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so much as a penny to your name or a home to go to. I was convinced then that that would be the end of you. But alas I was wrong. Times change, Anne is gone, Jane is queen, and now here you are, come to court to secure a place in Her Majesty’s household. If that is indeed your plan my lady , you are going to be very sadly disappointed. There is no place for you with Her Majesty and never will be, and do not think for one moment that you can call upon the assistance of your friend Lord Cromwell in this matter because he cannot—”
     
    “He cannot what? Assist me to gain favour with the queen? I see no reason why he can’t, since that is precisely what he did for you,” Bridget interrupted sweetly. “I mean to say, that is how you secured your position with the queen, is it not? By enlisting the help of Lord Cromwell?” Bridget had not known for a certainty that Lady Rochford had actually gone to Cromwell for aid—she was merely making an educated guess that she had—but she could see by Lady Rochford’s expression that she had struck gold.
    “I may have written to the master secretary to plead my cause, and why ever would I not? He has helped many people who find themselves in a . . . precarious situation. I am a poor widow, and he is a friend to poor widows. Besides, had I not been a friend to him—”
     
    “Oh, yes, I quite agree, madam,” Bridget said. “You have been an excellent friend to Lord Cromwell, in the cause of getting rid of your husband and sister in law. A great friend and I believe that what you say is true: he is an accommodating gentleman to his friends. At least, whilst it remains in his best interests to be so.”
    Lady Rochford bit her lip and the colour leeched from her face. She whispered, “I never thought he would go through with it! God above, nobody did! Yes, I realised they would be disgraced, Anne most of all, and then I thought she would be sent away somewhere just like Queen Katherine was, not . . .” Lady Rochford’s voice trailed off, and her eyes welled up with tears. Her distress seemed real, and Bridget could feel herself weakening towards her, a woman she disliked but who God knew was much to be pitied in so many ways, but even so she steeled herself against the emotion. Pitiable or not, she could not allow Lady Rochford to get away with the lie she had just uttered.
     
    Bridget moved closer to her and said, “Spare me the act madam. You may have convinced yourself that you did not know what Anne’s fate would be, what your husband’s fate would be but we both know that is not true. You told tales, you spread rumours, you acted the informer to Cromwell in the full knowledge that he would use your words against Queen Anne and probably against Lord Rochford, too. You would have to have been delusional not to have known that it was all going to end on the scaffold for them, for all of them. And so it did. Maybe you now regret it, maybe their fate keeps you awake at night, as it does me, but do not think to convince me madam, with tears in your eyes, that you did not know that the king would kill them. You knew full well.”
     
    The two women regarded each other, and a look of desolation passed across Lady Rochford’s ashen visage. After a moment, she shook it off and raised herself up to her full height. “I seek to convince you of nothing. Believe what you will, Lady de Brett. I do not care either way. Why should I? You are a person of no account. I, on the other hand, am a member of the queen’s household and high in her favour. I have managed to secure that position for myself, using whatever means were available to me, as a woman always must. You, meanwhile, have secured your new-found standing in the world by landing a husband. I suppose I should congratulate you for that, although,” she glanced across at Sir Richard, who was still engaged in lively conversation with the king and Cromwell, “he is rather old, isn’t he? He must have seen over fifty