‘Before I talk stores and weapons, sir. There is a matter …’

‘What’s gone wrong now?’

The Duke was pouring a cup of wine, holding it out to John, but instead of taking it, John stretched out his hand to me and I placed mine there.

‘I love your daughter, sir. And she loves me. We have consummated our love and she is carrying my child. It is my wish to wed her, so that this child comes into the world with all the advantages of legitimacy as my heir. We need your blessing, and Elizabeth needs an annulment.’

There it was, stated in as short a time as it took to breathe in and out.

The room shimmered into stunned silence that could be felt on the ear. Constanza looked up, her needlework abandoned in her lap. Philippa had anxiety writ large on her face. My father looked baffled at a piece of news he could never have envisaged, then astounded. Finally bright with anger. His gaze moved from John to me and back again. With a brusque gesture, he drank the contents of the cup, placing the vessel at his side with a careful exactitude. To me he said with similar control:

‘Is this true?’

‘Yes.’

‘How long? How long have you been lovers?’

‘Since the King pardoned John last year.’

‘I told you it must not be.’

‘I know, sir.’ Bearing John’s warning in mind, I kept my answers brief but regretful.

‘I did not expect such dishonesty from a daughter of mine.’

‘I did not willingly deceive, sir.’

‘And yet you did. How could you put yourself in so reprehensible a position? As for you …’ He wheeled to face John. ‘I have supported you, promoted your interests. And you repay me by seducing my daughter.’

There was a grey shade around the Duke’s mouth. This was worse than I thought. Rage was there, tight held, but for how long? The Duke of Lancaster held up to ridicule by an errant daughter. A vital alliance with Pembroke destroyed by wilful passion. I knew his anger was rightly justified, but now was not the moment to retreat if I hoped to achieve anything from this clash of wills.

‘Who is to say which man will take a woman’s eye?’ I ventured. ‘This man took mine.’

‘You are held by sacred marriage vows.’

‘I have been held by them for eight years.’ What use in dissimulation? ‘How can I be expected to remain loyal to a child in an unconsummated marriage? I love John Holland.’

‘It is a deplorable situation.’

John must have felt the trembling in my limbs for he drew me closer to his side. ‘I cannot allow Elizabeth to take all the blame.’

‘Oh, I agree. Your immorality has led my daughter to the brink of shame. Beyond the brink, by God!’

‘It was no seduction, sir. I saw it as a wooing. I love your daughter and want her for my wife. She is the greatest prize I could ever win. I am honoured that she should give herself into my keeping. I can only ask for your forgiveness, and hope that you will lend your aid in ending a marriage that is no marriage.’

No regret, no apology. I held my breath.

The Duke expelled his in a grunt of disgust. ‘It is a sacred contract, made with holy vows and not to be broken. It is an alliance that I value. Do I destroy that alliance for the sake of your misdemeanours?’ He was cold, icily furious.

‘Yes. That is what I am asking,’ replied John. ‘That you have the marriage annulled. It is not consummated. I see no difficulty. Then I will wed your daughter before there is any talk of the conception of this child.’

‘No. I will not.’

‘Please, Father …’ I had known it would be bad, but not as bad as this.

‘Be silent!’

‘It is,’ John remarked as lightly as if discussing some familiar aspect of the forthcoming campaign, ‘as I see it, the only way to eradicate the promise of malicious talk at court. And it is what I want, to protect Elizabeth’s good name. As I know you will wish also. Out of this debacle, for which I take full blame, Elizabeth is the one we must protect. I don’t like the situation, but we can come out of it without wounding her or your own reputation, sir. Allow me to do what is right by your daughter.’

Constanza and Philippa simply sat, rigidly held. I had to admire John’s silken words, the clever way he allied himself with the Duke to protect me. But would the Duke reject the alliance?

‘It is not how I would have chosen to make my claim for Elizabeth’s hand, but I want her, and I want this child.’

‘I wish it too,’ I said. The strangest way to accept a proposal of marriage, when I had done nothing but refuse for so long.

‘God in Heaven!’ The Duke flung himself into the only vacant chair in the room. ‘I could do without this.’

And I knew that this was the moment to speak out.

‘I repudiate my marriage to John Hastings,’ I said, as if I stood before a man of law. ‘I have no pleasure in a marriage that only exists in legal words.’

