gave him credit for. He has just returned from France.’
Frances’s breathing quickened. ‘He has found the jewels?’ she whispered.
‘Not quite,’ Bacon replied, setting down the quill. ‘But he has discovered the whereabouts of Lady Ruthven.’ He glanced at the door, as if fearing they were overheard. ‘I have had various reports over the years,’ he continued, ‘that the lady has been sighted in Paris, Fontainebleau . . . even Rome. But it seems that all the while she has been living a day’s ride from where she began, in Guînes at the Abbaye du Saint-Benoit.’
Frances was silent, taking this in.
‘If this were all, I would be content to let the lady live out her days in peace,’ he went on, ‘but my agent is not the only one to have discovered her whereabouts. He became aware that someone else was watching the comings and goings of the Abbaye. A few discreet enquiries suggested that the other gentleman was in the pay of the Marquis de Châteauneuf.’
The French envoy. Frances thought back to the various receptions at which she had seen him, always with the Duke of Buckingham in close attendance.
‘There is more.’ Bacon’s words interrupted her racing thoughts. ‘A third gentleman arrived in Guînes, before my agent’s departure. He visited Châteauneuf’s agent at his lodgings and they were in conference for almost an hour. When he departed, my associate followed him to the port at Calais, where he boarded a small vessel bound for England. The crew were dressed in Buckingham’s livery.’
Frances stared. It was as she had suspected. Having been abandoned by the King of Spain, the duke had changed his allegiance to France.
‘What does he stand to gain from this?’ she asked.
Bacon spread his hands. ‘What he has always striven for. Riches and power. You can be sure that if Châteauneuf’s agent seizes the jewels, the duke will demand his share.’
‘In recompense for arranging the prince’s marriage to the French King’s sister?’
Bacon inclined his head. ‘An excellent bargain.’
So that was why Buckingham had declined to join the hunt. He and Châteauneuf had taken the opportunity to conspire in private, now that the jewels were almost within their grasp.
‘But what if His Majesty proves unwilling? Châteauneuf has been at court for almost five months now, yet still negotiations have not begun for an alliance.’
Her friend’s expression darkened. ‘Even before I left his service, I could see that the King was growing frail – in body as well as mind. Buckingham would not flinch from hastening his end, as he has others before him.’
Frances thought of Lord Rutland’s son lying lifeless in his father’s arms. Although she had not seen Dr Lambe since his appearance in the masque, she had little doubt that Buckingham might summon him at a moment’s notice. Or perhaps the duke had learned enough to prepare the poison himself this time.
‘There is still the prince . . .’ Frances began.
‘He is of noble heart but is no match for Buckingham,’ Bacon countered. ‘The duke would find the means to dominate him as he has his father.’
For several minutes, the only sound in the gloomy chamber was the hiss and gutter of the tallow candles in their sconces.
Frances’s voice cut across the silence. ‘Then I must find a way to warn Lady Ruthven before it is too late.’
CHAPTER 58
18 February
The prince sat back in the chair, his face ashen. For several moments, he said nothing. Frances began to fear that she had made the wrong choice in coming to him. Thomas would not return for hours yet and, desperate though she was to confide in her husband, she had not wanted to risk delaying. With mounting apprehension, she studied Charles’s expression. Had she miscalculated? Was the cordiality that seemed to exist between him and Buckingham more than the pretence she had assumed it was – on the prince’s part at least? If so, he might take her words as slander.
‘You are quite sure that the duke plans to murder my father, if this alliance does not come to pass?’ he asked.
Frances nodded. ‘I fear so, Your Grace. He will surely stop at nothing to seize what he considers his share of your mother’s jewels.’
His mouth twisted with distaste. ‘I’ll wager Châteauneuf’s master will not share in the spoils. The marquis is as grasping as my father’s favourite.’
Frances’s silence signalled her agreement.
‘The irony is that I am in accord with this alliance,’ the prince continued. ‘Before she died, I promised my mother that I would marry a princess