I should have expected it. I should have known that that is exactly how he would announce himself into my hall. Had I expected him to rant? To demand an answer as soon as his foot struck my threshold? That was not John of Lancaster’s way.

He arrived in the middle of a summer rainstorm that seemed to have soaked him to the bone, yet he gave no recognition of discomfort as he strode into my hall followed by two squires and a page, a body-servant and Symkin Simeon, the steward of his lands in Lincolnshire, all impressive if damp in Lancaster livery. When did he ever travel otherwise? I felt Master Ingoldsby stir, saw his eyes widen at the extent of the full Lancaster entourage that faced us, and that was occupying our courtyard, presenting a severe challenge to our kitchen and our stables.

Entirely unaware of the problems he would cause me, sweeping off his rain-sodden cloak, handing it brusquely to his squire, the Duke bowed to me, a magnificent chill courtesy in this man whose face was expressionless, whose spine and shoulders were rigid, while his voice was as flatly controlled as his features.

‘Lady de Swynford.’

I curtsied deeply. ‘My lord of Lancaster.’

‘I trust you are well.’

‘I am, my lord.’

He stripped off his gauntlets, thrusting them toward his page. ‘I was concerned for your safety, when I learned that you had left my service. It behoved me to discover your situation.’

The superb, lethally insolent formality of it lodged in my throat.

‘I am in good heart, my lord.’ I kept my voice high and bright. I would not be intimidated in my own home.

‘I am surprised to see you here, knowing the limitations of Kettlethorpe.’ He cast a quick glance round, before it came to rest on me again, uncomfortably bland, unnervingly smooth. ‘I take it that it was a sudden decision?’ He bared his teeth, his studied gravity compromised, as my leaking roof caused him to step to one side and brush the drops from his hair.

‘Yes, my lord. It was very sudden.’

‘And you acted on it with great rapidity.’

‘I did, my lord. Once I had informed the Duchess, there was thought to be little need for me to remain. And I apologise for the state of my roof. Perhaps if you step towards the fire…’ I gestured, pleased that my hand was firm despite the tremors hidden behind the embroidered inset of my bodice.

The Duke did not move, even when more drops spattered on the shoulder of his brigandine. ‘The state of your roof is an irrelevance and does not concern me. On the other hand the reason for your leaving my employ is a matter for my attention, Lady de Swynford. If you have cause for complaint I should know of it. I would be gratified if you would grant me some enlightenment.’

Surprising me, steadying me, a little ripple of amusement developed to diffuse my present anxieties. I was being addressed as if I were a foreign delegation from a hostile state. The Duke was known to be a master at negotiation with enemy forces. Was I now seen as an enemy force? Was this cold blast to be my punishment?

I raised my chin, prepared to take the initiative to deflect the chill.

‘Will you be staying long, my lord?’ I asked with conspicuous conciliation. ‘Do your men require refreshment?’

‘Yes. We’ve ridden far, and out of our way. On what could be a wild-goose chase if I get no sensible explanation from you. My lady,’ he added through gritted teeth.

Superb! Punishment indeed, but I would not be swayed from my role as chatelaine in my own estate. ‘Where do you go, my lord?’

‘Kenilworth. My ultimate destination would also seem to be an irrelevance.’

I swallowed another urge to laugh. Would the whole of our conversation be conducted in this style? At The Savoy I had shared his bed. At The Savoy those fine hands clenched around his sword belt had caressed my body into delight.

‘Our accommodation is limited, my lord, as you see,’ I said lightly, ‘if you wish to remain here rather than be benighted. The stables are the best we can offer to your soldiery, and this space for your squire and servants and Master Symeon if they can withstand the drips…’

Where we would house the Duke I had no idea. In my chamber, I supposed, while I had a bed set up with Agnes. The Duke was not here in the manner of a lover.

‘My thanks. We have slept in worse places on campaign,’ he responded, with a nod to his squire who bowed himself out to begin preparations.

‘I am pleased to know that my home offers more than a bivouac in Aquitaine, my lord.’ I could not resist my tart response.

‘As am I, my lady, in the circumstances. But not much better.’

