‘Is there no hope of a pardon?’
Bacon gave a bark of laughter. ‘His Majesty is more likely to give up hunting than restore me to the privy council – his precious angel has made sure of that.’
Although Frances had lived at court for long enough to expect such sudden twists of Fate, Lord Bacon’s had been more sudden than most. His last letter – admittedly written many weeks before – had given no hint of any troubles, but by the time she had arrived at court he had been impeached for corruption. She had heard enough of the charges to know they were groundless. Of all the King’s councillors, he was the least likely to accept bribes. But such details mattered little to his royal master when his favourite had persuaded him otherwise.
‘Perhaps you might petition His Grace again, once he has had time to reflect,’ she ventured.
Bacon shook his head. ‘You know as well as I that it would be in vain. I have already assured the King that when hearts are opened mine shall not be found corrupt. I may be frail in body, but in morals I am as Saint Peter himself.’
Frances kissed his cheek. His eyes brimmed with tears.
‘Well, it is no matter,’ he went on, brushing them away. ‘The experience has given me yet another thing in common with my dear friend. Now we are not only fellow herbalists and intellectuals, but victims of His Majesty’s summary justice.’
Frances knew that though Bacon was making light of it, his impeachment must have shaken him to the core. He had enjoyed a seemingly inexorable rise since becoming lord keeper. But this had only served to increase his enemies’ desire to bring him down – Buckingham in particular. The marquess had been content as his patron until he judged that Bacon was threatening his own pre-eminence in the council.
‘I am sorry I was not here when it happened,’ Frances said. ‘If I had left Buckinghamshire a couple of weeks earlier, I could have attended your trial.’
‘I am glad you were spared the experience, my dear. That wretch Coke presided over it,’ he added bitterly. ‘He could not resist such an opportunity to triumph over me, of course. How he must have delighted in announcing that ridiculous fine. I will never be able to pay it, of course – even after selling the lease to this place and several other properties besides.’
‘Then you may console yourself with the knowledge that we have one more thing in common,’ Frances observed.
‘Forgive me, my dear. I have wallowed in my own misery so much that I have failed to ask how your own affairs prosper. Did the harvest bring no respite?’
‘The rains blighted the crops, as they have every year since Raleigh’s death. It seems God is punishing us for supporting his voyage.’
‘They fall on other lands than yours, my dear,’ Bacon reminded her. ‘If God is showing His hand, then it is surely against the King, who presides over them all.’ He paused. ‘I should have helped you when I had the means. Is there no hope of saving Tyringham Hall?’
‘Thomas has already instructed his agent to advertise it for sale,’ she replied, her voice flat. ‘Our sons will go to live with my mother and George at Longford.’
‘That at least must be a comfort.’
‘It would be more so if I could join them.’ Since returning to court, she had seen little of her husband. The King no longer troubled to return there after each hunt, but travelled from one country estate to the next, often staying for weeks at a time. Frances had begun to question the wisdom of her decision to come here. Her time would surely be better served with her sons. Then she thought of Thomas, how wan he had looked when she had arrived here three weeks earlier, and felt ashamed. She would not desert him.
Footsteps echoed along the corridor. Frances and Bacon turned to see two men enter the hall, straining under the weight of an enormous painting. As they set it on its side, the linen cover fell away. Frances stared. The portrait was of a man and a woman in a woodland clearing. They were naked but for two pieces of silk covering their modesty. The man had one hand on his heart and the other around the lady as he gazed adoringly at her. Her expression was uncertain, as if she was ashamed of her nakedness. She did not look at her