So the deed is done at last and I am free of my accursed foe, Edward Seymour, Duke of Somerset. I make my way to the king"s presence, at Greenwich Palace on a raw morning when the barge is forever cutting through large, craggy chunks of ice. If it looked as though the Thames would freeze over completely during the long period of Christmas, it seems the more likely now as the temperature has dropped much further throughout January and now, almost at the end of that month, it is bitter indeed. I sit hunched up in my heaviest winter cloak, under the canopy, with no shield against the icy wind that lashes my unprotected face.
It is relief indeed to gain access to the palace at Greenwich and be ushered in to His Majesty"s presence, in his privy chamber. A massive log fire burns in the grate an
