“Or worse, they will force me to return to Essex, to disprove the rumors that I want him dead.”

Wretchedness and impatience had driven her to ignore my counsel and resort to foolish measures. I wanted to save her from rashness as she had saved me from destitution, but still I thanked my angel guardian that Arthur was to relieve me of dependence on her. Frankie would always be in my soul, but I would soon be free from the scandal and gossip that followed her like begging children.

A high servant, probably Lord Northampton’s steward, entered the chamber. “The Lord Northampton calls the Countess of Essex,” he bellowed. Even those too polite to do so before now turned to stare at us.

“Your hat is brazen,” I said. “You will annoy them with such a display.”

Frankie began unpinning it with clumsy fingers. I swapped it for my own more modest confection.

“Shall I wait for you?” I asked.

Frankie mumbled something.

“What?”

“You are summoned also but I will tell them you had nothing to do with it,” she said, setting off behind the steward. My heart began beating fit to jump out of my chest as I followed her the length of the gallery to a set of ornate double doors. At our feet lay the pelt of the leopard from the Tower.

“She didn’t last long,” muttered Frankie. She stepped high over the dead creature so that even her hems did not brush it. I followed, hoping to be sent away once Frankie had described my attempts to stop her calling for Mary Woods.

Lord Northampton sat in a large chair at the head of a long table. His dark eyes, watery with age, were watchful and his hands, strangers to plow and sword, stood out against his black robes. To his left sat Frankie’s father, a fat, profligate but largely genial man, known as overly indulgent of the women in his family, especially Frankie. Behind him, beside the fireplace, stood her mother.

Lord Northampton shifted, wincing slightly as if every movement caused him pain. I wondered if he wore a hair shirt or spiked belt under his robes. He frowned at the hat on my head but otherwise ignored me. I felt very sick.

“Tell us you have never set eyes on Mary Woods,” he said to Frankie.

Her father twisted to glare at his wife, whose alchemical experiments were well known. He clearly felt she was to blame for Frankie’s predicament, but she ignored him.

“I asked her to attend upon me once,” said Frankie.

“And after this short acquaintance you gave her your diamond ring and a commission to poison your husband?”

“I never asked her to poison him!” cried Frankie. “I gave her my ring as surety that I would pay her three shillings, as Mistress Turner is my witness.”

Lord Northampton stared at me and I nodded.