As soon as he entered the chamber he saw Katharine.

He gave a cry of joy and would have rushed to her but he was restrained by guards. Eagerly he studied her. She was not harmed in any way. She looked at him in a bewildered fashion as though she was seeing him afresh. He could not bear that.

“Katharine . . .” his lips formed the words and she smiled at him.

“Husband . . .” she whispered, and he knew that she loved him still.

The King said. “Give the Lady Katharine Gordon a chair, and place it here beside me.”

This was done and Katharine sat down.

“Now, my lady,” said Henry, “your husband wants to tell you who in truth he is. He will explain everything. I thought it right that you should know and hear it from his own lips. Proceed, Perkin.”

He tried to speak but he could only look at her. He wanted her to run to him; he wanted to put his arms about her; but she only sat there looking at him with those beautiful appealing eyes begging him to speak.

He had to tell the truth and it all came back so vividly now.

“My father is John Warbeck. We lived in Tournay. He was a controller of customs.”

She stared at him disbelievingly. He should never have lied to her. He should have explained everything before they married. But at that time he had for long periods believed it was true that he was Richard Duke of York. That story of being with his brother in the Tower, of being handed over to the man who could not murder him had seemed far more real than his father’s house in Tournay.

But he must go on. He must preserve his life. He must try to make Katharine understand. He could not bear to see her look at him like that.

He went on: “I was put into several houses. I served there in various capacities . . . in exchange I was given some education. Then the Framptons came to Flanders. They had been supporters of the House of York and they had to leave when King Henry came. They saw my resemblance to the Duke of York and they convinced me that I was one of the Princes who disappeared in the Tower. I passed from one household to another. . . .I went to the French Court and the Court of Bordeaux. . . .I was learning all the time. . . .You know the rest. I passed myself off as Richard Duke of York, second son of Edward the Fourth . . . and therefore since Edward the Fifth was dead, heir to the throne.”

The King was watching Katharine closely during this confession. He said: “You see, my lady, how you have been deceived like so many others.”

Still she was silent, looking at Perkin with disbelief in her eyes.

“My lady, you shall go to the Queen. I have asked her to care for you and treat you as a sister. You will understand I cannot free your husband. I shall not treat him harshly for I see full well that he has been the tool of others. Now he will go to London and you shall go to the Queen. I will leave you for ten minutes to take your farewells of each other and to say what you wish to.”

With those words Henry rose and walked slowly out of the chamber.

Perkin rushed to Katharine. He knelt at her feet and buried his face in her skirts. For a few seconds she did nothing; then he felt her fingers in his hair and he lifted his face to hers.

“Is it true?” she asked. “Is it something they have made you say under threat?”

He shook his head. “It is true . . . alas. Lady Katharine Gordon has married the son of a customs official.”

“I married you,” she said.

He had risen and taken her into his arms and they clung together for a moment.

“Oh . . . my love . . . what will they do to you?” she asked.

Joy flooded over him. In that moment he did not care. All that mattered was that she cared.

“They say the King is lenient. . . .”

She thought of the stories she had heard of Flammock and Michael Joseph. What had they done? Not nearly so much as her husband. He had raised a revolt, headed an army, called himself the true king.

“He will send me to the Tower,” he said. “But he has hinted that in time I might be free.” He took her face in his hands. He said: “Katharine, I don’t think I wanted to go on with it . . . after I found you. But if I had never started it I should never have met you. Marriage between us would have been an impossibility . . . but once I had you . . . and the baby . . . I just wanted to go back . . . back into obscurity . . . to Tournay . . . in a little house . . .”

She said: “I know.”

“And what will you do?”

“It has been decided for me. I must go to the Queen.”

“Katharine . . . in time . . .”

She said: “Let us pray it will be soon.”

“Oh God bless you. You are even more wonderful than I ever thought you could be.”

“I did not love a crown,” she said. “I loved you.”

“And you still do?”

“I do not change,” she told him. “I think perhaps I knew. . . .I could never see you as King of England and myself as Queen. . . .I shall pray that the King frees you. . . .”

“And then, Katharine?”

“We shall go away . . . right away . . . where no one knows us.”

“You will want that?”

“There will be the two of us . . . the three of us . . . Perhaps more children. We will make a home for ourselves . . . and over that will hang no shadows . . . no fears of going to war . . . no crowns, which have to be won.”

“Oh Katharine . . . it’s strange but I feel happier than I have for a long time.”

The guards had come. It was time for Perkin to go to London and for the Lady Katharine to be taken to the Queen.

Henry was not quite as lenient as he had first implied he would be. He did not feel vindictive toward Perkin, but he wanted everyone to know the extent of his folly.