‘That is all they will have needed,’ the countess said, with a smirk.
Frances tried hard to focus on her cards. She must not read meaning into Lady Buckingham’s words where none existed.
‘Tell me, how are your sons, Lady Tyringham?’ she continued. ‘Boys are such a comfort to their mother, are they not? Certainly my George is to me.’
More than people realise. ‘And Lord Purbeck, of course. You must be looking forward to a first grandchild.’ She was pleased to see the countess’s lips purse again. That her eldest son was living apart from his new wife was one of the worst kept secrets at court.
‘Of course,’ Lady Buckingham replied briskly. ‘Though I feel sure that George will steal a march on him.’ She directed a sly look at Kate, who stared intently at her cards, a flush creeping up her neck. ‘I wonder that you do not spend more time at Tyringham Hall,’ she persisted, staring at Frances. ‘I am sure His Majesty would be only too glad to grant you leave – and my son could arrange it if there is any difficulty.’
‘You are most kind, madam,’ Frances said, ‘but I am not minded to go there at present. When the spring comes, perhaps. I have too much to occupy me here for now.’
‘Oh?’ The countess arched an eyebrow. ‘I cannot think what might entice you to remain here at Whitehall. You have so little company.’
Frances smiled at Kate. ‘Ah, but that which I have is worth keeping. I am blessed in my friends – my husband, too.’ She was glad to see Kate smile shyly back.
This silenced the countess for a time, and all three women appeared to turn their attention to the game. Frances resisted the temptation to steal another look into the courtyard. It was so dark now that she would not be able to see much anyway. Instead, she allowed her gaze to wander over to the group of young ladies who had accompanied their mistress. Most seemed rather bored and were picking at their dresses or slowly fanning themselves – though the meagre heat from the fire hardly warranted it. Then her eyes alighted upon one who was sitting slightly apart from the rest. She was a good deal younger and appeared ill at ease. When the girl raised her eyes, Frances felt sure she had seen her somewhere before.
The clatter of hoofs in the courtyard distracted her. The countess was first to the window, pushing past Frances in her eagerness. ‘My son has returned!’ she exclaimed joyfully. ‘Excuse me, Lady Katherine, but I must go and greet him. Perhaps you would like to come with me.’
Kate sent Frances a panicked look.
‘I promised Lady Katherine that I would help her dress for dinner,’ Frances said, with a smile. ‘I had not realised it had grown so late.’
‘There is plenty of time,’ the countess retorted, craning her neck for a better view of the courtyard. ‘Besides,’ she turned to face them now, with a sly smile, ‘I am sure you must be anxious to see your father.’
Frances closed her eyes.
‘My father?’ Kate whispered, growing pale.
‘Why, yes,’ Lady Buckingham replied scornfully. ‘I wonder that you look so amazed. You have expected him for long enough – as have we all.’ She looked from Kate to Frances, as if to make sure that her words had hit their mark, then swept past them and strode along the gallery.
Frances saw her own horror reflected in Kate’s eyes as they stared at each other, then hastened in her wake.
CHAPTER 39
2 February
Frances shivered, cowering against the thick yew hedge, as if it might warm as well as conceal her. The chapel bell had long since struck the hour. Her fear that something had happened to prevent Lord Rutland from coming increased with every passing minute.
She knew they were taking a risk in meeting. Buckingham’s attendants had kept constant watch on them since Lord Rutland’s return to court. The marquess and his mother would not let him escape their clutches a second time – or his precious son. Kate had told her that her little brother was beginning to settle after the fright of his father’s arrest at Waltham. Buckingham had been careful not to use that word, of course: he had simply been escorting the earl to court. That Lord Rutland had been heading northwards, away from London, had not been mentioned. As far as the King was concerned, the meeting had been entirely fortuitous. Thomas told her that Buckingham and the earl had been waiting for the royal party at Waltham Abbey when it arrived.
‘Forgive me, Lady Tyringham.’
Frances had not heard Lord Rutland approach. A light rain had begun to fall and his hair already hung limply beneath his hat. ‘How is your son, my lord?’
He gave a shrug. ‘Better, I think – though still very fretful. Kate is with him now. Her presence calms him greatly. She is so gentle, so patient . . .’ His voice trailed off and Frances looked away until he had composed himself.
‘I have brought some more,’ she said quietly, pressing the small glass phial into his hand. ‘Use it as before, mixing it into his broth so that he does not taste it.’ Or mention it, she thought. With Buckingham and his mother paying such regular visits to the boy, she was anxious to ensure that he said nothing that might excite their suspicions.
‘Thank you.’ He grasped her hand as he took the tincture. His fingers felt warm, despite the chill night air. ‘I know what danger you place yourself in by helping my boy. I owe you an even greater debt now.’
‘His recovery is the only reward I seek. Has Dr Lambe attended him yet?’
Her friend shook his head. ‘No. But I fear it cannot be long. The King sent a message this morning, enquiring after my son and recommending the services of Lady Buckingham’s physician.’
‘It is a recommendation only. He cannot force you to comply.’ Even as she spoke the words, she knew them to be false. A refusal would cause offence at a time when Lord Rutland’s favour with the King was already diminishing.
‘I would do anything to protect my poor boy,’ he said. ‘If I cannot ignore His Majesty’s recommendation, then I will at least ensure that I am with him when Lambe presents himself.’
‘If he attempts to administer any remedies, you must accept them gratefully and promise to give them to Lord Ros yourself. Then bring them to me as soon as you are able, and I will replace them with my own.’
‘You truly believe that he means to poison my son?’
Frances knew she must not allow her view of Buckingham and his mother to cloud her judgement. But if Lambe nursed the boy back to health, it would surely destroy their schemes to seize the Rutland fortune. ‘I can see no other reason why they would go to such lengths to have your son brought to Whitehall. You know how much Buckingham stands to gain if he marries Lady Katherine and she becomes your sole heir.’
Lord Rutland nodded grimly. ‘He will stop at nothing in his pursuit of riches and power. But I would rather be damned to hell than see poor Kate married to such a devil.’
Frances placed her hands over his. ‘We must go back now, but send word as soon as Lambe has visited.’
Frances had examined Dr Lambe’s tincture carefully after Kate had slipped it into her hand during a walk in the gardens two days before. She had recognised the smell of rue straight away. It had contained horehound, too, and perhaps a little betony. All as harmless as they were ineffective against the young lord’s malady. She had even placed a tiny drop on her tongue, to make sure. The physician had given Lord Rutland just a small amount of the remedy, so Frances knew he would soon return with more. She would examine that just as carefully.