Northampton House, at Charing Cross, was newly finished. Many humbler dwellings had been razed to accommodate its grandeur, which was significantly greater and more proximate to Whitehall Palace than that of the Cecil mansion, Salisbury House, situated further east along the Strand. For all that Northampton and Salisbury had been allies, they were also the greatest of rivals. As Northampton had no wife or children, he could spend all his money, and more, on himself.

I called into the porter’s lodge and was taken by a servant across the huge courtyard, surrounded on each side by wings of the house. The main façade had an open loggia along its length, as if this country had good enough weather to require shade. Instead of passing through the grand doorway at its center, more magnificent than anything I had seen at the Palace of Whitehall, we turned right under the loggia to the corner tower. We climbed two flights of tightly twisting stairs and emerged into an impressive gallery that occupied the entire length of the wing. Northampton’s clients, and others seeking favor, stood about, talking quietly and looking at the views. Large windows faced Westminster, and others on the south looked over formal gardens to the river and beyond, to Lambeth Marshes. It unsettled me that Lord Northampton’s outlook included the house of Simon Forman. Outlined against the view was Frankie. I noted at once that she was dressed very finely, in the boldest of my designs, with a tall hat made taller with long plumes; but as she turned, I saw that deep shadows lined the sockets of her eyes.

“Mary Woods has made a scandal and been arrested,” she said, steering me to the end of the room where there were fewer people. I could smell Frankie’s sweat. “She cozened me of my ring and then left for Norfolk, so I sent a man after her but she had already sold it for a pittance in London. He called the Justice of the Peace there and she defended herself by saying the ring was payment from me, claiming I asked her to murder my husband.”

“She has accused you before a justice?”

“It is her word against mine.”

“She had your ring.”

“I could have said she stole it but my man told the Justice that I gave Mary the jewel for safekeeping before a masque when she was working as a laundress at Salisbury House. But now they know Mary never worked there, so they have clept him up too.”

“Why did he say such a thing? There have been no masques since the Prince’s death.”

Frankie looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t think they’d know that so far from London.”

I fought down my rage at her idiocy.

“My parents are here, with my great-uncle.”

“They will kill you and throw your body in the Thames,” I said.