“Divorce is not possible for the English, with the rarest exceptions,” said Lord Northampton. “However, if one studies the decretals relating to matrimony advanced by Pope Gregory the Ninth in the thirteenth century…” here Frankie’s father cleared his throat “… by which term, ‘decretals,’ I mean a papal decree concerning a point of canon law. It is stated that if a husband testifies under oath that he is impotent, and his wife confirms his admission, then their marriage can be annulled. Of course, should Essex later put a child on another woman, then he will have committed perjury and will be forced to take Frances back.”

“I can testify that Essex is impotent,” she said.

“Only a man’s testimony is taken into account. A woman can only confirm,” replied Lord Northampton.

“Why would any man admit impotency if he is thereby barred from taking another wife for fear he prove virile with her?” she asked.

“Indeed, that is the difficulty,” nodded Lord Northampton. “However, in his commentary, Thomas Aquinas provides us with a path through the maze. He states that if a man and wife have lived together three years without consummating their marriage, this could be taken as proof that the husband is victim to witchcraft. A man, being a rational being, has control of his body unless otherwise tampered with by some external force, such as a witch. The Church would then be able to dissolve the marriage and both husband and wife would be free to remarry, on the supposition that the witchcraft concerned only the relations between the man and his wife, not with another woman he might marry subsequently. Both you and Essex could agree to that, I suppose?”

Frankie appeared unsure.

“Might people not assume that it was I who encouraged a witch to subject my husband to evil influences?”

“It would be a brave man who accused a Howard of maleficum,” snorted Lord Suffolk, seeming to forget that even as he spoke a woman lay in prison for theft of a diamond ring used by Frankie to secure services of a magical nature. I wondered anew that this man, with wits so few, had charge of the country. The Earl of Northampton, on the other hand, had the memory of a wronged fishwife. He stared at Frankie.

“Your question is a sensible one, Frances, but I fear only you know the answer to it. If people did, as you fear, assume it was you who subjected Lord Essex to maleficum, would they have reason? Or, perhaps more important, would they have evidence beyond the ring you gave to Mary Woods?”