‘And I would wed Elizabeth, with or without your consent.’ John’s hand was firm around mine as if he would anchor my thoughts and my words. There was no room for drama here, even though for me there was one final step in the drama. ‘We are both of an age to make that decision. This child merely pre-empts the marriage vows we would have taken. The only problem is …’

‘The problem is the existence of John Hastings and all his powerful connections. You hold my hand over a blazing fire, Holland. What a shattering dilemma you’ve created between the pair of you.’ In what seemed a moment of despair, the Duke rubbed his hands over his face. ‘Do I have a choice? To give in to a situation that appals me, or have my daughter’s name dragged through the sewers by every common gossip in the land.’ Surging to his feet once more, he strode to stand with his back to the window, head and shoulders illuminated in bands of golden light that came through the narrow aperture. ‘I have been there. I know what it can do. I have felt the pain that it can bring. Do I throw my daughter to the monkish wolves, or do I undermine my integrity by breaking an alliance that has stood for all of those eight years?’

The tension in the room had built massively. We waited for his pronouncement. There was nothing more for any of us to say.

‘By God, you are irresponsible, Holland. It’s not as if you were young and thoughtless, like Henry in the first flush of youthful amours. You knew exactly what the repercussions of an illicit roll between the sheets could be. At least Mary was his wife …’

‘No,’ John said. ‘We are aware of what we have done.’ His demeanour was as cool as the Duke’s was hot. Only I was aware of the underlying tensions for my fingers were being squeezed unmercifully, my rings digging deep. It was no small matter to challenge the Duke of Lancaster against his will.

The Duke prowled. Still we waited, the direction of my future life hanging in the balance of his decision. I glanced at John, but thought there was nothing more he could do, and this was assuredly not the moment for any intervention from me.

But then, with a little turn of his head, John smiled at me, the slightest curve of his lips.

‘Perhaps there is an advantage in this union, sir. I am not entirely without influence,’ John said evenly. ‘My marriage to Elizabeth can only consolidate your relationship with the King. Perhaps together we can hold Richard to his true destiny.’

Clever. Superbly cunning, as well as politically astute. I should have known that John would have his full armoury manifest in making his bid for my hand. It was a clever point, cleverly made, and brought the Duke to stand before us.

‘Can anyone hold Richard to his destiny? I doubt it.’

John nodded. ‘It may be that we will fail, but we can at least try. Or I can, with your daughter at my side. You, sir, will be wearing the coronet of Castile. But when Elizabeth and I eventually return to England, it may be that we can influence an older and wiser Richard into the path of good governance.’

I saw my father consider this. I saw the moment of acceptance in his eyes, as I saw his acknowledgement of what John had done. Two resourceful men, each appreciative of the other.

‘There’s merit in what you say. So we need an annulment.’ He grimaced, the lines on his face harsh, but the white fury had faded. ‘You have a way with words, and much as I resent this debacle you’ve landed at my feet, I must see the sense of what you say. God damn you, John!’ Inhaling sharply he rubbed his fist over his jaw as if he could smooth out the tension. ‘All I have to do is to explain to the Pembroke connections that my daughter is not the sanctified vessel I, or they, had thought her to be. They’ll not like it, but it can be done. There will be a price to pay but if I am prepared to pay it …’

How typical of my father. To cover the most difficult ground as fast and as easily as possible.

‘As soon as the annulment is secure, you will wed,’ he continued. ‘Before we sail.’

There. It was done. Relief flooded through me. But not quite. Not quite yet. The future might still not be at all to my liking.

‘And what of me?’ I asked in parody of tremulous anxiety.

‘Your reputation will be restored, Elizabeth. You will be wed to this man and the child will be Holland’s son, without question. Is that not what you want?’

‘But John will have sailed for Portugal. What of me then?’

‘Return to Kenilworth until the child is born,’ my father said dryly. ‘You will be safe and comfortable with every nursemaid in the place at your beck and call.’

I looked at John, all solemn compliance in the face of my new betrothed. ‘Very well. I will do that of course. I will raise this child alone. I will tell it how brave its father is, fighting in a just war, and unable to return to be with us. And one day, God willing, we will be reunited …’