On the fifteenth day of June, six months after the wedding, I returned to London to help Frankie fulfill her promises to Weston. I tramped up the stairs to Larkin’s studio trailed by two of Frankie’s maids, half-buried beneath bulky linen sacks containing the clothes she had worn to her brother Thomas’s wedding. Larkin had need of them to complete Frankie’s portrait, for only the head and hands were finished. The bright June sun made it hard to find my footing: now blinded, now in darkness.

The painter greeted me quietly and led me to a life-sized wooden figure in the corner where once had stood the covered portraits so disturbing to Frankie’s mother, now hanging in the long galleries of Howard enemies. Accustomed to the comfort and peace of the countryside, I thoroughly disliked coming back to London and gave my whole attention to the task at hand, the sooner to be finished with it.

I paid no heed to the small knot of people in the studio and waved the servants forward as Larkin undid the buckles holding the mannequin together. He proffered a wooden arm for me to thread through the armholes of the bodice I had pulled from its protective sack. A waft of Frankie’s perfume, Aqua Mellis, provoked in me the most curious and powerful sensation that the mannequin would transform into my friend once it was fully dressed. I could almost hear her laugh.

As I dressed the dummy, I remembered how beautiful Frankie had looked at her brother’s wedding, dancing with Robin. She had stolen attention away from the bride, who after all was only a child. My fears about the depth of Carr’s love had faded. They appeared so happy together that even Queen Anna had been moved to smile upon them, though the King’s love of his favorite showed no sign of abating.

As for my fears that our crimes would be discovered, they too were receding. In the nine months since Overbury’s death, few had mentioned Carr’s erstwhile closest companion, not even Carr himself.

“How soon will the portrait be finished?” I asked Larkin.

“I had hoped it would be delivered by the end of next month, but I have another to do in a hurry,” he said, nodding at the group fussing around the huge chair that he used as a prop and that Frankie herself had leaned upon. As I looked over, I noticed, with a little shock of surprise and pleasure, that Mr. Palmer was among them. He saw me at the same moment and at once came over.