had already passed under it and into the first courtyard. She turned instead towards the stables, hoping to see Thomas as he led the horses there while Buckingham basked in the attentions of his adoring royal master.
‘God’s teeth! What are you about, man?’
The cry rang out from the stable-yard as Frances approached. She stopped as she rounded the corner and saw the duke glowering at her husband, who was helping him untangle his boot from the stirrup. All of the smiles and graciousness with which he had received his hero’s welcome were gone. She wondered what could have put him in such a foul temper already.
‘Leave it!’ he commanded, kicking out at Thomas’s fingers. Frances saw her husband’s flicker of a smile as he turned to unsaddle the horse. She watched as Buckingham struggled to free his boot then, muttering another curse, took it off altogether and stamped his stockinged foot on the gravel. ‘Do not think I am blind to what you have done, Tyringham,’ he spat, grabbing Thomas roughly by the shoulders.
Her husband looked calmly at him. ‘Your Grace?’
The duke took a step towards him. Frances moved closer, taking care to remain hidden from view. Her eyes flitted to the sword at Buckingham’s belt.
‘Do not toy with me, churl. You have dripped poison into the King’s ear while I have been away, making him doubt my loyalty and question my motives for going to Spain. Why else would he give me such a greeting just now?’
Frances willed her husband to say nothing that might provoke him.
‘What other motives could you have had, my lord duke, than to secure a great alliance for this kingdom?’ he asked, in mock-innocence.
Buckingham moved so close to Thomas that their foreheads almost touched. Slowly, he reached around to caress the hair at the back of his neck. Nausea rose in her, as Frances watched her husband struggle to stop himself lashing out, knowing that this was exactly what the duke wanted. Suddenly, Buckingham grasped a handful of hair and yanked Thomas’s head backwards. ‘You may think you enjoy His Majesty’s favour now, but it is an illusion. I will see you ruined – you and that pretty wife of yours. I would have rid myself of you both years ago, if it was not so diverting to see you suffer. Losing your family seat must have been enough to unman you,’ he purred.
Frances saw her husband’s hand move to his sword.
‘But do not grieve, Thomas, for you and your wife must visit us there, as soon as we have ordered the place to our satisfaction. I wonder that you can have put up with somewhere that lacked so many modern comforts – not to mention fashions. Why, it is quite the relic!’
‘You purchased it? But . . .’
Buckingham inclined his head. ‘Through a second party, of course – I know how touchy men can be about selling to their superiors. Now I have returned, I will have much more leisure to set it to rights. Katherine will manage it for me. It will do her good to spend some time away from court. Goodness knows what company she has been keeping during my absence.’
Frances stared at him. He had released his grip on her husband and was smiling at him.
‘Now, please – fetch my boot. I must go and dress for dinner.’
Frances gazed at the long tables lined on each side with courtiers, all looking in her direction. It was strange to see the hall from this vantage point, and although it was a great honour to have been invited to join the King’s table, she could not help feeling rather exposed. She was glad that Thomas had been seated next to her, the Earl of Rutland on her other side. She was glad, too, that Buckingham was at the opposite end of the table, several seats away from James and the prince.
‘My lords.’ The King had risen to his feet. ‘We have ordered this feast to celebrate the return of our son and heir, the Prince of Wales.’ A cheer rose up around the room. ‘And of His Grace the Duke of Buckingham.’ Frances was gratified that the cheers petered out. She saw that the duke’s smile had become fixed. ‘But it is also our pleasure to reward the great service performed by two other gentlemen here this evening. My lord Rutland, Sir Thomas – Tom,’ he added, with a grin, ‘please accept these small tokens of our gratitude and esteem.’
Frances exulted