ladies were not expected to do so, not least because it prevented their falling pregnant with another heir. But Frances had cared little for the idle gossip. People would soon find other matters to occupy their conversation at dinner.
She had not told Thomas that she would soon be joining him at court. She knew he would do everything he could to dissuade her, anxious to keep her away from the danger that surrounded him. But he needed her – of that she was certain. The thought strengthened her resolve as she gazed down at Robert. She prayed it would stay with her as she bade him and his brother farewell in the morning.
She had forgotten the noise. The endless clatter of hoofs on cobbles, the incessant cries of stallholders. The stench, too – so different from the fragrant woods that surrounded Tyringham Hall. It was a little over two years since she had last set foot in the city, but it felt like a lifetime.
As the carriage rumbled into the palace courtyard, she had to push away thoughts of her departure from Buckinghamshire two days earlier. But images of Robert’s chubby arms held out as his wet-nurse tried to comfort him, and of John clinging to her skirts as she made to climb the steps of the carriage, flooded back. The jolt as it reached an abrupt halt brought her back to the present. Wiping away her tears as the coachman opened the door, she stepped down onto the cobbles.
Frances stared around her. The courtyard was the usual bustle of carriages arriving, wagons laden with provisions and servants hurrying to and fro. How happy she had been to leave this place, soon after Princess Elizabeth had embarked for the Palatine with her new husband. Thomas had been at her side, his hand resting protectively on her swollen belly. The memory quickened her steps now as she made her way to his apartment. She had heard the bells of St Martin’s strike four as the Holbein Gate had come into view. Her husband would soon return to make ready for the evening.
Just before she reached the end of the passage that led from the state rooms to the first set of courtiers’ lodgings, a noise made her pause. She listened. There it was again – a gasp, quickly suppressed. It came from a dark recess to her right. She waited another moment, glancing around her to make sure she was not being watched, then took a step towards it.
As she peered through the archway, she could see a faint glimmer of light at the far end of the recess. There must be another opening or a window just out of view. She knew she should continue on her way, ignore whatever clandestine tryst was taking place, but curiosity triumphed over discretion and she took another step forward. She heard the rustle of clothing and a man’s breath, quick and sharp. Slowly, she peered around the corner.
A thin shaft of light illuminated the young woman’s face, which was contorted with pain or pleasure – Frances could not tell which. Her skirts were raised around her waist and her legs were held apart by the man who stood between them, bucking against her like a rutting beast. Next to the girl was a groom Frances recognised from the King’s household. He was naked and his eyes were alight with desire. She watched, transfixed, as the older man leaned over and kissed him deeply, his fingers stroking his arousal. As the light caught his face she drew in a sharp breath. George Villiers.
His thrusting was rougher now, more urgent. The woman closed her eyes as he gave a shudder and cried out. Frances drew back and pressed herself against the wall, trying desperately to slow her breathing. As she padded silently from the recess, she heard Villiers give a low chuckle.
‘Now it is your turn, my young master.’
Frances ran the rest of the way to Thomas’s lodgings. As she lifted the latch and stepped over the threshold, she breathed in its familiar scent, hoping it would calm her. Though it was a warm autumn day, the room felt cold and she noticed a thick layer of dust on the fireplace, which added to the air of neglect. Mrs Knyvett had grown less attentive in her duties without her master’s wife to keep an eye on her, Frances thought. Well, she would soon set it to rights, she resolved, as she unfastened her cloak and