‘No lawyer in York is more respected. But he is taking on no new work, I hear. Perhaps he is retiring at last.’

‘He is ripe in years,’ I answered evasively.

‘And has begun to look his age recently.’

I did not reply, and Tankerd smiled uncertainly. ‘Well, I must be off. The council has been asked to press the Ainsty farms to deliver all their produce to St Mary’s, even the seed corn. But they are offering a good price. It looks like it may be a while before the Scotch King comes. Well, good day.’ He paused a moment, then said quietly, ‘What the King said to you was shameful, sir. I am not the only one who thinks so.’

I looked up in surprise. ‘Thank you.’ I paused. ‘They do not all laugh, then, at the Guildhall?’

‘By no means, sir. It was a cruel jest, it has not improved the King’s reputation.’

‘Thank you, Brother Tankerd. That is good to know.’

He bowed and left us. I sat watching him go.

Barak nudged me. ‘Here they come.’ I looked up to where Mistress Marlin and Tamasin were walking slowly up the street. Behind them an armed servant carried a large box, full of sewing materials no doubt.

‘Good morning!’ I called.

The sun was behind us, and Jennet Marlin squinted frowningly for a moment before recognizing us. She hesitated.

‘May we rest here a moment, mistress?’ Tamasin asked sweetly. ‘I have been standing all morning, I would be glad to sit down.’ She certainly had skills in diplomacy.

Mistress Marlin looked at us, perhaps guessing this meeting was no accident. She hesitated, then nodded. ‘Yes. Let us rest a few minutes.’

I stood up and bowed her to sit there.

‘There is not room for all of us,’ Tamasin said. ‘Come, Master Barak, let us sit under that tree. I will show you the fine stuff we have bought.’

‘Eh? Oh, yes.’ Barak followed Tamasin as she led the way to a secluded spot under an oak. I was left with Jennet Marlin. The servant went and sat down on the grass at a respectful distance. I smiled at her uncertainly. ‘Well, Mistress Marlin. How do you fare?’ She looked tired and preoccupied, her large eyes unhappy. Untidy brown curls had escaped from her hood and she brushed them from her forehead. ‘Have you any news from London?’

‘No. And still no word of when we may leave this wretched city.’

‘The Recorder says they are buying up still more provisions.’

‘The men will be getting restless in camp, breaking out at night as they did at Pontefract.’ She sighed deeply. ‘By our Lady, I wish I had never been persuaded to come on this enterprise.’ She looked at me seriously. ‘Bernard, my fiancé, was supposed to accompany us.’ She hesitated. ‘In fact, he was to have the job you have now. Working on the petitions.’

‘Ah. I did not know.’

‘First Bernard was arrested, then his first replacement died. Yours is an unlucky post.’

No wonder she had been so hostile at first. She seemed to have accepted me now, though, even to see me as a confidant. That pleased me; in an odd way it was as though little Suzanne and I had made friends again. I thought, I must stop seeing people as substitutes. Mistress Marlin for Suzanne, Giles Wrenne for my father.

‘It was one of his friends persuaded me to come away,’ she said. ‘Another lawyer of Lincoln’s Inn. When Bernard was taken to the Tower in April I visited him every day. But his friends said I might attract suspicion to myself, it might be better if I came away on the Progress. And Lady Rochford was very insistent. She is used to me dealing with her clothes for her.’

‘I can see it must have been hard leaving London.’

‘If there are any developments, I have leave to return to London. But nothing has happened for almost three months. Forgive me, sir,’ she said suddenly, ‘I must bore you with my talk.’

‘No, no. I sympathize, madam.’ I looked at her. ‘How does your fiancé fare in the Tower? His friends will visit him?’

She twisted at her engagement ring. ‘Yes, they bring him food and clothes, and he has a cell that is less miserable than most, above ground. We had to pay the gaolers well for that,’ she added bitterly.

‘I can imagine.’

‘And yet I fear for his health in there. Winter draws near.’

‘Perhaps he will be freed ere winter.’

She only sighed.

‘His friends,’ I asked. ‘They are all from Gray’s Inn?’

She looked at me sharply then. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I wondered if he might know the nephew of a friend of mine. Another Gray’s Inn lawyer from the north.’ I told her of Giles’s determination to find his nephew, my offer to help.

She considered. ‘ ’Tis true the northern lawyers at Gray’s Inn tend to stick together. Most of them are traditionalists in religion.’

‘I believe this man is. Martin Dakin.’

‘I do not know the name.’

‘Have any other Gray’s Inn lawyers been arrested? There was suspicion of them in 1536.’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘That is reassuring. Thank you. What chambers did your fiancé practise in at Lincoln’s Inn?’

‘Not did, sir, does. He will be free. The name of his chambers is Garden Court.’

‘I am sorry. Thank you.’

She was silent a moment, then turned those large sorrowful eyes on me again. ‘Do you know what my Bernard is accused of?’

‘No, mistress.’

Her look was penetrating. ‘I thought you might have heard, since it is common gossip.’

‘No.’

‘Of knowing two Yorkshire gentlemen who were part of the conspiracy. But they were both old friends, of course he knew them.’

‘Did they say he was involved?’

‘No, though they were tortured. They are dead now, their remains were on the Fulford Gate till it was cleaned up for the King.’ She clenched her hands into tight little fists in her lap.

‘Then there is no evidence.’

She looked at me. ‘There was a letter that one of them sent to Bernard at Gray’s Inn, at the end of last year. They say it speaks of better times coming this year. But Bernard told me it meant only hope for a better harvest after last year’s drought.’

‘If that is all, it seems paltry.’

‘It takes little to condemn a man these days. Especially if he is fond of the old ways in religion. Oh, he is no papist, far from it, and I believe I was persuading him of the truth of Bible religion – so far as any woman can influence a man. But he was known as a traditionalist and that is enough to condemn him. If poison is whispered in the right ears.’ She looked at me, her eyes sharp and focused now.

‘Whose ears?’ I sensed she had wanted me to ask.

‘Bernard bought the land of a small dissolved abbey up here,’ she said. ‘It was next to his family lands.’ Her mouth set tight and hard again. ‘But a certain other family, whose lands it abuts on the other side, wanted it for themselves. It would suit their purposes if he were attainted for treason. So that his lands would go to the King, and could be bought cheap.’ She paused. ‘The family’s name is Maleverer.’

I remembered the look of hatred she had cast at him at King’s Manor when Tamasin was brought in for questioning.

‘By heaven,’ she said. ‘He is hungry for land.’

‘I know he is bidding for some of Robert Aske’s estates and – and I believe he also seeks a property in London.’

‘It is because he is a bastard.’ Jennet Marlin almost spat the word. ‘He believes if he can get enough land he can outrun it.’ She looked at me. ‘People will do any evil thing for money these days, there was never so much greed in the land.’

‘There I agree with you, mistress.’

‘But Maleverer will not win.’ She clenched her fists more tightly. ‘Bernard and I are destined to be together. It is meant.’ She spoke quietly. ‘People laugh at me, say I am determined to marry before I am too old -’

‘Mistress,’ I murmured, embarrassed at her frankness, but she continued.

‘They do not understand what there is between Bernard and me. He was my childhood friend. My parents died when I was small and I was brought up in his household. He was three years older, he was father and brother to me.’ She was silent a moment, then looked at me again. ‘Tell me, sir, do you believe two people can be destined to be together, that God may set their path before they are born?’