. No doubt the Queen’s servants have their own dining place.’

‘Oh no, sir,’ Tamasin said. ‘We have to eat in the common hall too.’

‘With the rabble,’ Mistress Marlin added in her sharp voice. ‘Thank the Lord the Queen’s dining quarters will be set up tomorrow, we can eat in peace.’ She gave Barak a sour look. ‘Tonight I thought I would accompany Tamasin, she should not be dining alone.’

I could think of nothing to say to that, so I bowed for the women to precede us inside. We mounted a wide staircase, the cornices ornamented with beautifully carved angels. Waiters were running up and down the stairs bearing trays and leather pitchers of wine. We entered the monks’ old refectory. Rows of trestle tables were set out, packed together so closely there was scarcely enough room for the waiters to pass. I estimated there were places for two hundred people. Most seats were occupied by tired-looking workmen and carpenters. I saw the clerks sitting together in a little group some distance off. At the next table a little group of women sat together. One of them looked at Mistress Marlin, then nudged her fellows. They looked at her and giggled. Jennet Marlin’s face reddened. I felt for her.

A man in the black robe of an usher bustled over to us. We handed him our dockets and he led us to a table with four vacant spaces. I was glad it was some distance away from those clerks. Mistress Marlin wrinkled her nose as we sat down, for the tablecloth and napkins were stained. A waiter dumped down a flagon of ale and hurried off. I poured for the others.

‘At least the bowls and cups at this table are pewter,’ Mistress Marlin said. Glancing round, I saw the carpenters were drinking from wooden cups.

‘So some of the proprieties are being observed,’ I said. Another waiter appeared, bearing a big bowl of pottage. He set it down hurriedly, spilling a little on the cloth. Mistress Marlin sighed, but Tamasin laughed, passing the bowl down to her.

‘We must bear with it, mistress,’ she said, and to my surprise Jennet Marlin gave her a quick, affectionate smile.

‘How came you to be in the Queen’s service?’ Barak asked Tamasin when we were all served.

‘My mother served in the royal kitchens before me. I have been there two years, working for the Queen’s confectioner. They asked me to accompany the Progress for my experience with sweetmeats,’ she added proudly. ‘I was sent ahead with Lady Rochford and Mistress Marlin to help prepare for the Queen and her household, and ensure she may have the pretty comfits she likes so much. Expensive doucets of marzipan and almonds and ginger.’

I turned to Jennet Marlin. ‘And you, mistress, have you served Lady Rochford long?’

She gave me her haughty look. ‘No, sir. I served Lady Edgecombe when the Lady Anne of Cleves was Queen. I moved to Lady Rochford’s service last summer.’

‘And you are from the north?’

‘Originally I come from Ripon. But I was sent to court at sixteen.’

‘And you have come all the way with the Progress?’

‘Yes,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Through cold and rain in July, everything more filthy than you could believe. It was so wet all the roads turned to mud. The household officials said we should return but the King and his councillors insisted the Progress must go on.’

I nodded. ‘Because its political importance is so great.’

‘Yes. Then after the weather improved the King delayed at Hatfield and Pontefract, none knew why. Then we were sent to York while the King diverted to Hull. We have been here near a week.’

‘How long is the King to stay in York?’

‘They say three days, but always there seem to be delays.’

‘It must be frustrating.’ I hesitated. ‘Do you know what the great celebration is to be, that they are all preparing for?’

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘No. There are all sorts of rumours.’ She changed the subject. ‘You are a barrister, sir?’

‘I am. At Lincoln’s Inn.’

‘My fiancé is a barrister at Gray’s Inn.’

The same as Wrenne’s nephew, I thought.

‘You will doubtless have been told,’ she continued, ‘he is in the Tower on suspicion of involvement in the conspiracy. It is a subject of great gossip.’

‘I had heard,’ I replied uncomfortably.

‘You may have met him. Bernard Locke.’ Her full mouth, which she seemed to hold perpetually in a tight line, softened a little.

‘No. I’m afraid not,’ I said. It was the second time today I had been asked if I knew a Gray’s Inn barrister.

‘He is from Ripon too, we have known each other since we were children.’ She looked at me with sudden intensity. ‘His arrest was a terrible mistake. He will be freed. Many have been arrested who were guilty of nothing. They had to cast the net wide, but they will realize Bernard is innocent and release him.’

‘Let us hope so, mistress.’ I was surprised at her discussing the matter so freely. I hoped she was right; but I knew that those suspected of political offences could languish in the Tower for years.

‘I will never abandon hope,’ she said with fierceness.

‘Your loyalty does you credit, madam.’

At that she gave me one of her contemptuous looks. ‘I owe him all.’

A waiter came up, laying a big mutton pie on the table. Barak cut it for us; as Jennet Marlin reached to take her share, I saw the hand holding her knife was trembling slightly. Despite her rudeness I could not help feeling sorry for her. If she wore her heart on her sleeve like this all the time, I could imagine the other women in the household mocking her; women can be crueller even than men.

‘I heard the Queen has been ill on the journey north,’ I said. ‘I hope she is better now.’

Again she gave that mirthless smile. ‘She had a summer cold, that was all. She made much of it, as young girls will.’

‘I am glad it is nothing worse.’

‘She got my mistress Lady Rochford fussing over her, calling her poor baby and bringing her cushions.’ She spoke with distaste. I remembered how rudely Lady Rochford had addressed her the day before. It struck me Jennet Marlin was a very angry woman. She reminded me of someone, though I could not remember whom it was.

‘There are rumours the Queen is pregnant,’ I said.

She stared at me coldly. ‘I know nothing of that. You fish for gossip, sir.’

‘I am sorry,’ I said stiffly. Mistress Marlin bent her head to her plate. Evidently she had had enough of conversation with me.

Around us the talk grew louder as the wine loosened tongues. Barak was telling Tamasin an edited tale of how he came to be my assistant. ‘Before last year I worked for Lord Cromwell. Master Shardlake also had his patronage, and when my master fell he took me on as clerk.’

‘You worked for Lord Cromwell,’ she said, her eyes wide. ‘Did you know him?’

‘Ay.’ Barak looked sad for a moment.

‘Tell me how you came to be locked in the monks’ chapterhouse,’ she said with a smile. ‘I am sure it was not mere foolishness.’

‘It was,’ Barak said. He smiled wryly. ‘I am but a wantwit, a foolish jester.’

She laughed. ‘I think you are a man of many parts.’

‘Many parts I have.’ They both laughed. Mistress Marlin gave Tamasin a severe look. I thought again, who is it she reminds me of? I worried at the matter while next to me Barak and Tamasin’s conversation grew more flirtatious. At length, Mistress Marlin stood up.

‘Tamasin, we should leave now. Lady Rochford will be finished her meal now, she may wish some task of me. And you should not walk back alone.’

‘We can accompany you back to the abbot’s house, madam,’ I offered.

‘Thank you,’ she said quickly, ‘but no. Come, Tamasin.’ Barak and I stood and bowed as the ladies left, Tamasin drawing one or two admiring glances along the tables. We sat down again.