“I will prepare a philtrous powder for use when the moon is not full and the stars and planets are in correct alignment. I will write the dates down for you and you must keep to them strictly. Stir the powder into strong wine but only a small measure or his limbs will shake. It will render Sir Arthur desirous but you must not give yourself to him until he has proposed.”

“When will we be married?”

“The charts rarely give specific answers; here I see only that you will not make forty.” His tone was so jocular the comment passed me by with little impact as he followed it with, “Or you will live to be very, very old. But I see that you will be taken care of.”

I suddenly had hundreds of questions, about the children, Mary’s cough, Barbara’s prospects, how I was to survive until Arthur proposed, but Forman turned to Frankie’s chart. She took my place and I hers. The Palace of Whitehall and the great houses on the Strand were silhouetted darkly against the night sky, a few of their windows faintly glowing. There were many lanterns on the river but the moon and stars hid themselves behind cloud.

“Do you wish to escape your marriage because there is someone else you love?”

“There is one I like, but my family loathe him.”

“Is it for him you turn your husband away?”

“Not at all. Are you acquainted with my husband?”

“I have not had the pleasure…”

“There would be no pleasure in it, I assure you. He has abused and violated me in every possible manner. His hatred for me stems from the fact that my family called for the execution of his father for treason. How can I overcome that?”

Forman put down his pen and looked directly at Frankie. “It seems the Devil has scoured the seeds of forgiveness from your husband’s soul. Should he be exorcised?”

“He does not believe himself at fault.”

“He thinks witchcraft holds down his member?”

“He does not consider fault at all, except that it be mine. He hates me.”

“And you him?”

“Recently.”

“Do you wish him dead?”

Frankie stood abruptly. “What are you saying?”

“Calm, sit, sit…” said Forman, pulling the great ring off his finger and walking around his desk to show it to Frankie. She stepped back.