“My love, it is pure invention! They say that Weston could have killed Overbury with poisons from an apothecary called Franklin. It seems this Franklin is mad with the French pox and will say anything to anybody. You must tell him to keep his mouth shut.”

Carr stared at his wife as if she were made of wax and was melting before his eyes. She stepped toward him, but he flinched.

“Be calm, my love,” she said.

Before he could reply there was a knock at the door.

“It will be Franklin,” Frankie said. “Talk sternly to him, husband.”

“Here?” said Carr. “A man accused of abetting murder, in the chambers of the King’s closest adviser? Do you want me hanged for treason?”

“Impress upon him the importance of silence,” Frankie said, touching his arm tenderly. Carr jerked away. I felt truly sorry for him, drawn into something of which he had no notion, that would bring him no good. I felt yet sorrier as I opened the door.

Carr stared, appalled by what manner of man was Franklin. His stench went before him and he was drunk. Carr gave his wife one long look, brimming with hurt and mystification, then excused himself to his privy chamber, shutting the door on her pleas.

Franklin spoke without invitation. “What’s amiss?” he asked, nodding at Frankie’s belly. I could not look upon him without picturing George’s cat, turning and mewling, as if the poor animal were still at my feet.

“Weston has been arrested,” said Frankie.

“Back to his old tricks, is he?” said Franklin, laughing.

I could contain myself no longer.

“You had better hope he says nothing to send you to the rope!”

Franklin looked confused.

“It’s not for me to worry about. Never my idea.”

“Lord save us,” I said, desperation worming its way in.

“My husband will save us,” said Frankie. “He will save us as long as we say nothing, admit to nothing. There is no evidence. Keep quiet, do you understand?”

Franklin shrugged his shoulders.

“Are you mad!” I shouted.

“You must deny everything,” Frankie repeated very slowly. “If you speak, you will be hanged.”

The wretch pretended to strangle himself and made his eyes bulge.

I stared at the strange performance, suddenly cold. I was back on my knees at Paul’s cross in the gray light of dawn.

“No, Frankie,” I said, very quietly, lifting my eyes to hers. “It is I shall hang for you both.”

25