“If you treat him with disdain you will not keep in his good grace,” said her mother, noting the return of Essex’s scowl. “His mood seemed briefly improved.” Frankie, feeling cold and faint, vomited onto the grass. The crowd moved back, their pleasure in the day further heightened by the Countess’s display and the sight of the Earl of Essex storming away toward the palace buildings.

“Are you with child?” asked her mother. Frankie wiped her mouth with her handkerchief and allowed the Countess, alight with self-importance at the thought of her first grandchild, to steer her toward the palace. Frankie’s two sisters fell in behind with long faces.

Her father and great-uncle bowed as they passed. Behind them stood Sir Robert Carr, his cape lined in silk the same color as her favor, laughing with the Earl of Dunbar. She sensed him look at her but hid behind her fan, convinced that he would notice her humiliation.

For three days Frankie plastered the courtier’s mask to her face as the nation celebrated its new Prince of Wales. She watched the great sea fight on the Thames and a river pageant with Ancient Britain as its theme. She painted herself blue from head to toe and performed in Queen Anna’s masque, as the river that runs through the county of Essex. She danced at parties and, on the final night, gazed with the whole city at the fireworks that lit up the sky and the water around her, but she saw only false stars.

“God will judge him,” I told her.

“I hope so,” she replied, without conviction. She looked at me and hesitated; did she expect me to treat her differently? She was defiant, ready to assert her rank if I showed condescension; but since George’s death I too had felt weak, humiliated by my sudden poverty and the behavior of my son as well as, on occasion, my lover. I was frightened that she would sense the loss of respect I had suffered, which sometimes left me dull and angry, and discard me. Her violation by Essex made me useful to her again, though what sort of sinful-hearted friend was I to think that way?

She was shivering with the effect of the willow-bark decoction.

“Go to the Court of Arches. Tell your family what has happened.”

“Let the world know of my shame? Essex would grow strong on it.”

“They might allow you to separate from bed and board.”

“Then I will be put out to pasture somewhere distant.”

“Could you bear that?”

“I would be away from everyone I know. It is hard to be always alone.”