He swept the sheen of drops from his sleeve with an abrupt movement. And as he once again side-stepped a growing puddle, I saw the flash of light in his eye. This superb control, employing this impeccable, heart-wrenching courtesy to mask what I knew to be heated fury, would not hold fast for much longer. It would be a blow to his pride that his mistress had left him without a word, and the Duke had more pride than any man I knew. The gems on his hands refracted the light as he clenched and stretched his fingers.

‘I will make arrangements immediately, my lord.’ I nodded to my steward who shuffled out in his habitual gloom, taking my servant with him. ‘Bring wine to my parlour, Master Ingoldsby. If you would care to accompany me, my lord…?’ I would have to face him, and sooner would be better than later.

The Duke did not stir. Instead, he inhaled sharply.

‘What in God’s name are you doing?’

His voice echoed dully off the damp walls from which pieces of mortar showered down.

‘I have come to stay here at Kettlethorpe—for a little while,’ I responded carefully.

‘As I am aware. Before God, Katherine, what sort of game are you playing here?’

‘I could not tell you of my intentions. You were not there.’

‘I know I was not. So do you—and the reason for it.’ And now the anger erupted, spilling over both of us. ‘The pressure in France is building like a pot about to boil over to scald us all. Aquitaine is under attack. So is Brittany. My brother Edward’s not fit to lead an army. The Castile problem’s a running sore with no hope of remedying it in the near future, no matter what Constanza says.’ He took a stride forward, then with a snarl thought better of it as the drips pattered down on him. ‘I’ve just promised my father the King that I will serve overseas for a year and what do I find when I get to Hertford? Constanza in a mood of frenzied religious observance to make herself fit to bear a son and you not there to soothe her.’

So he was annoyed merely because I was not in attendance on frenzied Constanza. I did not believe that for one moment. ‘That is so,’ I replied equably. ‘I am sure that my sister is quite capable of reassuring the Duchess.’

‘You’ve resigned your position, so I am told. You did not see fit to tell me yourself.’

I folded my hands quietly at my waist. One of us must preserve some modicum of composure. I merely inclined my head in agreement.

‘What is this? Are you dissatisfied? Do I not treat you well? Are my gifts insufficient? Do I not show you due regard, Katherine?’

‘You show me every consideration, my lord.’

Now he moved, stalking the length of the hall and back again, exhaling loudly in disgust as he splashed through yet another puddle. Until he spun to challenge me.

‘I expect you to be there when I return. Wherever my household resides, I expect you to be there.’

The raw authority in his expectations heated my blood at once.

‘I chose not to be there. I chose to be here.’

‘Why?’ His beautiful voice snapped in anger like the breaking of a bough in a winter storm. Simply his presence in my hall, dominating it, was enough to make my heart shake. There he stood, in wool and leather for peacetime travelling, his heraldic badge emblazoned on his breast beneath the intricate chain of livery, his features alive with temper, as imposing and handsome as I had ever seen him. ‘What, in God’s name—’

‘I could not stay in the Duchess’s household,’ I broke in.

‘Why not? I don’t believe you lack the courage. You were never in any doubt as to the difficulties it would present.’

‘Yes, I knew,’ I admitted.

But perhaps I had not known. Perhaps I had not truly envisaged the pleasure and the pain, the light and the dark of it. I could not tell him how jealousy, thickly laced with guilt, had struck most inopportunely, on seeing his lovely wife holding his daughter, crowned with golden light and with such unexpected maternal love on her face. Now I knew exactly what it would mean for me, the mistress, to live day after day, with the unsuspecting wife, but I could not explain. Nor could I tell him, in this heated atmosphere, what I knew I must.

I considered making a bald statement of it.

‘My lord, I have to tell you…’

In this mood I could not predict his response. Was I afraid? I think I was.

Guile, I thought. A touch of very female guile will do it.

‘Have you nothing to say?’ Whirling round from stirring a sulky log on the fire with his boot, which did nothing to improve the clammy atmosphere, he faced me. Last time we met, being alone at The Savoy, he had swept me into his arms, off my feet, drugging me with his kisses. Now I could barely see his features in the shadows of my hall, and the last thing he wanted to do was sweep me off my feet. ‘Answer me, Katherine. Has living in this godforsaken place for longer than a week robbed you of your usual wits?’

I realised that I had been standing there with my guileful plans circling in my mind.

‘Come.’ I raised my hand in invitation. ‘Come to my chapel and pray with me, if you will.’ As an invitation it was abrupt.