“Whether by poison or smothering or other means, Sir Thomas Overbury died at the hand of Richard Weston with your complicity. Perhaps the Countess encouraged her great-uncle, Lord Northampton, to rid her of him? What are the late Earl’s dealings in this? There is no little suspicion cast upon him.”

“As God knows everything, Dr. Whiting, it cannot be He who seeks information.”

He looked at me, clearly appraising how to approach so brave-mouthed a woman. Finally, he sat, perhaps hoping to appear more friendly.

“When I took Richard Weston’s confession, he said the King’s justice is ‘a net for small fishes.’ Do you feel the same?”

Tears pricked and fell but I paid them no heed. “You saw Weston? Did he speak harshly of me? Was his son present at … Did he make a good end?” How baffling it felt for this stranger to have seen my near-constant companion more recently than had I. But Dr. Whiting would not be drawn to tell me more, and perhaps that was wise on his part.

“Please answer my question,” he said.

“Justice is dispensed at the whim of the King: he dislikes women and knows none of the poorer sort, so certainly it must pain him less to punish them.”

“And what of Lord Northampton in this business?” It was irritating Dr. Whiting that I spoke in general terms when he wanted specific moments to take back to Lord Coke, to prove the guilt of the King’s closest advisers.

“There was never anybody had a window into Lord Northampton’s mind, nor his heart either,” I said, but I thought he was more to blame for Overbury’s death than Frankie and I had realized at the time. Since hearing his letters read out at my trial, I believed he used Frankie to cover his own killing of Overbury, so that Carr could be brought into the Howard sphere. Even so, I had intended to murder Overbury. I made great efforts to that effect and, in so doing, had caused Weston’s death. I deserved to die, in that there was no injustice, although I prayed Frankie could still save me.

“Perhaps so, but was it he who had Overbury killed?”

“I have told Lord Coke all I know.” Even talking about a dead man might somehow condemn Frankie.

“Would it ease your tongue to confess to a Papist priest? I have authority to release one from prison, although I consider it not in your best interests.” I shook my head. “You have been proven guilty and condemned to hang. What will you confess?”

“I have been declared guilty. There was no proof.” I took Mistress Bowdlery’s handkerchief from my sleeve and twisted it between my fingers. “I confess only the truth I have learned: that there can be no freedom when you love. One prevents the other.”

“You attempt philosophy with me?”