“I want us to be together in God’s sight,” she said, very quietly.

Carr went to her then and stroked her hair. “I am afraid for you, is all. You … we must tread very carefully. The Court is alive with vipers, many with a grudge toward your family.” She turned and rested against him like a hawk on the wind.

For several hours they talked quietly and I lay, dozing, on a folded dust sheet, thinking of all the things I had to do for the morrow. Each time I suggested we leave, one or other of them begged me to stay a little longer. They had been apart for weeks and had much to discuss, including the possible annulment, which held much danger but perhaps also a chance for their happiness.

It was nearly midnight when Carr finally put on his cloak and we accompanied Frankie to her apartment. After that, he offered me his coach to take me home, by way of thanks for my patience, but I refused, not wanting the inhabitants of my street woken by the sound of a carriage. What tittle-tattle would follow the sight of me arriving home after curfew in a nobleman’s conveyance?

As we walked together through the dark courtyards of the palace, slippery with the moss and slime of winter months, I pictured myself at the door to Arthur’s manor, looking at the children running through his fields to the wide, sunlit horizons beyond. He had described to me the air of the place, perfumed by Persian roses he had planted all along the front of the house, and the avenue of beech that separated his home from the rest of the world.

“You!”

I was wrenched from dreaming by Sir Thomas Overbury, who stood not ten paces away. As his eyes moved from Carr to me, his choler appeared to double. He shouted, for the whole palace to hear: “That is her procuress! You’ve been with that base woman!”

A knot of servants standing a few paces behind Overbury fell silent. Great heat flared up inside me. Overbury’s insult to me was grave, but that offered Frankie was unpardonable, as was clear from the servants’ shocked faces.

Carr walked up to Overbury, waving at the servants to leave as he did so. Overbury held a large scroll in one hand but with the other he gripped Carr’s arm, shouting all the while.

“I’ve been working all night on this…” He shook the parchment under Carr’s nose. “I search in vain for you to sign it, worry what has befallen you, and all the while you’ve been lying with that notorious baggage … Do you not know that the value of property is diminished if shared?”

“I hope you have no plans for the morrow,” Carr said loudly, turning to me, “you’ll be fair beat.”