Jean Plaidy - The Murder in the Tower - The Story of Frances, Countess of Essex

“Frances does, it seems,” said Northampton with a sly chuckle.

“Essex might have difficulty in proving otherwise when a girl like Frances is ready to swear to it!”

Lady Suffolk burst into coarse laughter. “Surely it wouldn’t be an impossibility for Essex to prove his potency.”

“You fret over details. Let the King show his eagerness for the divorce and if Essex is a wise man he’ll not interfere. After all, his great desire is to get back to the country. Give him a divorce and a new wife who is ready to live the life he wants her to, and he’ll be amenable.”

“I’m not so sure,” said Suffolk.

“Come, come,” interrupted Northampton. “You meet troubles halfway. Carr is the most influential man in this country. James scarcely ever makes an appointment without consulting him. Think what this marriage is going to mean to the Howards. All the important posts in the country can fall into our hands. You have reason to rejoice that you produced your daughter Frances.”

“I am thirsty,” said the Countess. “Let us drink to the marriage of Robert Carr and Frances Howard.”

A messenger from Hammersmith arrived at the Court; he asked to see the Countess of Essex without delay.

Frances, in a state of bemused joy since Carr had suggested the divorce, and her family had taken up the idea with such enthusiasm, took the note to her apartment and read it twice before she realized the urgency behind the words.

It was from Mrs. Turner, who asked that she come to Hammersmith without delay. It was imperative that they meet for Mrs. Turner had discovered something too secret to put to paper.

At the first opportunity Frances accompanied by Jennet rode over to Hammersmith.

Anne Turner was waiting for her, and Frances saw at once that she was distraught.

“I had to see you,” said Anne, and her hands trembled as she embraced Frances. “A terrible thing has happened.”

“Pray tell me quickly.”

“Do you remember Mary Woods … but of course you don’t. She was one of several. You gave her a ring set with diamonds and she promised in return to give you certain powders.”

“I do not need the powders now that I am to divorce Essex. I no longer care what happens to him.”

“But listen, my sweet friend. Mary Woods has been arrested and a diamond ring found on her person. When she was questioned she said it was given her by a great lady in an effort to persuade her to supply poison, that the lady might rid herself of her husband.”

“She mentioned names?”

Anne nodded anxiously.

“But this is terrible. She said that I—”

“She said the ring had been given her by the Countess of Essex.”

“Where did she say this?”

“In a court in the county of Suffolk where she was brought before the justices.”

Frances covered her face with her hands. It could not be—not now that she was going to be divorced from Essex, not now that Robert was eager to marry her and they would settle down together and live happily and openly for the rest of their lives.

“Oh, Anne,” she moaned, “what shall I do? There will be such a scandal.”

Anne took her hands and held them firmly.

“There must not be a scandal,” she said.

“How prevent it.”

“You have influential friends.”

“Robert! Tell Robert that I have met such people! He would be horrified. He wouldn’t love me anymore. There would be no need for a divorce for he would not want to marry me.”

“I was thinking of your great-uncle. He wants the marriage. He is the Lord Privy Seal. I’ll swear that he could put an end to proceedings in a small Suffolk Court if he wished.”

Frances looked at her friend with wide, frightened eyes.

“You should lose no time,” advised Anne. “For if this case went too far, even the Lord Privy Seal might not be able to stop its becoming known throughout the country.”

Northampton looked sternly at his frantic great-niece.

“So you gave the woman the ring?”

“Yes, I gave it to her.”

“In exchange for a powder?”

“No, that she should procure the powder.”

“Did you know the woman was a witch?”

“I know nothing of her except that I was told she could find me this powder.”

Northampton was seeing his kinswoman afresh. Good God, he thought, there is nothing she would stop at. She had been trying to poison Essex!

Well, he knew what it meant to have an ambition and see others in the way of it. It was because she was young, so beautiful a woman that he was shocked.

She would never forget that she was a Howard; she would work for the family when she was married to Carr. And marry Carr she must; for now the project was as important to him as it was delightful to her.

“Leave this to me,” he said. “The case must go no further. Let us hope it has not gone too far.”

He did not wait to say more; he must send orders at once to Suffolk. It was only a matter of time. If the message reached the Court before sentence was pronounced he could rely on everyone concerned carrying out his wishes.

The woman must be freed and sent away. An eye could be kept on her and a witch-finder sent to incriminate her later, for she was undoubtedly a witch. But this ring which she had said was a gift from the Countess of Essex must be forgotten.

That was an anxious time, but eventually Northampton was able to send for his niece and told her that the affair had been hushed up. The woman’s case had been dismissed and she had gone off with the ring.

“Let us hope, niece,” he said grimly, “that you have not committed more acts of folly which will come home to roost.”

Frances was uneasy for a few days; but she could not persist in that state.

She was too happy; all impatience to finish with Essex, all eager desire for marriage with Robert Carr.

Overbury could not believe it. When he had been told the news he had laughed at it.

“Nonsense,” he had said, “Court gossip, nothing more. Essex impotent! Look at him! That young man is as normal as any wife could wish.”

“Not as normal as the Countess of Essex wished, evidently” was the rejoinder.

Overbury went to his apartment which adjoined that of Robert Carr.

If it were indeed true, and he feared it was, there could be one reason for it. The Countess of Essex hoped to marry Robert Carr.

If that should ever come about it would be the end of the friendship between Robert Carr and Tom Overbury, for he, Overbury, would never endure her insolence. He thought of all those occasions when he had criticized her to Robert and how his friend had shrugged aside his insinuations.

Robert was so guileless: he did not see behind that mask of beauty. Overbury was ready to grant the lady her attractions; he was ready to admit that she might well be reckoned the most beautiful woman at Court. But he saw beyond the beauty. He saw wantonness, lust, ambition, selfishness and cruelty.

Robert must be made to understand what sort of woman this was and that if he wished to retain his high position he must not marry her.

In the heat of rage against the Countess and anger at the folly of his friend he waylaid the latter on his way from the King’s apartments and said he must speak to him without delay.

“What has happened to you, Tom?” asked Robert. “You look distraught.”

“I have just heard some disquieting news which I want you to tell me is false.”