Royal Road to Fotheringhay - Plaidy Jean - Страница 67

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“And he spoke ill of me?”

“He did, Your Majesty.”

“What said he?”

“Among other things that you and the Queen of England would not make one honest woman between you. He said that the Queen of England had for paramour Lord Robert Dudley, but that if Your Majesty had taken any other than the Cardinal, your uncle, the matter could have been better endured.”

Mary flushed scarlet with anger. “Take this man away!” she cried. “How dare he utter such wicked slander? How dare he even think such things!”

Moray signed to Pringle to hurry away.

“The man but repeats the words of that rogue,” he said as soon as they were alone.

“It is so… monstrous!”

Mary, overcome with fury and shame that such a thing could be said of her, threw herself into her brother’s arms and wept bitterly.

Moray soothed her. He had won this round. Bothwell would not be allowed to remain in Scotland.

THE SOUNDS of revelry burst forth at intervals from the palace of Holyrood. The Queen had never seemed so healthy, nor so happy. She must have her lover continually beside her; she could not bear to lose sight of him. The pain in her side had not troubled her for weeks; there was a delicate color in her usually pale cheeks, and the sound of her laughter frequently rang through the apartment of Little France.

It was true that clouds were gathering about her, but she refused to notice them. She could not spare time to look at them; she had at last let loose her slumbering passion, and it had overwhelmed her, so powerful was it.

She did not realize that she was betraying herself. She would not listen to David’s warning that Moray knew the state of affairs between herself and Darnley, and would do his utmost to prevent their marriage. Maitland was back from his English embassy; he was anxious that she should marry to please the Queen of England, but Maitland had one other matter on his mind now for there was one marriage which seemed to him of more importance than the Queens. His wife had died and he was courting Flem.

Flem and the Queen were closer than the others now. They were both deeply in love; they shared little jokes together; their mingling laughter filled the apartments. Neither would concern herself with what was unpleasant; they were determined to be happy.

David begged the Queen to heed his warning. Moray was gathering together an army for the purpose, he said, of driving Bothwell from the country. A whole army to drive one man from Scotland when that man had already fled back to France? Why did Moray not disband his army? David knew. He wanted Mary to know too.

But if Mary was reckless, if she was almost submerged in the deep seas of her passion, she had attained an even greater dignity than before. In her love affair with Darnley, she was the leader. She was the Queen; she would protect him from such as Moray who, David said, sought to destroy him. Mary was determined to show all Scotland that she was Queen.

At this time Darnley was confined to his bed with an attack of measles. The Queen was distraught—although he was not seriously ill—and insisted on his staying at Stirling Castle so that she could nurse him herself.

She did not leave the sickroom, and if any had doubted her intentions, they could no longer do so.

John Knox, who had called the godly to witness the black mummeries and wickedness that went on in Holyroodhouse, now commanded his flock to observe that the Queen attended her lover in a most immodest manner in his sickroom.

God, he declared, was recording Mary Stuart’s sins. They should be paid for… every one.

The Queen of England heard the news and publicly declared herself shocked by it. She, being a virgin, she said, could scarcely bear to speak of it. A Queen … in a sickroom… nursing a young man! It was wanton behavior.

“The Queen of England,” said Mary, “protests her virtue continually. It is understandable that she should protect what is left to her, for that virtue has been much besmirched by rumor.”

Mary did not know that in private the Queen of England exulted at the success of her plan to bring disorder into Scotland. She laughed with Cecil and Dudley at the accounts of Darnley’s good behavior. “Let her wait,” said Elizabeth. “Soon that long lad will begin to show himself in his true colors, once let him be sure that he has secured the Queen in his net.”

It was true that Darnley did become a little peevish during his convalescence. Mary noticed that some of his servants bore bruises; she heard rumors that the spoiled boy beat his servants unmercifully. But she paid little attention to such gossip; she was far too happy to let that happiness be spoiled.

And when he was finally recovered, the Queen was so elated that, with some of her women including her three Marys, she dressed up in the humble garments of citizens’ wives and roamed the streets, stopping all the men they met and asking them to give coins toward a ball they intended to give that night.

Laughing through the streets they went and, when it was known that the party of supposedly loose women was headed by the Queen, the gossips increased their scandalous talk, John Knox ranted more than ever, and the Queen of England collected more tidbits to gloat over in private and condemn in public.

NOW THAT Darnley had recovered, Mary was determined to wait no longer for her marriage.

It was May now—three months since Darnley had come to Scotland. Mary passionately desired to regularize their union now, for she felt it very wrong that Scotland’s strict moral laws, laid down by the Kirk and to which she had given her authority, should be broken by Scotland’s Queen.

She called her brother to her and told him that she had determined to marry Lord Darnley. She had prepared a document which she asked him to sign.

“A document?” cried Moray.

“It states that you will give your consent to my marriage with Lord Darnley and do all in your power to bring it about.”

“Madam, this is impossible. It will split Scotland in two.”

“Why so?”

“There are many nobles in Scotland who will not stomach this marriage.”

“You mean yourself.”

“I am one, Madam.”

“Because you fear that we shall bring the Catholic Faith back to Scotland and the Reformed Party and yourself will no longer be in power?”

“You are young, Madam.”

“I am of age now, brother. When you were my age you were planning to rule Scotland. That is what I am planning to do now.”

“You cannot do it through marriage with Darnley.”

“I will be Queen and choose the man I marry.”

“You cannot ignore the nation and your ministers when you make that choice.”

“As Queen, the nation will follow me in my choice.”

“Never!” cried Moray in a fury.

“You forget yourself, brother.”

“It is you who forget yourself, sister. You behave like a slut with this pretty boy of yours. He shares your bed. The whole Court knows it. I beg of you, if you prize your crown, give up this evil life while there is yet time.”

“You quote Master Knox. There is another who will find his claws clipped.”

“You do not know what you say.”

“I know very well that I say what I mean. Sign this paper and I shall think of you as my good subject.”

Moray’s answer was to fling out of the room.

David came to her later to tell her that Moray had an army gathered about him. Argyle, Chatelherault and Kirkcaldy of Grange were with him. These were the most important noblemen in Scotland; and there was not a general to match Kirkcaldy. Moray had been astute; this was not the sudden move he had intended it should appear to be; he had looked ahead and this was his answer to the suggested Darnley marriage.

She paced up and down the apartment. Civil war threatened, but she was not afraid. She was not a frivolous girl now; she was a woman of deep emotions which brought her great courage.

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