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Order, its badge pinned prominently to the wide sash draped over her shoulder, people smiling, women curtseying to her, men congratulating her and saying how lovely she looked. She had to concentrate hard to bring herself back to the present and listen to what the King was saying.
    ‘...let us call for some wine to celebrate my decision. I know, my Lord Uncle, that you are partial to a glass of Burgundy wine from time to time.’
    The next few minutes passed in a daze for Eleanor. She would have liked to sit for a moment while she came to terms with what she had just been told, but the King and the Duke remained standing, so she contented herself with another winning smile. King Henry’s announcement today was the absolute endorsement of her position as Humphrey’s wife and, until the King himself was married, she was indisputably the first lady in the land. If only she could give her husband a child, she would be unassailable.
    ***
    T he decision to join the cattle drove had been made instinctively, but the nearer they drew to London, the more pleased Jenna felt that she had obeyed that instinct. It felt right and she seemed to have found a genuine, dependable friend in Robin Fairweather.
    Conversation between them was sporadic as they walked side by side behind the herd with Mallow, Robin’s dog, at their heels. Leading his horse by the bridle, Robin was keeping an eye open for any bullock that might decide to loiter and graze the grass verge. If he spotted one, he would thrust the horse’s bridle into Jenna’s hand while he and Mallow went after the miscreant to round it up, Robin smacking its rump with his withy stick to persuade it to change its mind.
    The air was filled with the barking of dogs, the shouts of the men, the lowing and blowing of animals disinclined to move any faster and the clopping of their metal-shod hooves on the dry, stony clay of the drove road. Flanking the long line of cattle, keeping them on track, a dozen men on horseback rode back and forth, calling to each other and whistling commands to their dogs. They needed to get the bullocks safely to their destination: they were valuable animals.
    ‘Westminster isn’t far from here,’ Robin said, as they trudged past yet another village green. ‘It won’t be long before we get there.’
    ‘How far is Westminster from London?’
    ‘Just outside. Near enough for the King to be in the city when he has to and still be in his own bed come nightfall.’
    ‘The King!’ Jenna was wide-eyed.
    ‘Yes, the King. His Royal Highness King Henry VI,’ Robin was smiling at Jenna’s innocence. ‘He lives in Westminster, too.’
    ‘But not on the farm!’
    He roared with laughter. ‘No! No, of course not. Not on the farm, though there is a fine manor house on the estate where I’m sure he would be very comfortable. No, the King has a grand palace all of his own with servants and great lords and ladies to look after him.’
    Jenna was quiet for a long time, taking in this unexpected information.
    ‘Will I see him?’
    ‘Who, the King?’ Robin laughed again. ‘Unlikely. He doesn’t go walking around the village streets in Westminster. He lives in the palace. But it’s quite close. We’re making for the Manor of Eye-next-Westminster, the demesne which belongs to the monastery.’
    ‘The what?’
    ‘The demesne. We’d call it a barton back in Devon. It’s a big estate.’
    ‘That’s a strange name.’
    ‘What is? Demesne?’
    ‘No, not that. The other one. The Manor of whatever you said.’
    ‘The Manor of Eye? Yes, Eye is the old name, apparently. Eybury is the name of the home farm, though the estate is still known as Eye. It’s a huge place, must run to a thousand acres, perhaps more. And there are always droves of cattle coming and going. Sheep, too, but mainly cattle. I bring bullocks up from Devon four times a year.’
    Jenna watched the swaying bovine backsides for a moment. ‘They’re all looking very thin,’ she said.
    ‘Not