The groom Tom Godwin came running up and between us we soon had Hector settled in a roomy stall with fresh straw on the floor and a manger full of hay. I took my saddlebags, eased my lute off my back, and left Tom rubbing Hector down, whistling softly between his teeth, while the horse munched contentedly.

The steward led me back to the front door of the house. That settled one point. It was not to be the servants’ entrance for me. Edward followed closely behind, chattering like a flock of sparrows: When had I left London? Did I really come from Portugal? Was that a lute in the case? Would we be starting lessons today? Did I like fishing?

I answered distractedly whenever he drew breath. The girl was nowhere to be seen as we climbed the front steps and entered the large entrance hall, from which a double staircase mounted in a lovely sweep, apparently floating on air. Master Alchester conducted me to the first floor, then along to a large bright room.

‘This is the schoolroom,’ he said, his gesture indicating comfortable chairs, three tables, books, a rack of recorders and a virginal. It had a slightly untidy, lived-in look.

‘It used to be the nursery,’ Edward said, ‘but of course I am too old for that now.’

‘Of course,’ I agreed.

Master Alchester crossed the room and threw open a further door.

‘This is the chamber used by the last tutor,’ he said. ‘I hope you will find it satisfactory.’

It was more than satisfactory. My relief that I would not be required to share a room made my heart give a leap in my chest.

‘Who teaches the other subjects?’ I asked. ‘Edward, you are surely studying more than music and mathematics?’

‘Oh, the rector from Great Hartwell comes over three times a week,’ he said. ‘The Reverend Conings. He teaches me Latin and Greek and history, but he says he has no head for mathematics. And although he can hold a tune in church, he cannot play an instrument to save his life.’

I could hear the rector’s own voice behind the words and suppressed a smile. But this was interesting, that the family employed a cleric of the English church to teach their children. That did not suggest Catholicism.

‘And does your sister also study with the rector?’ I asked.

‘No, she does not.’ I had not heard her come in, but she stood now in the doorway, eying me speculatively. ‘I have had enough of those dry subjects. I keep up my music, and I read.’ She gestured toward the generous piles of books. Another sign of wealth, I thought.

‘And mathematics, Cecilia?’ I said. ‘I understood you were also to be instructed in mathematics.’ I had used her first name deliberately, rather than Mistress Cecilia. I was determined to establish this barrier of age and position from the start.

She made a face. ‘My father feels I have not made sufficient progress in mathematics, but why he supposes I should ever need a knowledge of the subject, I cannot imagine.’

Edward laughed. ‘She is as stupid as a log of wood. I am far better at mathematics than she is, although she pretends to be so superior because she is older.’

The girl frowned and the steward said, ‘Master Edward, that is no way to speak of your sister.’

I saw that the steward had the authority that comes with being the master’s most valued servant. But I was anxious that hostility should not build up between the girl and myself.

‘I understand that you love music, Cecilia, and are a skilled musician. There are many links between music and mathematics. Perhaps we might look at the mathematics of harmony, something I find fascinating myself.’

A spark of interest showed in the girl’s eyes and she inclined her head. ‘I should like that. It would certainly be more enjoyable than our former tutor’s lessons on bills of trade and merchants’ accounts. What use would I have for them?’

She was scornful, and had a right to be. By all the evidence of her home and her clothes, she was destined for marriage to a great landowner. Someone else would keep her accounts for her.

They left me to ‘rest’ as the steward said, though I had no intention of keeping Lady Bridget waiting. I must be quiet, courteous, attentive, and unobtrusive if I was to do what I was here to do. Already I felt uncomfortable at the thought of spying on these people, even though I did not much like the girl. Telling me to come down to the great hall when I was ready, Master Alchester herded my pupils out of the schoolroom, closing the door behind him.

I went into my new chamber, to examine it more thoroughly. It was a corner room in one of the rear bays of the house, with two windows, one overlooking the stableyard, the other facing a formal garden. There was a comfortable bed, a coffer for my clothes and a chair upholstered in the modern fashion with padded cushions tacked on to the frame. On a table below one of the windows stood a basin and a ewer of – amazingly – warm water. Someone must have put it here while I was seeing to the horse. Clearly this was a very well run household. On a dish beside the basin lay a bar of fine Castilian soap, such as I had not seen since leaving Coimbra. This was a family which could afford expensive imports.

I washed my hands and face and dried them on a soft towel laid on the table beside the soap, then changed my shirt and brushed the dust off my shoes and the rest of my clothes. My spare clothes I laid in the coffer. My papers and textbook, and the map to Hartwell Hall, I arranged neatly and openly on another table, together with my writing materials, and my lute I propped up in a corner, having checked that it had survived the journey. The Barn Elms map I kept tucked inside my doublet. I had a feeling that this was a house where invisible servants glided through every room, cleaning and tidying, laying fires and bringing hot water. And that anything suspicious would be reported back to the steward or Sir Damian himself. The thought made me wary and also made my task of searching for letters seem impossible.

When all this was done – and it did not take many minutes – I retraced my steps to the great hall on the ground floor, where I found the steward and Edward waiting for me.

‘Are we to start lessons today, Master Alvarez?’ he said.

‘No, you may have a holiday until tomorrow,’ I said. ‘I must talk to your parents first.’

‘Then I shall go fishing,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Master Alchester, could you send Jim to make the boat ready?’

‘I will, Master Edward, on one condition, that you promise not to fall into the lake this time.’

‘I won’t. I promise!’ The boy went off laughing and the steward turned to me with a smile.

‘The young master would spend every spare minute fishing if he could.’

‘There are worse things,’ I said. ‘There is a lake on the estate, then?’

‘Yes, about half a mile away.’ He gestured vaguely toward the back of the house. ‘And it is well stocked with fish. We never run short. Now, if you will follow me, I will take you to Lady Bridget.’

I inclined my head and followed him. Already I was speculating on whether a Catholic family might have need of more fish than a Protestant one, dietary rules being somewhat more demanding.

The steward led the way along a hallway. In answer to his knock a voice called, ‘Come.’

‘Master Alvarez has arrived, my lady.’

The steward stepped aside and I entered the room as he withdrew.

‘Lady Bridget, your servant,’ I said, bowing.

She inclined her head, but did not rise. I could see the source of the girl’s beauty, though the mother’s was beginning to fade. Where the sun through the south-facing window caught it, her hair had a slight copper tinge, whereas the girl’s hair was pure spun gold. And whereas the girl’s face had the smooth skin of youth, the older woman’s brow was marked with faint lines of anxiety.

‘Come, sit down, Master Alvarez,’ she said, indicating a chair close to her own.