my lord,’ Frances persisted, her fingers closing over the tiny glass phial in her pocket.
Buckingham spread his hands. ‘I wish I could oblige you. But I am sure you would not want me to defy a royal command. These are treacherous times, Lady Frances, and His Grace must be given no cause to doubt those who serve him. Your husband knows that all too well.’
Frances bit back a remark, determined not to let him provoke her into saying something she might regret.
‘Then I will bid you goodnight,’ she said, and curtsied. She stepped forward but he moved to block her path.
‘The King can trust you, can he not, my lady?’ he murmured. ‘Only I have heard rumours that you were once a prisoner here – under suspicion of witchcraft, no less.’
Frances tasted bile but maintained her composure. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing he had riled her. ‘For a short time, yes. But I was soon acquitted. Perhaps Sir Walter will enjoy a similar outcome.’
Buckingham let out a bark of laughter. There was another groan from Raleigh’s chamber. Frances glanced towards it, desperate to run inside and press the tincture into his hands. But instead she turned slowly back to face the marquess.
‘Do not worry, my lady. I will take good care of him,’ he said, with a slow smile.
Frances did not reply, but walked briskly towards the door. She had just lifted the latch when he spoke again.
‘I will not trouble the King with news of your little . . . excursion,’ he said softly. ‘Not unless it becomes necessary, of course.’
Frances paused, her hand still on the latch. ‘Goodnight, my lord,’ she replied, then closed the door quietly behind her.
Frances glanced at the clock on the fireplace. A quarter past three. For almost an hour now her ears had strained for the shouts of the crowds gathered on the Strand.
‘Lady Frances?’
She turned quickly back to Anne, her face flushing. ‘Forgive me, Your Grace. I am but poor company today. What did you ask?’
The Queen gave a knowing smile. ‘I am glad you came. The hours pass so slowly here some days, though I much prefer it to the ceaseless prattle of court.’ She glanced towards the window. ‘Sir Walter is a little behind his time, is he not?’
Frances nodded tightly but said nothing. He had been summoned to appear before the privy council that morning. If Buckingham had not prevented her from delivering the precious tincture to him last night, he would have been spared the humiliation of answering the charges against him – not to mention the long journey through the streets of London, which must have been an ordeal in his enfeebled state.
‘You must not blame yourself, my dear,’ Anne said kindly. ‘You did everything you could to save him from this.’
‘I cannot bear to think that he will go to his grave believing I had forsaken him,’ Frances replied miserably. ‘If it had not been for that devil—’ She stopped short, remembering the conversation they had had about Buckingham more than three years earlier.
Anne smiled. ‘You may speak freely here. I harbour no prejudice, so far removed from the heart of affairs.’
‘But Your Grace once spoke in favour of Buckingham. I would not wish to cause offence.’
‘I observed only that the young marquess may not be all that he seems,’ Anne replied. ‘That is very different from cherishing any affection for him.’
‘And yet you said he could be our salvation,’ Frances persisted. ‘I have puzzled over your words ever since.’
With an effort, the Queen rose to her feet and limped slowly to the window. She stood there in silence for some time, leaning heavily upon the gilded frame as she gazed down on the street below.
‘I would not say anything to place you in danger, Lady Frances,’ she said at last. ‘I ask only that you do not allow prejudice to blind you to what Buckingham is – to what he may be.’
Frances looked at her sharply. ‘My opinion is based upon his treatment of me – of my husband too. I bear no man ill will unless he has deserved it.’
Anne held up her hand in a placatory gesture. ‘I know what you have suffered at his hands, my dear. It is little wonder that you look upon him as a mortal enemy. But the same snake that has bitten you may sink its poison into one more deserving. My husband should have a care.’
Frances reeled at her words. That Buckingham