“Between ourselves, Mistress Turner, I see little justice in haranguing a woman denied a lawyer, who has not even a feather to record the accusations against her nor a stool on which to sit. To speak in public was case enough against you at the trial. But the Lord Northampton? The Lord Carr? Why do you suffer in their place now?”

I do not think Dr. Whiting understood that the friendship between Frankie and me was powerful enough to determine the course of our actions; perhaps he had no friend like that or, I suspect, thought women too doltish to experience profound sentiment for any creatures other than their own children. But over the three days of confession, so intimate in their sadness, he came to know me and, I think, to like me. He brought me a Bible, in English, the first that I had read. We had one at home but it was in Latin and only George could read it. When I still attended secret mass the priest read to us, but again in Latin.

“As bestower of life, it is a mother’s responsibility to guide her children and lead them to God,” said Dr. Whiting, “and how can she acquit herself of this task without the aid of His word? I have marked out certain passages for you. Spiritual comfort is greater than that bought with money and power.”

Alderman Smith visited the cell often, to be sure that Dr. Whiting did not pressure me unduly; he brought coals or warm caudles for which he did not ask payment. Twice he brought me notes from Mr. Palmer, in defiance of Lord Coke’s orders. The short letters offered me encouragement, detailed his efforts to procure my release as he was convinced of my innocence, and expressed his love. He told me that he wanted me for his wife, if I would have him. If I would have him! He must have heard Lord Coke’s denunciation of me as everything most evil in this world, and still he would marry me. His words did much to calm me but I remembered Baron Sanquhar, looking in vain to the steps of the scaffold, waiting for a pardon from the King. I tried not to hope, but of course it was impossible, for there was so much love still in me for my children, for Frankie and her child to come, for the good Mr. Palmer, for the grandchildren I might hold, for every little detail of the world that had become so precious in the short time left to me.

On the fourth day Dr. Whiting arrived looking very tired. “Mistress Turner, it is my heavy duty to inform you that your execution is set for the morning.” My body jerked in violent spasms, as if shoved from all sides by unseen hands. It lasted only a few moments, an involuntary expression of my shame and terror at so humiliating and painful an end.