“It is he,” said the lady, flushing with pride and opening the jewel to hold out the miniature within for Frankie’s inspection. She praised the child and the fine workmanship of the limner and jeweler. In return, Lady Carew praised Frankie’s own valuable chain. Frankie made to go but Lady Carew stopped her, blushing furiously.

“My lady, we have been told to inspect your chamber before we begin, I am sorry.”

“Do not be sorry, Lady Carew, I am happy to oblige. Mistress Turner, would you be kind enough to show Lady Carew into the bedchamber? Does any other lady need to accompany you?” asked Frankie. In the end, I showed Lady Carew and a midwife into Frankie’s chamber. Lady Carew gave it no more than a cursory glance but the midwife took her time. She moved the arras to check that no one hid behind and spotted the door into the closet. My stomach clenched but the midwife stopped short of opening the presses in there. She finally nodded to me and we returned to the parlor.

“To save us all from great distress, the noble lady may be veiled,” said Lady Carew, cringing with embarrassment. “And no questions shall be put to the Countess during her ordeal, but she shall return to this room afterward if there be any matters to discuss. These are the orders of the Commission,” she said, and I was sure that the Earl of Northampton had exerted his influence to ensure them.

Frankie and I withdrew to the closet off the bedchamber where I retrieved Janet from the linen press and helped Frankie into it, removing her necklace, which I gave to the girl to put on. After closing the closet door, I helped Janet to lie on the bed and pulled a veil over her head, making sure that it entirely hid her face and neck and that only the gold chain fell below it.

I opened the door to the inspectors. The midwives gathered at the foot of the bed but the noble mothers hovered by the door. I stood at the head, ready to calm the girl, or even put a hand over her mouth should she cry out.

“If it please you, m’lady,” said the midwife who appeared to be in charge. The noble ladies turned their backs as one while Janet Monson slid further down the bed and raised her knees. I was careful to keep the veil in place and patted the girl’s shoulder as the midwife pulled up her skirts to reveal two white legs. She held her candle close, with care not to burn the skin, and the midwife carefully pushed two fingers through the bush of dark hair and into the private place. The legs on the bed twitched in surprise and stiffened, but no noise came from the veiled figure. The midwife moved her fingers around briefly and then withdrew them, wiping them carefully on a damp cloth.