For long hours Frankie and I worried over Robin’s surprising and undignified behavior toward Villiers and increasingly toward the King himself. After the progress we returned to Suffolk, but by spring, Carr’s distress at the rapid rise of George Villiers truly alarmed us. Frankie decided to move to her elder sister’s house at Rotherfield Greys, near the busy Thames port of Henley, so that she could travel to Court more easily to shore up her husband. For me, the move had a more pleasing aspect, for Mr. Palmer had family in Oxfordshire. He paid us visits when Carr was at Greys, ostensibly to discuss artworks, but always he and I walked together. The children begged to be allowed to join us on these walks, for Mr. Palmer was a brilliant mimic, in particular of animals and birds and, sometimes, of myself, and we would laugh ourselves hoarse. I did not attempt to rush him into a proposal, I had learned that lesson, but allowed our friendship to grow at a pace that was natural to it. He had asked that I sit for him, that he might take my likeness—surely the act of a man in love?

Toward the end of April, after a week’s silence from Robin, we traveled by barge to Whitehall. The outer chamber in their apartment was crowded with people seeking his intercession with the King, but I noticed that they were less well-heeled than when Frankie and I were last there, lacking the connections to know that Carr had a rival who was winning the greater part of the King’s favor. The inner hall and receiving chamber were likewise busy, but Frankie acknowledged no one until we entered the privy chamber where her husband was seated at his table. Head resting in his hands, he was reading a letter, while behind him a group of advisers stood talking together.

“If you please,” said Frankie, standing at the door. The men rarely saw the Earl’s wife and it was with some reluctance that they left. I shut the door behind them and sat in the farthest window.

“My dearest,” said Frankie, crouching beside her husband’s chair to look up into his face, taking his hands in hers.

“You here?” he said, not moving to embrace her or even to smile.

“I could not leave you to face these trials alone,” said Frankie. “But be reassured, my darling, that Villiers cannot rival the long and deep affection that exists between you and your King, by whom you have been favored above all others for ten years and who has looked to your care since you were born; you are of the same nation, you speak his tongue. Go to him. Apologize for your anger and swear it was born of love. His feelings for you will increase tenfold.”

Carr stood abruptly and glared down at his crouching wife.