had had the old King poisoned by Dr Lambe had been fanned by Charles’s refusal to comment upon the matter. Soon the physician had become as reviled as his patron.
Lambe had courted further scandal the previous year when there had been reports that he had raped a young girl in the Countess of Buckingham’s household. Furious that he had yet again escaped justice, an angry mob had set upon him when he next appeared in London, stoning him to death. The King had pardoned all those who had taken part.
‘I am glad Sir Thomas was not obliged to accompany him,’ Kate remarked.
‘As am I,’ Frances replied. Daily, she rejoiced that her husband had risen so high in the King’s favour. Charles was not as fond of hunting as his late father had been, so instead he had appointed Thomas to serve in his bedchamber, alongside others who had proven their faith. Among them was Lord Rutland, and it gladdened Frances to see how close he had grown to his daughter once more – though he took care to avoid her husband.
Frances, too, had thrived in the new reign. Her invitation to serve the Queen had been quick to arrive. She had been glad to accept, particularly as Kate had been offered a position too. Henrietta Maria was a pleasant, rather shy young woman, who had soon won favour with her new courtiers – Frances included. She had none of Queen Anne’s political guile or shrewdness, but perhaps that was as well, Frances thought. She had shown enough discernment to resist the Countess of Buckingham’s persistent flattery and deny her a position in her household. The countess had left for her Brooksby estate in high dudgeon.
Frances and Kate had enjoyed many hours sewing and conversing with their young mistress. When none of the other ladies were present, they would even hear mass in the Queen’s privy closet. Frances smiled to think of how this would have warmed Anne’s heart if she had known. Her dying wish had been fulfilled beyond anything she could have expected.
Thomas’s new duties were hardly onerous – certainly not enough to justify the salary, which was one of the most lucrative in the entire household. He had talked of buying a new estate, but his joy at reclaiming Tyringham Hall was still as fresh as it had been three years before, and there was nowhere else that he and Frances wished to spend their time when they were granted leave from court. Such occasions were frequent now. Secure in the King and Queen’s esteem, she and her husband spent more than half the year in Buckinghamshire. She delighted in seeing their sons grow. John was fifteen now, Robert only two years behind. Both had matured into fine young men, full of promise. At ten, William had lost his wilder tendencies, but his younger brother Samuel more than compensated for him in mischief.
A snuffling sound drew the women’s attention to the ornate cradle at the far end of the room. Frances watched as Kate padded across the room to gaze at her infant son with a rapt expression.
‘Hush, Georgie.’ She stroked his downy hair.
The boy was almost seven months old now. He had been conceived in violence, but slipped from his mother’s womb as mildly as a lamb. Frances had witnessed the profound change that his arrival had wrought in her friend. Kate now bore herself with greater confidence and seemed more resilient to her husband’s taunts and cruelty, which had hardly abated since she had given him a son and heir. Although she still doted upon her daughter, the pride she took in her firstborn son was obvious for all to see.
Frances’s smile faded as she thought of her own son George. He had returned to Cambridge straight after that terrible encounter in their apartment at Whitehall. It still made her heart contract with pain, though the wounds had begun to heal. She had not seen him for many months afterwards, and her letters had gone unanswered. She had resolved to visit him in Cambridge, but Thomas had advised against it, saying that he would go there first.
It had been the first step on the long road to reconciliation. George’s relationship with her husband had healed more quickly than with her. Still he could not bring himself to call Thomas ‘Papa’, but she hoped that would soon come. When at last she had seen him, there had been no recriminations, only pain, deep and visceral. He had