“There is no place I would rather be than Hever, and I knew that when I was eighteen and came here as a bride, riding across the drawbridge with William and seeing for the first time the fine Tudor house within the ancient walls of the castle. Even today I can still recapture that thrill whenever I see sunlight streaming through the leaded windows onto the magnificent panelling, or make my painful way through the herb garden, conjuring up the scents of long ago. Hever is a little jewel of a castle, its mellow stone walls drowsing in a leafy valley. It holds for me the echo of that distant summer, lost in time, when William and I were lovers in Sir Geoffrey’s grand bedchamber, and all around us was magic and joy.”