“My lord, I offer myself with utmost humility and love to be at your service in ’soever which ways you command of me.” He bowed so low and gracefully that he looked more swan than human. The King’s retinue was awash with gossip about this young god; the rumor that he had learned dancing and etiquette at the French Court was clearly true.

Frankie and I smiled warmly at the young beauty and at each other, delighted that Carr should be honored in this way. With George Villiers on the King’s arm, Carr would have more time for Frankie, for the burdens of state and for his own leisure.

“I will have none of your service and you shall have none of my favor! If I can, I will break your neck. Of that, be confident!” Carr shouted, so loudly that a hush fell over the anteroom. George Villiers was brave enough not to recoil, but Frankie and I did, afraid a fight would ensue. Carr began waving his arms as if shooing away a herd of inquisitive heifers. Utterly astounded, Villiers backed toward the door, offering Frankie and me a quick bow before fleeing.

“My lord, what ails you?” asked his wife. “Villiers offers you his loyalty.”

“I do not want it,” he spat, “nor any advice from you. Leave me.”

For the rest of that year and into the next, the Court was more vile than ever Frankie or I had known it. One moment the King would favor Villiers, the next Carr. With Lord Salisbury and Lord Northampton dead, it seemed the King was trying to rebalance his Court, curbing the power of the Howard family by playing them off against the Essex crew. No business could be transacted; clients did not know whom to follow. Howards held every major post, yet the Essex camp looked confident that this was about to change. And with Overbury dead, Carr had only Frankie’s father, whose understanding of politics was deficient, to lean on. The Earl of Essex and his allies sought to topple the Howards completely, and truly they had discovered a magnificent weapon.