‘Of course.’

I looked down. I always found Ruy’s flaunting of his wealth and his possessions uncomfortable. He would like, I was sure, to be as ostentatious as Drake himself, who loaded his new wife down with so many jewels she looked like one of those statues of the Virgin which used to be paraded through the streets in Portugal. The sheer weight of them must make it difficult for her to move.

The servants were clearing away all the dishes from the first course from the table and I let my eyes travel over the portraits on the wall opposite me. There were individual portraits of Ruy and Sara, and a large painting of the entire family, including all the children, the family dog and an exotic parrot that had lived for just a few weeks before turning up its African toes and dying in last winter’s English cold. There was also a miniature of the eldest daughter Anne, who was of an age with me. It had been painted, Sara had told me, to aid in marriage negotiations Ruy was carrying out with a number of his foreign trading partners, to Anne’s own dismay. She had no wish to leave England.

‘It is true,’ said Lopez, in answer to some question my father had asked, when I had not been attending. ‘I must dance attendance on Dom Antonio with enemas of senna for his over-indulgence, and words of honey for his political demands, but we are everywhere frustrated. Drake was with me when I urged the Portuguese expedition to the Privy Council in December, and Walsingham believes we should catch the Spaniard napping before he wakes and makes his move, but the Council is full of pusillanimous laggards. And the Queen will make no decision.’

‘And the Dom himself?’ my father asked.

‘Impatient. Full of frustrated anger. And when he is in this mood, he drinks himself to a stupor. He was the same when we were youths, at home in Crato. He must have his will, or he will sulk. And to be sure, his money is fast running through his fingers, trying to maintain his little court. They are beginning to drift away. Or turn their coats.’

Dr Nuñez looked up sharply. ‘There is a traitor amongst them?’

Lopez smiled complacently and finished his glass of wine before he spoke. Then he dismissed the servants from the room, for he was not so far cup-shotten as to lose all caution.

‘You recall Mendoza, the former ambassador from Spain?’

There was a general murmur of agreement.

‘Well, he is now based in Paris, as you know. One of the Dom’s followers, Antonio da Vega, is in Mendoza’s pay. However, his letters to Mendoza are passed across the Channel through the good offices of my cousin Jeronimo.’

Lopez stroked his beard but could not conceal a faint smirk.

‘Before Jeronimo conceals the letters in his bales of goods, he is kind enough to make copies for me. I have been whispering a few nothings to da Vega, who has passed them to Mendoza, who has, no doubt, sent them on to His Majesty, King Philip.’

The men laughed, and Sara and I exchanged glances, while Beatriz Nuñez looked uncomfortable and Anne Lopez gazed down at her plate.

‘I have definite word,’ said Dr Nuñez slowly, ‘that the Spaniards are preparing an invasion fleet. The killing of the Scots queen has only made them the more determined to attack England. My agent in Cadiz has sent reliable intelligence that the harbour there is filling up with merchantmen which have been commandeered to be converted into warships.’

He gave a bitter little laugh. ‘They have even seized one of my own ships! Unlike the Fair Wind, the Nightingale could not escape in time. One of my own ships in the Spanish navy! Now there is a fine irony.’

‘You have informed Walsingham?’

‘Naturally.’

Lopez tapped his teeth with his fingernail and helped himself to more wine, forgetting to serve his guests. At a nod from Sara I rose and moved quietly round the table refilling glasses.

‘I think we could turn this to our advantage,’ said Lopez. ‘It would be possible to feed da Vega with tales of England’s plans – false trails, to put the Spaniard off the scent. For surely Burghley and the Queen will send Drake against Cadiz?’

‘That is my belief. Sir Francis did not say so in so many words, but—’

‘Yes.’ Lopez interrupted. ‘I can make da Vega believe that Drake is preparing for a privateering venture against Brazil or Goa, somewhere far away. Word will go from da Vega to Mendoza, and from Mendoza to King Philip, so they will believe themselves secure.’

‘You must speak to Sir Francis.’ There was a warning note in Dr Nuñez’s voice. ‘Do not embark on such a scheme without his authority, Ruy.’

‘Hmm,’ said Lopez, and there was a distant look in his eye that I recognised. ‘It could be a pretty scheme.’

I kept my counsel while they spoke. None of them realised that I knew far more of these affairs than they did.

The following day I reported the gist of this conversation to Phelippes, for I well understood Ruy’s complacent rashness. It would be characteristic of him to ignore Dr Nuñez’s warning and embark on some scheme of feeding false information to Mendoza on his own, without consulting Walsingham. The result could well be the destruction of some other careful plan which Sir Francis and Phelippes were themselves carrying out.

‘I see,’ said Phelippes. ‘Come with me. I think we need to speak to Sir Francis.

I followed him to Walsingham’s own office, where he greeted me courteously.

‘I am glad you are working with us again, Kit. You know that we value you.’

I mumbled something in reply. I thought he was looking a little less frail than he had done at the funeral, but he was still pale and his face was drawn with fatigue.

‘Kit has been hearing something useful to us,’ said Phelippes.

I repeated Ruy’s talk at dinner.

‘So da Vega is a traitor,’ said Sir Francis, stroking his beard. ‘That does not surprise me. Dom Antonio is very short of money, and what little he has he spends on himself instead of on his followers. That is not the action of a wise leader. It is to be expected that some of them will desert to a higher paymaster, like Medoza. I will speak to Dr Lopez. His scheme has some merits. And he is correct that we are considering an attack by Drake on Cadiz.’

‘Why Cadiz?’ I asked. ‘I thought the main Spanish fleet was gathering in Lisbon, despite what Dr Nuñez said last night.’

‘The port of Lisbon is very heavily defended with a battery of cannon,’ Walsingham said. ‘Also, it is some distance up a narrow part of the river Tejo from the coast, as I am sure you know, Kit. Therefore it is impossible to make a surprise attack. As soon as Drake started to sail up the Tejo toward the city, a galloper would be sent by land with a warning. It would soon outstrip the ships. An English fleet caught in the river would be vulnerable to ambush.’

‘Oh, I see.’ I had little understanding of military tactics, but I was learning. Even to my ignorant mind, this made sense. ‘And Cadiz?’

‘Cadiz is the centre for provisions,’ said Phelippes. ‘It has warehouses full of supplies to feed the men as well as weaponry and gunpowder and shot. The supply vessels are being mustered in the harbour there. And it is much more open to attack by sea. Strike at Philip’s supplies and he cannot move.’

‘Clever.’ I said.

Walsingham gave a tight smile. ‘Wars are won as much by clever tactics as by brute force, Kit, as you will learn. For although we may delay Philip’s planned invasion, it will come in the end.’

His words left a chill in the air.

Walsingham took up Ruy’s idea, but kept the control of it in his own hands. A very deluge of plans and schemes rained down upon Mendoza in Paris, channelled through da Vega, who believed he was passing on genuine secrets garnered from his position close to Dom Antonio. At the same time, Walsingham sent secret dispatches to the Queen’s ambassador in Paris, Sir Edward Stafford, intimating that Sir Francis Drake was to make a pre-emptive strike on Spain’s possessions in the New World, to cut off her supplies of money, goods and men.