She flushed. ‘You speak too plainly, my lord.’
‘Not if I mean honestly, ma’am.’
‘I hope you mean so,’ said she, ‘but the sound of your phrase is otherwise.’
‘I was speaking in character, ma’am. Mark that.’
She was looking down at her lap when next she spoke, carelessly at her careless fingers. ‘Whose child do they allege it?’
The directness of the question and indirectness of its manner puzzled him. He could not tell whether to be blunt or fine.
‘Madam, I am no scandal-monger, I hope, and have little pleasure in the grunting of hogs in a sty. But hogs will grunt, as your Majesty knows.’
She did not raise her eyes, but said: ‘It will be better that you answer me in a few words. One will suffice.’
He tried—he began—but could not do it. ‘Madam,’ he said, ‘you must answer for yourself. All I will ask is this: what, think you, drew the King to the deed he did?’
She lifted her head and gave him one long look. Rather, it seemed long. He knelt down quickly and kissed her knee.