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

THE DAYS PASSED PLEASANTLY. It was good to hear Mary’s lighthearted laughter; often she played the lute and sang. Buxton was so good for her. The mountain air was sharp but invigorating and there was shelter in the valley from the bleak winds which buffeted Sheffield Castle.

Burleigh called often. He was in fact constantly on the alert. When he visited the Queen he tried to startle her with sly questions; she enjoyed arousing his suspicions and then letting him discover that there was nothing in them; but all the same these contacts meant that each was discovering a new respect for the other. It was impossible for Mary not to respect the minister’s single-minded loyalty to his Queen, just as it was impossible for Burleigh not to be affected by the charm of Mary. Thus, in spite of the fact that they must be cautious of each other, a form of friendship grew between them.

This pleasant life might have gone on throughout the season, but news was brought to Elizabeth that Burleigh was at Buxton and calling on the Queen of Scots.

Elizabeth was incensed because Burleigh had gone to the baths without asking her consent; and that, as he had been there some time, must have paid many calls on the Queen of Scots.

He was recalled at once and as soon as he came into the presence of his royal mistress she berated him for what she pleased to call his infidelity.

“So, sir,” she cried, “you have been visiting the Queen of Scots, paying compliments to the fair lady, I’ll warrant.”

“I was there on Your Majesty’s business,” began Burleigh.

“Is that so, William Cecil! Is it my business then to play the gallant and compliment the Queen of Scots on her beautiful eyes?”

“But I did not pay such compliments . . . .”

“Did you not! Then were her eyes not beautiful enough to warrant the compliment?”

The answer must be the expected one: “Having seen Your Majesty’s eyes, no others could seem beautiful.”

“H’m!” said the Queen. “You’re another Norfolk, it seems. I trust you remember, sir, what happened to him.”

“I do, Your Majesty.”

“Look to it that it does not happen to you!”

“If I deserved such a fate, which I should do if I failed to serve my own Sovereign Lady Elizabeth with all my heart, I should welcome it,” answered Burleigh with dignity. “Since I could never deserve it, I do not fear it.”

Elizabeth liked a bold answer and she softened at once. She had never really doubted the loyalty of this good friend; she merely feared that he might have found the company of the Queen of Scots entrancing, as it was clear so many men did.

“Go to then,” she said. “And do not leave us again. We need you here beside us.”

Burleigh bowed; he still looked a little ruffled.

Was he a little bewitched by that fascinating woman? Elizabeth wondered.

She said angrily: “She shall not remain at Buxton. I fear she enjoys too much freedom there. Let her return to Chatsworth; that is nearby.” She looked shrewdly at Cecil. “Is she as beautiful as reports say?” she demanded suddenly, and there was a note in her voice which was pleading with him to say that she was not.

“The Queen of Scots is fair enough,” answered Burleigh. He was preparing the necessary remark to follow, when Elizabeth held up a hand.

“Mayhap I should go to see her for myself,” she said. “It is a notion which pleases me. She shall go to Chatsworth. If I went to Buxton to take the waters, I could ride to Chatsworth in disguise. A lady seeking a night’s shelter! Thus I could see this beauty for myself. I could exchange words with her. I like the idea.”

She evidently did, for she mentioned it to certain of her women, and they amused themselves by picturing the meeting.

“Then,” said Elizabeth, “I shall compare her face and figure with my own—which I have always wished to do.”

“Your Majesty need not go to Chatsworth to make the comparison,” she was told. “All who set eyes on the Queen of Scots say that she has a pleasant mien, but beside Your Majesty she is as the moon to the sun.”

“Then perhaps the journey would not be necessary,” replied Elizabeth with a yawn.

She had made up her mind that she would never look at Mary. In moments of truth she knew the answer to the question, Who is the fairer, she or I? which her desire for flattery and her jealousy of her rival forced her to ask.

She would never allow herself to face that truth, for while she had never seen Mary she could go on believing what her courtiers were so eager to tell her.

THERE WAS EXCITEMENT at Chatsworth when the rumor reached Mary that Queen Elizabeth was going to visit her in the disguise of a gentlewoman.

Mary had been feeling depressed because she had had to leave Buxton. Moreover she had heard from George Douglas that those who were concerned with him in the plot to rescue her son from Morton and Buchanan had decided it would be too dangerous to continue. The Countess of Lennox, who had been in the conspiracy, was now in the Tower, and it might well be that some intelligence had reached Elizabeth of their intention, and the imprisonment of the Countess was due to the part she had taken in the plot—not, as the English Queen would wish it to be believed, because of the marriage of her son. George could not act without friends; therefore this matter would have to be shelved.

Then came the startling news that Queen Elizabeth was planning to visit Chatsworth in disguise.

Mary excitedly gathered her women about her. Seton should do her hair. Which gown should she wear? She had very few jewels but they would have to make do with what she had.

Seton said: “She will come in her jewels and rich garments, depend upon it. But never fear, we shall show her that you would be more beautiful in sackcloth than she is in cloth of gold.”

Mary laughed. “That is not important, Seton. All that matters is that at last I shall speak to her. I am certain that when we are face-to-face I shall make her understand.”

For weeks they waited.

But Elizabeth did not come to Chatsworth.

Elizabeth was never at ease when Mary was at Chatsworth. She feared that the Queen enjoyed too much freedom there, and after a few months Mary found herself back in Sheffield Castle.

Bess had rejoined the household. She seemed none the worse for the months she had spent in the Tower, apart from a smoldering anger at the indignity she had been obliged to suffer.

The atmosphere of the household changed as soon as she entered it. She stormed through the servants’ quarters, discovering what had been left undone.

“It is as though a sharp wind blows through the house,” said Mary to Seton.

Bess sat with Mary and worked with her on her tapestry—the two of them alone so that, said Bess, they could talk at their ease; and as Bess had had an interview with Elizabeth, Mary was eager to hear what she had to say.

“She showed her displeasure at first,” Bess told her. “But it did not last. There is a certain bond between us which she cannot ignore. When I was released from the Tower and she sent for me she accused me of overweening ambition. I admitted to this and she burst out laughing. She knew full well that my ambition matches her own. I was bold enough to say to her: ‘If Your Majesty had been born plain Bess of Hardwick instead of a King’s daughter, you would have sought means of making good marriages for your children—had you borne them.’”

“And did she agree?”

“Not in so many words, but her mood changed toward me and we talked of old times.”

“It seems,” said Mary wistfully, “that if one can only talk with her, she is ready to see reason.”

“She will always see what she wants to see.”

“Do you think she has a sense of justice?”

That made Bess laugh. “I see into her mind without effort,” she boasted. “The virgin Queen; do you believe it?”

“I have no reason to do otherwise.”