“Indeed so,” interrupted Lord Northampton. “With the passing of our cousin Salisbury and Prince Henry, God rest their souls, Robert Carr is now the primum mobile by whose motion all the other spheres must move or else stand still.” Which was why Northampton was prepared to help Frankie rid herself of Essex; no other marriage could be as advantageous to the Howards as an alliance to the King’s favorite.

“That mincing Scot in our family?” shouted Lord Suffolk, standing up. Frankie stepped closer to me. “Are your wits all eaten by fever? A page whose every penny is spent on the adornment of his body and the frizzing of his hair? I cannot understand a word that passes his lips. I wouldn’t have him muck out my horses. How dare he address my daughter!”

“Quite, husband, quite. He’s been given Raleigh’s home, Westmorland’s land, he uses Sir Thomas Overbury’s wit and now he would take another man’s wife; nothing his own but ambition. I will have no further part in this business. Whatever plot you are hatching, my Lord Northampton, I do not give it my blessing, and for you—you who have given more succor to good Catholic families in this realm than any other man—to seek the divorce of your own great-niece, I would not have thought it possible. I wonder if you are quite well.”

“We must indeed consider the matter of Sir Thomas Overbury,” said Lord Northampton, entirely unmoved by her speech.

“That vicious weasel? Why?” asked Frankie’s father, growing increasingly distressed.

“He has overstepped himself,” said Lord Northampton. “Since returning to Court he brags that, were it not for him, Carr would have neither fortune, wit nor reputation.”

“Probably true,” acceded Frankie’s father.

“‘Carr leads the King but Overbury leads Carr’ is a pretty saying that has come to the King’s ears.” Although his expression changed not a jot, it was clear that Lord Northampton himself was the conduit. “The King dislikes Overbury for too conceited a carriage of his recent good fortune. His best friends speak indifferently of him. He is an insolent, thrasonical man, possessed by ambition and vainglory. He is naught and corrupt. He caused a rift between myself and Sir Richard Morrison for which I soundly rebuked him.”

“He uses Carr for his own advancement,” agreed Frankie.

Her father began to splutter again. “Do you meddle now in politics, Frankie? Will you be carrying a sword next?”

“Overbury befriended Carr when the young Scot was an insignificant page with no expectations,” said Lord Northampton, ignoring his nephew. “He is your greatest rival, Frances, for his success depends entirely on Carr’s love.”

Lord Suffolk sank onto his chair and rubbed his eyes, as if to scrub away the thought of Carr loving Overbury. “How is it possible?” he said, to no one in particular.