The Captive Queen of Scots - Plaidy Jean (электронную книгу бесплатно без регистрации TXT) 📗

“My plan is almost complete, Your Majesty.”

She moved nearer to him in the dance. “Can you tell me . . . without seeming to? Speak low; your mother watches us.”

“Your Majesty, when you are free, you will not hold it against my mother and brother that you were held in their fortalice?”

“Nay, George. It seems that I shall be so grateful to one Douglas that I shall love the whole family.”

“When you say such things I am filled with such happiness that I forget aught else.”

“Oh George, you must not love me so devotedly that you cannot help me to escape. There is one thing I long for beyond all others. Only when one has lost freedom does one realize how precious it is. I shall never forget you, George. For if I never leave Lochleven I shall remember that in my darkest hour you gave me hope.”

“Then I have not lived in vain. If they discovered that I had tried to help you, doubtless they would kill me. If that should come to pass, do not grieve for me. Remember that I should be the happiest man on Earth on the day I died for you.”

“Do not speak of dying for me. Rather live for me.”

George looked melancholy. “I am aware, Your Majesty, of the gulf that lies between us. You are a Queen. My only hope is to serve you.”

“You are too modest, George. I shall never forget that you are my very dear friend.”

Her long eyes were soft and full of affection. She wanted to take his head in her hands and kiss him. She was young and passionate; she was also very lonely, and the image of Bothwell was growing dimmer each day. Perhaps she had had enough of brutality; what she craved now was gentleness, this adoration, this loving homage which the charming boy was laying at her feet.

“My very dear friend,” he repeated.

Had he been more calculating he might have read an invitation in her words. Any other might have given her a passionate look of understanding and, when the castle was sleeping, she would have opened her eyes to find him beside her. But not George. He had no thought beyond service; he did not think, as Ruthven did: I will help the Queen escape and in exchange she may take me for her lover. George only asked to serve.

It would have been easy to divert to George Douglas that passionate desire which had once overwhelmed her for a different kind of man.

He was too young to understand. He did not know how he might so easily have become her lover.

He was whispering: “Have you noticed the large boat moored at the lakeside? It is not securely moored. Be ready when I give the warning. It may be very soon.”

“You would take me to the mainland in this boat?” she asked. “How should we elude the guards?”

“You have many supporters on the mainland. I have suggested to them that they come in force to attack and force their way into the castle. While you and I take the boat and go to the mainland, they will engage the guards until we have made our escape.”

“It sounds simple,” she said. “But are there enough men to prevent our being caught before we reach the mainland?”

“I will arrange it,” said George.

She smiled; but she thought: Is it possible?

George had no doubt; she could see by the happy smile on his lips.

Seton had stopped playing the lute and the dance was over. Lady Douglas watched benignly while George escorted the Queen to her chair.

IT WAS DUSK and George bent over the chains by which the boat was fastened.

A simple matter, he thought. He wished they could have a rehearsal. He would make his way straight to the keep, where she would be waiting in her cloak. Then they would hurry out of the castle while the invaders held off the guards. On the mainland Lord Seton and others would be waiting for them with fast horses.

“Is aught wrong with the boat, sir?”

George started on seeing Will Drysdale, the garrison commander, looking down at him. George flushed, annoyed because he could never cover his embarrassment. “Oh . . . no . . . It seems secure enough.”

Drysdale bent over the chains to examine them. “H’m,” was all he said. Then he straightened himself and stared beyond George to the mainland. “I believe this boat causes you some anxiety, sir. I saw you examining it the other day.”

“I think it’s secure enough,” said George turning away.

Drysdale looked after him and scratched the side of his face. He watched George until he was out of sight; then he went to find Sir William.

Sir William was in his apartments and Drysdale asked: “Could I have a word with you alone, sir?”

“Anything wrong?” asked Sir William when they were alone.

“The big boat is not very securely moored, Sir William. It would not be difficult for anyone to release it. I suggest that we make it very secure. If we do not . . . ”

“You have discovered something, Drysdale?”

“Well, Sir William, I hardly know. It was just that I wanted to make sure.”

Sir William eyed him quizzically. “You’d better tell me, Drysdale.”

“It may be conjecture on my part, Sir William, but Master George seemed uncommonly interested in that boat, and anyone can see with half an eye that . . . ”

“The Queen is a very desirable woman,” sighed Sir William, “and my brother is a chivalrous young man . . . . That’s what you mean, is it?”

Drysdale nodded.

“I should not like the young fool to run into trouble,” said Sir William.

“Where the Queen is, trouble will soon follow, Sir William. What shall I do?”

“Make the boat doubly secure, strengthen the guard, and keep your eye on my young brother. And so will I. For the time being let that suffice. And . . . say nothing. He is young and inexperienced. I would not like this to reach the ears of my lord Moray. He would not understand the emotions of a young boy in love. My lord Moray could never have been that. Such as we are, Drysdale, are more lenient, eh. This could cost the boy his life.”

“Very well, Sir William.”

“But remember, we have been warned.”

GEORGE LAY STRETCHED out on the grass moodily staring up at the keep. She was seated in her window, her tapestry in her hand.

He had failed! George was telling himself what an ineffectual fool she would think him. The plan had had a chance of success but he had had to raise their suspicions by his too careful examinations of the boat. Now that they suspected him, he would have to think of something very ingenious if he were going to give her her freedom.

But he would succeed; he was determined to. In his imagination he saw himself at her side, defending her for the rest of their lives, his sword drawn ready for all who came against her. All that he asked was to be her slave. When she rode away from Lochleven he would go with her, no matter in what guise; he would not care. He would be her page, her scullion . . . anything—all he asked was that he might be with her.

A low chuckle at his side brought him out of his dream of chivalry. He frowned; he was in no mood for young Willie so he ignored the boy stretched out beside him until Willie began to whistle untunefully. Then George cried: “For the love of God, be silent!”

Willie, resting his elbows on the grass, propped his face in his hands. “You were a daftie, Geordie Douglas,” he said. “It was a poor plan, did ye know?”

“What do you mean?”

“To think to go off in the boat and then let old Drysdale know it by looking over the old vessel every few hours to make sure it was worthy to carry your Queen.”

“So you knew . . . ”

“Hey, Geordie Douglas, what have I got this pair of peepers for, did ye think? Now if I was going to rescue my Queen I’d go a different way about it, that I would!”

“You rescue the Queen!”

“And why not, Geordie Douglas? I may wear your cast-off breeks but I am a man for all that . . . and she’s a bonny lass though a Queen.”

George sprang to his feet but Willie was quicker. George lifted his arm to cuff the boy but Willie dodged away; he stood some distance off, poised to run, grinning insolently.