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

“Ah, who can say,” replied the Queen; and she thought of those months when she had been expecting James. What sad, violent months they had been! She remembered sitting at the supper table, with David Rizzio singing and paying his lute . . . and how his murderers had stormed into the room and dragged him from her side to plunge their knives into his quivering body. Poor David! And that had happened during the months of waiting for little James!

But how different it would be to wait in serenity as Margaret Scrope waited . . . thinking of nothing but the coming of the child and the possible romance of her brother and a captive Queen.

Yes, such serenity was enviable. Would it ever be her lot? she wondered. And wondering she found a yearning within her. She was weary of her loneliness. If this marriage ever came about she would welcome it.

A servant came to them and announced that Lord Herries wished to see the Queen immediately.

“It is news of the Conference,” said Mary to Margaret. And to one of the servant: “Bring him to me without delay.”

One look at Herries’ face told Mary that he was far from pleased.

“What news, my lord?” she demanded.

“It is simply this, Your Majesty. The Queen of England is not pleased with the manner in which the Conference has gone at York, and she is disbanding it. There is to be a second, which will take place next month at Westminster.”

“I see,” said Mary slowly.

“She is not pleased that those vile accusations were withheld, I fear,” said Herries.

Mary’s eyes narrowed. “If there is to be a conference at Westminster,” she said, “and accusations are to be made against me, I wish to go in person to answer them.”

Herries did not reply, but continued to look sadly at his mistress.

SIR FRANCIS KNOLLYS found the Queen taking exercise in the ground of the castle, and asked if he might join her. She gave him her gracious permission and told him that he was looking a little anxious lately.

“My wife is ill,” he said. “I am worried about her.”

Mary was immediately all concern.

“But you must go to see her. I am sure she would like to have you with her at such a time.”

“Alas, I cannot do that.”

“But . . . ” began Mary and stopped, There was a silence for a while and then Mary went on: “So your Queen refuses to allow you to leave Bolton?”

“She feels that my duty lies here at this time.”

“But that is heartless.”

Knollys was silent, and Mary lapsed into thoughts of her own. She felt that, although she was not allowed to come face-to-face with the Queen of England, that woman’s character was gradually being unfolded for her. Had she known more of Elizabeth, would she have been so eager to ignore the advice of so many of her friends and take that trip across the Solway Firth?

She was sorry for Knollys who, in addition to having this rather objectionable task thrust upon him—and she was sure it was objectionable, for he was not a natural jailor—was not allowed to visit his sick wife.

He seemed eager to change the subject, and Mary said: “Do you think that it is your Queen’s intention to have another conference?”

“Indeed yes. It is to be held at Westminster.”

“And do you think she really wishes to see me reconciled with my subjects?”

“It is Her Majesty’s desire that this should be so. Your Majesty, I pray you forgive my asking this question . . . but . . . would you consider a proposal of marriage?”

Mary was silent for a while. She immediately thought of Norfolk as he had been at Carlisle. Young, handsome, ardent, he had implied that he would be her staunch ally; and she believed he was. She was certain that the reason the conference at York had gone so much in her favor was due to him.

Knollys went on eagerly: “If a proposal came from a close relative of the Queen of England, would that be to Your Majesty’s liking?”

Mary smiled faintly. “I would not greatly mislike it,” she answered.

She did not realize that Knollys was not thinking of the same man who was in her thoughts. Both Norfolk and George Carey were related to Elizabeth through Anne Boleyn, for Lady Elizabeth Howard had been Anne’s mother; and George Carey was the son of Mary Boleyn, Anne’s sister.

Knollys was delighted with the reply. It was invigorating to plan for his family; it took his mind away from the anxieties about his wife.

When he left Mary he went to his own apartments and there wrote at once to his brother-in-law, Lord Hunsdon, and told him that Mary Queen of Scots was very favorably disposed toward his son George, and a royal marriage for George could be changed from a possibility into a certainty.

IT WAS THE 25TH NOVEMBER before the Conference was opened at Westminster. Elizabeth had refused to allow Mary to appear in person; and the atmosphere of the court was quite different from that of the one which had taken place at York, for Elizabeth intended this to be a criminal court and was determined that Mary should be tried for the murder of her husband. The Earl and Countess of Lennox, Darnley’s parent, had been begging her to see justice done, and her desire was to find a legitimate excuse to keep Mary her prisoner, to avoid meeting her, and to sustain Protestant Moray in the Office of Regency.

Elizabeth could not forget that there were many Catholics in England who did not believe she was the legitimate daughter of Henry VIII, and, if this were indeed the case, the true Queen of England would be Mary Queen of Scots. This doubt of legitimacy which had hung over Elizabeth all her life—especially so in her youth, when with sickening regularity she had been in and out of favor, never certain what was going to happen next—made her suspicious of any who might contest her right to the throne.

She would never forget that Mary had called herself the Queen of England while she was in France. That was reason enough in Elizabeth’s opinion to send her to the scaffold. Elizabeth could not however send her to the scaffold . . . yet; but he could hold her prisoner. That was what she determined to do.

Therefore she would intimate to Moray, who dared not disobey her, that every means at his disposal was to be used to defame the Queen of Scots. She heard most of what was going on; she had alert spies. She had those ministers to whom she playfully referred as her Eyes, her Lids, her Spirit . . . . There was her dearest Leicester whom she would always trust. There were shrewd Cecil, and Walsingham who served her so ardently that he had a spy system, which he maintained at his own expense, and it was all in order to preserve her safety.

It was not surprising therefore that she heard that two bridegrooms had been proposed for Mary Queen of Scots: George Carey and Norfolk!

She was furious, being determined that Mary should have no bridegroom. Unlike Elizabeth Mary was no virgin—all the world knew that; and Elizabeth could well believe that the lecherous creature yearned for a man. Well, she should have none; she could be as celibate as her cousin Elizabeth because this state for them both was the choice of Elizabeth.

She sent a sharp note to Hunsdon expressing her deep displeasure that he should have thought fit to scheme for marriage between his son and the Queen of Scots. She was considering whether it smacked of treason.

She sent for Norfolk, and shrewdly looking him in the eyes asked bluntly if he were planning to marry the Queen of Scots.

Norfolk was terrified. He remembered how his father, the Earl of Surrey, had lost his head for the flimsiest reason by the order of this Queen’s father. Ever since, he had determined to walk warily; and now he saw himself caught in a trap.

He promptly denied that he had any desire to marry the Queen of Scots and that he knew anything of such a plan; and if Her Majesty had heard rumors of it, then it was put about by his enemies.