‘And your growing brood, of course.’
His eyes lit with genuine warmth. ‘I have even more children than you, my lady. My father chose wisely. Catherine is the best of wives.’
‘Then you are fortunate indeed, my lord. Happiness is a rare blessing in most noble marriages.’ She had never met the Earl of Suffolk’s daughter but, as a member of the powerful Howard family, Catherine must have brought both political and financial advantage to her husband. ‘What brings you here at this time?’ she asked. ‘The Christmas celebrations are almost over.’
He did not answer but held out his arm so that they might walk on. At a fork in the path, he steered them towards the parkland rather than continuing to the palace as Frances had expected. Only when its walls were out of sight did he begin to speak.
‘I came here to find you, Lady Tyringham. It is more than ten years since this kingdom was saved by the death of that heretic prince.’
Frances turned sharply to look at him, but he held up his hand to silence her. ‘Have no fear. I do not mean to dwell upon the part you played in it – that must rest with your conscience. What concerns me – concerns all those of our faith – is what will happen when the King dies.’
‘Such talk is treason.’ Frances glanced around the deserted woodland. ‘I want no part of it.’
‘Please – hear me, Lady Tyringham,’ he urged, grabbing her arm as she made to leave. ‘What I have to say is of as much significance to you as to the kingdom.’
Frances wished that she could close her ears to his words, run far from this place. Many times since Lady Vaux’s visit she had felt haunted by the ghosts of her past. Now another was standing before her. Was this God’s way of punishing her for her sins?
‘The King’s health is beginning to fail – I hear he has lain sick all through the festivities.’
‘Of a cold – nothing more.’
‘He is an old man,’ Salisbury continued, as if she had not spoken, ‘and so steeped in vice and excess that he will hasten his own end, just as the late Queen predicted. All eyes must turn to his successor. Prince Charles has the makings of a fine king, but he cannot restore England to the Catholic faith alone. Heresy has taken such deep root that many would oppose it.’
Frances drew in a breath and waited. All of this felt horribly familiar.
‘The King of Spain has pledged to support our cause if the prince marries his daughter, the Infanta Maria.’
‘That is hardly a secret,’ Frances replied impatiently. ‘The Count de Gondomar first proposed the match more than two years ago and has been treating for it ever since.’
He spread his hands. ‘What you say is true, my lady, but he is privy to matters that the King is not. As soon as the alliance has been forged and the infanta has been installed as Charles’s queen, his master will send an army to bring all England’s heretics to heel.’
‘This again?’ Frances’s voice dripped with scorn. ‘How many times has a king of Spain promised to rescue those of our faith? We endured sixteen years of false hopes and empty promises from the old King Philip. Why should you believe his namesake is any different?’
‘Because I had the promise from his own lips,’ he replied, his eyes bright with fervour. ‘I have travelled a good deal further than Hatfield since I saw you last, Lady Frances. Venice, Lyon, Madrid . . .’ His voice trailed into silence. Frances was suddenly aware of the soft rustle of branches, the cawing of the rooks as they searched for food in the barren woodland. ‘You are right to be distrustful,’ he continued. ‘It was the same doubts that drove me to visit the Spanish court, to hear the pledge from the dying King – and gain this symbol of fidelity from his successor.’
Frances looked down at the heavy gold ring that was nestled in his palm. She had never seen such a ruby. Even in the gloom of the forest, it seemed to glow like the embers of a fire. ‘A pretty jewel,’ she said, ‘but on its own, it signifies little.’
A small smile. ‘I agree. If this were all, I would have nothing but a priceless gift from a foreign prince. But there is a good deal more. Prince Charles is a devout Catholic, though he has concealed it from his father, of course. Younger sons are always raised by their mothers – a tradition that the late Queen was careful to uphold.’
Frances knew this to be true, but scant progress had been made towards achieving Queen Anne’s dying wish that her son would marry a Catholic princess. She pushed down her rising irritation.
‘The prince is resolved upon this marriage, but his father wavers too much. We must rely upon others to bring it to pass,’ Salisbury continued. ‘There is only one man in this kingdom with enough power to achieve our ambitions.’
Buckingham. She knew the name before he spoke it. ‘You are a fool to believe that he serves anyone but himself, my lord.’
Salisbury moved a step closer. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. ‘No, Lady Tyringham,’ he said. ‘Lord Buckingham serves God before all else. He is a truer Catholic than any in this kingdom and would give his life for our cause.’
‘I always took you for a shrewd, discerning man, my lord. I can see now that I was wrong. Buckingham is no more a Catholic than the King, whose bed he shares every night.’
‘I know the reasons for your low opinion of him,’ Salisbury countered. ‘He can be ruthless and cruel, but never without purpose. Why do you think he was so intent upon securing the King’s favour entirely for himself? Or marrying the richest heiress in the kingdom? It is all for this, not for vain pride or greed.’
‘He is a murderer!’ Frances exclaimed. There was a loud flutter of wings as a startled rook took off from one of the branches overhead. ‘A rapist, too,’ she went on, lowering her voice, ‘and many more things besides. Yet you expect me to believe that this devil is really an avenging angel, sent by God to do His work here on earth?’ She wrenched her arm from his grip and began to stride away.
‘Wait!’ Salisbury caught up with her. ‘I beg you, listen to me. You might pretend to have turned your back on our faith, but I see its light burning in your eyes still. Deny it if you will – it makes no difference,’ he went on as she opened her mouth to protest. ‘With or without your support, we will restore England to the Catholic fold. Thanks to his marriage, Buckingham has amassed enough funds for a voyage to Spain. He will take the prince with him so that the marriage might be contracted when they reach the Escorial. Everything is in readiness. They will sail as soon as winter has abated.’
Frances stared in disbelief. ‘Without the King’s knowledge, his sanction?’
He inclined his head. ‘We cannot afford to wait for either.’
She fell silent, her mind reeling from what she had heard. The idea that Buckingham was a true Catholic seemed unthinkable. That he had acted out of loyalty to the cause rather than for selfish motives was preposterous. Even if he did cherish that faith in his heart, it was the lure of power and riches that drove him on. Salisbury was as much under his spell as the King.
But then a thought struck her. The dying Queen had spoken of someone whom she had instructed to bring about her son’s Catholic marriage. I ask only that you do nothing to hinder them – no matter how greatly you might wish it. Frances had puzzled over those words ever since. Why would she, whom Anne knew to be of the true faith, obstruct such a marriage? Now it all became startlingly clear. The man whom Anne had appointed to restore England to the Catholic faith was her mortal enemy.