to destroy the king and his entire parliament. You would be put to death – the child too.’
The truth of his words smote her. Though she had known the dangers of her situation, she had been so consumed by grief for Tom that they had lurked at the edge of her vision. In truth she would care little for what might happen to her, should her part in the plot be discovered. She had stood ready to deliver the Princess Elizabeth to the plotters once they had blown up the king and his Parliament, so that they might set her upon the throne and marry her to a Catholic prince. That was high treason. Yet, on some days, she felt she would welcome death as a release from her wretchedness at losing Tom. Her desire to protect the child always proved stronger, though. It was the only part of him that she had left.
‘Then what do you propose, Sir Thomas?’ she asked.
He leaned forward and took her hands in his. ‘To marry you,’ he said simply.
Frances recoiled. ‘You think I am a chattel to be bought? That I could transfer my affections to you now that the man I loved more than my own soul – the man you claim was a dear friend – lies cold in his grave?’
She made to snatch away her hands, but his grip was stronger.
‘You are in great danger, Lady Frances.’ His eyes bored into hers as he spoke. ‘I promised Tom that if he were to perish, I would do everything in my power to protect you. When the queen told me of your condition, I knew what I must do – as, I think, did she. If you accept, I will raise the child as my own and tell my household we married last year, shortly after I took my leave of absence. They will not think to question it – I have been a virtual stranger to them these past few months.’
Frances struggled to order her thoughts. Though her anger had abated at the mention of the vow Tom had obliged his friend to make, the idea of marrying a virtual stranger was abhorrent, even if it brought her his protection. She had surely lived long enough on her own wits to safeguard herself and her child.
Sir Thomas continued, ‘I expect nothing from you. I do not ask for your love,’ Frances flinched at the word, ‘or even your esteem. It would be a marriage in name only. But I make this offer on one condition: you must vow never to make contact with any of Tom’s family or associates, or with any of those who seek to finish what he and Catesby started. You must utterly relinquish any allegiance to the Catholic cause.’
Frances shot him a scornful look. ‘You would so easily abandon the cause for which you have fought all these years? For which Tom and his friends died?’ She stopped abruptly, trying to control her rising fury. ‘Well, if your principles are so malleable, then mine are not. I will abide by the true faith and support those who seek to destroy this heretic king.’
Sir Thomas stared back at her, his chest rising and falling. ‘We would live as the king’s faithful subjects,’ he said, his voice low. ‘Though we may believe differently in our hearts, the days of plotting are over. There are many others of our faith who have chosen to conceal their true beliefs and conform to the king’s so that they may live in peace. Only those too blind to see still cling to the hope that the Catholics will prevail. You must open your eyes, Frances, as I have done. If you do otherwise, you will destroy yourself and your child.’
He stood, and the sound of the heavy oak chair scraping on the flagstones echoed around the hall. ‘I do not expect an answer now,’ he said. ‘I have lodgings in Salisbury and will return the day after tomorrow. If you accept my offer, we will leave for Buckinghamshire the same day.’
Frances sat quite still, long after the echo of the front door slamming had faded into silence.
‘Sister, calm yourself,’ Edward said irritably.
Frances turned from the window. ‘I wish you would let me go and look for her. It is almost dark now, so nobody would see me. I know those woods better than anyone. She might have fallen and be lying hurt. She did not even have a cloak with her. She will surely freeze.’
‘She will have stayed gossiping with one of the women in the village and lost track of time. I wonder you should trouble yourself so much about her.’
‘Ellen raised us!’ Frances cried, rounding on him. ‘She loved us as her own and always will. It would grieve her sorely to hear you speak of her as if she meant no more to you than a passing acquaintance.’
Edward had the grace to look ashamed, but he soon recovered himself. ‘I hear that just such an acquaintance paid you a visit today, Frances,’ he said, smiling at her obvious discomfiture. ‘When were you planning to tell me? You cannot have thought to keep your admirer a secret in such a backwater as this. There is little enough else to talk about.’
Frances would not let her brother goad her into losing her temper, as she had seen him do to their elder sister Elizabeth many times as children.
‘Sir Thomas Tyringham is an acquaintance from court,’ she replied calmly. ‘I was introduced to him by our uncle upon first arriving at Whitehall, but have hardly seen him since. He did not stay for long.’ She lifted her chin as she returned Edward’s gaze.
‘Is it not strange that a gentleman whom you know so little should travel all this way for such a brief and inconsequential meeting? His estates are in Buckinghamshire, I understand, so Longford is hardly on his way to anywhere.’
Frances knew that Edward would have made enquiries about her visitor. ‘Perhaps he had business in Salisbury. I hardly know or care, brother,’ she said airily, but the flush that was creeping up her neck betrayed her. She noticed her brother’s smile broaden.
He rose to his feet and came to where she was standing. ‘Is it him?’
Frances jumped back as if he had struck her. Her face was deeply flushed now, and her hands shook with fury. ‘Who?’ she demanded, though she understood her brother’s question well enough.
‘Your feckless suitor, the one who has shamed you – shamed our family. Father told me he was dead, but that’s a little too convenient, don’t you think?’
‘He is dead!’ Frances cried, brushing away the tears that filled her eyes. She hated to show such weakness in front of her brother. She made as if to leave, but he gripped her arm, his fingers digging deep into her flesh.
‘Forgive me if I no longer take your word as the truth, sister,’ he sneered. ‘Tell me, has Sir Thomas been pricked by his conscience, or did Father bribe him to make you an offer?’
Frances glared at him. ‘Sir Thomas is not the father of my child,’ she said. ‘Father spoke the truth – that man is dead. You will never know his name.’ Her brother’s eyes flashed. ‘But Sir Thomas did ask me to marry him. He knows of my situation and is willing to claim the child as his own. He does this to honour his late friend.’
Edward released his grip, his eyes narrowing. ‘If this is true, then it is a good deal more than you deserve,’ he said, with the petulance she remembered from their childhood. ‘I presume you accepted.’
‘No.’
She
