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But . . .’ Another silence, then he asked abruptly, ‘Master Plummer has explained the matter to you?’
    â€˜More or less, my lord. He didn’t really have to. My–my instructions made everything plain to me. By one of those odd coincidences, I had been reminded of your lady mother’s . . . er . . .’
    â€˜Outburst? At the time of Edward’s marriage?’
    â€˜Yes, as Your Grace says. Outburst. Strangely enough, I heard reference made to it only an hour or so ago, so that when I read what you had written –’ I tapped the pouch at my belt – ‘I . . . well, I understood.’
    A servant, who must have entered the room unobserved by me, slid out of the shadows and poured wine from the flask into the two goblets, presenting one to the duke on bended knee and handing me the other with much less ceremony. Indeed, to my annoyance, a little of the wine slopped on to my sleeve. I glared and received a smirk in return. Duke Richard, who had gone back to staring at the fire, waved a hand in dismissal. The man made himself scarce.
    â€˜So, Roger!’ As the latch clicked, my royal host returned his gaze to me. ‘You think me capable of treason?’
    I swallowed some wine to give myself courage and leaned forward. ‘My lord,’ I said desperately, ‘if you believe the Duchess of York to have been telling the truth all those years past, why do you not ask her to confirm or deny it now?’
    He nodded. ‘It would seem the obvious course, I agree. But a great deal has happened in my mother’s life over the past eighteen years: eight grandchildren – I am referring here only to the offspring of the king and queen, you understand – and her strong affection for the eldest of them, my niece, Elizabeth. Also, I suspect that the duchess’s deepening religious experience would inhibit her from repeating the accusation. Furthermore –’ he smiled wryly – ‘it’s no easy matter to ask your mother if she was unfaithful to your father.’
    â€˜I don’t see that,’ I argued, the wine making me bold. ‘She has only to say, “No, I was so angry at the time that I made it up. Of course it isn’t true.”’
    Duke Richard set down his half-empty goblet. ‘But how would I know if she is telling the truth now?’ he asked quietly. ‘As I’ve said, nearly two decades have gone by. Circumstances have altered. And remember, she didn’t implement her threat eighteen years ago when her rage was white-hot.’
    The fire leaped and crackled. I leaned even closer, resting my elbows on my knees. ‘But what if, my lord, when you ask her, your lady mother admits that what she avowed back then was in fact true? You would have your answer.’ And I should be spared a fool’s errand to France, I thought.
    The duke gave a short laugh as though he knew what I was thinking. ‘To set your mind at rest, Roger, I have come as close as a dutiful son dare to begging her for confirmation of her words.’
    â€˜And Her Grace has denied them?’
    He sighed. ‘If only she had. No, my mother remains evasive, easily turning aside a question that is not quite a question and which she is confident I shall never ask openly or force her to answer unequivocally.’ He smiled conspiratorially, inviting me to share his exasperation. ‘You know how women enjoy mystifying us men, not wishing to say yea or nay but not wanting to let us off the hook that easily, either. They like to keep us in suspense. It makes them more interesting.’ He added hastily, ‘I mean no disrespect to my mother. I owe her a son’s love and obedience, which she will always have until the day she dies. It’s just that she’s . . . a woman!’
    From all this, I gathered that the duke had not asked the duchess for a direct answer to a direct question,