Raleigh clicked his tongue and affected a wounded expression. ‘You think me so faithless a subject, my lady? No, I will be true to my word. King James is plagued by fear that his rival the King of Spain will reach the city first. I have therefore pledged to intercept Philip’s fleet before it leaves the port at Cádiz.’
‘Intercept . . . or join it, perhaps,’ Frances wondered.
Raleigh did not answer at first, but his eyes glistened with triumph. ‘Your mind is as sharp as ever, my dear,’ he said eventually. ‘The expedition to El Dorado will indeed be a joint venture between King Philip and me. The gold that we find there will enable us to assemble the mightiest fleet in history. King James’s navy will be as child’s boats fashioned from parchment. We will blow it away – thus,’ he said, puffing out one of the candles on the fireplace.
‘Nobody has yet succeeded in finding the City of Gold,’ Frances pointed out. ‘You yourself failed more than twenty years ago.’
Sir Walter’s smile did not waver. ‘Ah, but I discovered enough to convince me of its existence. I will not fail a third time. And with its riches, King Philip and I will set James’s son Charles upon the throne.’
Frances thought of the pale-faced young man whom she had seen at the feast three weeks before. Though he was his father’s heir, she could not imagine him ever growing in strength enough to wield power over the kingdom. But perhaps therein lay his appeal for Philip: the boy would be little more than a puppet, just as his elder sister Elizabeth would have been if the Powder Treason had succeeded. ‘What has this to do with me?’ she persisted, her voice edged with impatience.
‘At present, the King’s mistrust of me is proving stronger than his desire for riches. I require those who wield influence to speak on my behalf.’
Frances looked doubtful. ‘You cannot think that I enjoy such influence. Even when I served his daughter, I was powerless to sway his opinions.’
Sir Walter sucked at his pipe. ‘Ah, but the same is not true of your husband, I think.’
‘I will not involve Thomas in this,’ she snapped. ‘I returned to court to help him, not plunge him into even greater danger.’ She stopped, angry with herself for having said that much.
Raleigh’s eyes searched hers, but he did not press her to explain. ‘Any man would rejoice to have such a faithful wife,’ he said, without a trace of irony. ‘But Sir Thomas is not the only man who has the King’s ear. I have heard much of young Villiers.’
Frances sniffed. ‘You cannot hope for assistance from that quarter. Sir George serves only himself.’
Raleigh blew out another long plume of smoke. ‘Then I must find a way to persuade him that he stands to gain from the expedition,’ he mused, almost to himself. ‘The dazzle of gold has blinded many a man to the darkness that lies at its core, Lady Frances.’
‘I am so glad to see you,’ Frances said as she buried her face in her husband’s chest. She felt his lips against her scalp as he wound her hair around his fingers.
Thomas had been waiting for her when she had returned from her customary afternoon walk in the palace gardens. She had felt almost giddy with relief and joy to see him standing there, arms outstretched.
‘I had not dared to hope it would be so soon,’ he replied. ‘We had only three days’ hunting, once the rains had abated, and there was the promise of many more. But the King seemed suddenly anxious to return to London.’
‘Was it the news of Arbella’s death?’ she asked, trailing her fingers idly down his back.
‘I did not expect it to have reached the court so soon,’ Thomas remarked. ‘The King plans to announce it at this evening’s feast.’
Frances drew away so that she could look at him as she spoke. She had thought of keeping it from him, but she knew from bitter experience how secrets gnawed at the intimacy between them. ‘I only know of it because I was summoned to attend her.’
Thomas grew pale at her words. ‘Frances, no!’
‘Please,’ she said, clasping his hands in hers. ‘I did not know whom I was going to see. Her servant came here in the middle of the night and begged me to accompany her. You know that I cannot forsake the skills that God gave me.’
Her husband still looked aghast, but she continued before he could interrupt, telling him of Arbella’s wasted limbs, of the words she had spoken before she died, of her visit to Raleigh. When at last she had finished, he remained silent for so long that she wished she had kept her counsel. But something in his expression told her that he did not share the shock she had experienced upon first hearing the revelations.
At length, he went to the table and poured two glasses of wine. He held one out to her, then sank onto a chair next to the fire. She moved to join him, trying to push down her mounting unease.
‘I am glad that you chose to confide in me this time,’ he began, ‘but it brings shame on me too.’ He sipped his wine. Frances brought her glass to her lips, though her throat felt too tight to swallow. ‘I knew something of this voyage Raleigh is planning. I overheard the King speak of it to Villiers and made some discreet enquiries. It is many years since I was in Flanders, but I have acquaintances there still.’
Frances felt as if she was looking at a stranger. She knew that her husband had spent time in Flanders, quietly garnering support for Tom and his fellow plotters. But the pledge he had made her take on their marriage had been enough to convince her that he, too, would sever all contact with that part of his life.
‘Do not think I have deceived you all these years,’ he went on. ‘It was the first time that I have revived such contact. What I learned was enough to make me think I had cause to doubt Raleigh’s professed purpose in making this voyage – and you have confirmed it.’
‘He surely has no hope of success,’ Frances said. ‘Even if the King could be persuaded to release him, there is little reason to suppose that the Spanish will stir themselves for an invasion – or that Seymour has gathered the army he boasts about.’
‘I have proof of that, at least,’ her husband replied. ‘Arbella’s husband has put his time in exile to profitable use, it seems.’ He took another sip. ‘And Philip has already amassed a huge fleet at Cádiz.’
Frances fell back in her chair. This was the moment for which all of England’s Catholic subjects had been poised since the heretical King had taken the throne. Once she had counted herself among them. But that part of her had died with Prince Henry. Ever since she had been content to keep her faith only in her heart – as Thomas had urged her. She looked at him now. Although his brow was creased with concern, she saw that his eyes were alight with a fervour that made her blood run cold.
CHAPTER 12
3 October
It was an unseasonably warm day and the late summer flowers that had been wilting on their stems seemed to open their blooms to the sun. Frances inhaled their heady fragrance as she strolled alongside the neatly kept borders. She had been delighted at Sir Francis Bacon’s invitation to join him on an excursion to St James’s Park. They had seen each other often since their first meeting a month before. Her new friend had been so kind and attentive, showing such genuine interest in her thoughts and opinions, that her initial shyness had soon faded.