The Murder in the Tower: The Story of Frances, Countess of Essex

Her servants came to dress her, and while she sat at her mirror and they arranged her beautiful hair, they chattered to her of Court gossip because she always encouraged them to do this. It was important to carry little scraps of information to the Countess; and now that Sir George Villiers was becoming so prominent, Frances always liked to hear the latest news regarding him.

This day they had another piece of gossip.

One of the maids had a lover who was servant to Sir Ralph Winwood, and Sir Ralph had just returned from a visit to the King. He had left in a great hurry it seemed, and when he had returned had been very busy. He had had long and secret talks with several people—but servants were the great detectives and secrets could not long be kept from them.

“Such a pother, Madam,” said the maid, “and it seems that it concerns a long dead gentleman. He died in the Tower and it was by poison.”

Anne had begun to watch the maid’s face in the mirror, but the girl did not notice how fixedly she stared.

“They’re going to find out who poisoned him. They’re going to follow up the trail because he was once a very important Court gentleman, a friend of my lord Somerset, no less.”

Anne stood up; she was afraid the girl would see that her face had whitened.

“Did you hear this gentleman’s name mentioned?” she asked, trying to make her voice sound casual.

“Oh yes, Madam. It was Sir Thomas Overbury.”

Since Frances had known that she was pregnant she had felt more at peace. It was true that Sir George Villiers had cast a shadow over her security and would have to be watched; but she felt equal to deal with that young upstart. Each passing week, she reminded herself, took her farther from the divorce and the death of Overbury.

Therefore she was unprepared for the news Anne Turner brought her. As soon as she saw Anne’s face she knew that something important was wrong and her heart began to pound with terror.

Anne looked over her shoulder to make sure they were alone.

“No one can overhear,” said Frances.

“A most distressing rumor. Winwood is investigating Overbury’s death.”

Frances stared at Anne for the moment, unable to speak, so great was her horror.

“My maid was chattering about it.”

“Maids’ gossip.”

“Her lover serves Winwood. I do not think we can afford to ignore this, even if it is only gossip.”

“But why … in God’s name why … now … after all this time?”

Anne shook her head. “We must act quickly … I think.”

“How?”

“It is certain that Weston will be interrogated. He was his jailer at the time.”

Frances nodded. “You must see him, Anne. You must make sure that he will know exactly what to say, or I fear he will betray us all.”

“Thank God you have good friends.”

Good friends!—thought Frances. Northampton dead. Robert in ignorance of the plot in which he was involved —and Sir George Villiers standing by, ready to snatch his power.

“Go, Anne,” she said urgently. “Go at once and see Weston. Warn him. It is always better to be warned.”

In a tavern some miles from London a lady in a cloak, the hood of which partly concealed her face, impatiently waited in the room which the innkeeper had set aside for her to receive her guest.

A Court lady, mused the innkeeper. One could always tell. And this was a secret assignation with a lover. The innkeeper was not displeased. This might be the beginning of a succession of visits from Court ladies and gentlemen; it would be well to let them know that he was an innkeeper who could be discreet.

When the lady’s guest arrived he proved to be a disappointment for he was a somewhat shabby fellow. Was the lady having a love affair with her groom? Perhaps this was the reason why they must meet well away from the Court.

Anne’s reception of Richard Weston was certainly unlike that of a woman receiving her lover.

“Weston,” she cried, “so at last you are here! I thought you would never come.”

“You are distressed, Madam.”

“So will you be when you hear what I have to tell. We shall all be more than distressed if we do not take the utmost care.”

She then told him of the rumor.

Weston turned pale and began to tremble. “I only acted in this under orders,” he burst out. “It was nothing to me whether Sir Thomas Overbury lived or died.”

“You were eager enough to help when you knew how well paid you would be.”