jollity, ‘when are you going to give your husband another son? Five is not enough for any man.’
Frances grinned. ‘It is impertinent to ask a lady of my years such a question.’ She folded her hands over her flat stomach. The truth was that she longed for another child. Much as she loved her boys, a daughter would be such a blessing – one who would grow as close to her as she was to her mother. Now that she was in her forty-fourth year, though, it pained her to admit that she was unlikely to bear another child.
‘Nonsense!’ Bacon cried. ‘You are in your prime, my dear. I see how men look at you, even if you don’t. You are your mother’s daughter. The marchioness was such a beauty that even my head was turned,’ he added, with a playful wink.
They were approaching the landing stage at Whitehall now.
‘I hope you are ready to be bested, my lord,’ Frances said, as she gathered up her skirts. ‘I have yet to be beaten at bowls, though my husband has attempted it many times.’
‘Lady Tyringham!’
She had only just alighted from the barge when she saw a groom in the King’s livery rushing towards her.
‘His Majesty requires your presence at once. Please.’ He gestured for her to follow him.
With an anxious glance at her friend, she hastened after him.
‘Is it my husband?’ she asked, fearing that some accident had befallen him.
‘No, my lady, but you must make haste.’
Frances did not question the boy further as they raced through the outer courtyards of the palace but her mind was agitated. Was it the prince? Had he betrayed her – made a pact with Buckingham and exposed her as a Catholic? Or had the duke at last made good his threat to have her exposed as a witch? By the time they reached the King’s privy chamber, she was struggling to suppress her rising panic.
The groom rushed ahead and announced her arrival. A moment later, the King appeared. Frances hid her shock at his appearance. Tears were streaming down his face and his hair was dishevelled. He was clad only in a shirt and hose, as if he had just been roused from his bed.
‘Lady Tyringham, you are come!’ he cried, as he limped over and clasped her hands. His own felt cold and clammy, and the bitter aroma of sweat and stale wine filled Frances’s nostrils. Was he sick? She could think of no other reason why his attendants would have so neglected their master’s appearance. ‘It is poor Steenie – he is dying.’
It took Frances a moment to understand what he had said. Buckingham? Her heart soared. God had heeded her prayers at last. Already the King was leading her into the chamber beyond, sobbing as he did so. The windows had been shuttered and the only light came from the dying embers in the grate. At first, Frances could just make out a faint shadow on the bed, but as she edged closer she saw the duke, his naked chest exposed as he thrashed about.
‘Fetch me a candle,’ she ordered a fearful page standing at the back of the room. He jumped as if she had struck him and hurried off towards the fireplace. Buckingham gave a loud groan as she held the flame close to his face. His hair was damp, but his skin felt cool and dry to the touch and there was no other sign of fever. She set the candle on the table and forced herself to examine him calmly and methodically, as she would anyone else who had fallen sick. His heartbeat was strong and steady as she placed her ear to his chest, and his skin was clear of any rashes or sores.
‘Has he vomited?’ she asked, peeling back the covers to continue her examinations.
‘No, my lady,’ one of the attendants replied.
‘How long has he been like this?’
‘Some three hours or more.’ The King spoke this time. ‘He had not been here for long when we fell into a quarrel over— It was nothing,’ he babbled. ‘He turned to leave but fainted away before he had crossed the threshold. He has been senseless ever since, often crying out – from pain or delirium, I cannot tell.’
James was weeping again, his face in his hands. Stripped of his kingly finery, he had the appearance of a frail old man, his sunken chest rising and falling in jerks, his rickety legs ready to give way at any