Peace?
to view sixteenth-century London from the warmth of our rooms. Once we were settled, her servant returned with a plate of preserved fruit. “Ooh,” Henry said, happily wiggling his fingers over the yellow, green, and orange confections. “Comfits. You make them like no one else.” “And I shall share my secret with Stephanie,” Mary said, looking pleased. “Of course, once she has the receipt, I may never have the pleasure of Henry’s company again.” “Now, Mary, you go too far,” he protested around a mouthful of candied orange peel. “Is your husband with you, Mary, or does the queen’s business keep him in Wales?” Seven inquired. “The Earl of Pembroke left Milford Haven several days ago but will go to court rather than come here. I have William and Philip with me for company, and we will not
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