Bothwell was greatly troubled by what he had heard, although the depth of Jamieson’s duplicity did not entirely surprise him.
‘Where is this place that the young Duke is being held?’ he asked Armstrong.
‘Crookham Castle, a lonely peel tower in the hills no mair than five miles south o’ here.’
Instantly Bothwell knew what he must do. If Gavin was still alive, then he was honour-bound to try to rescue him. Bothwell knew the borders as few other men knew them, and he remembered Crookham well. A broken-down tower house that stood alone in the shadow of a windswept hillside. No-one went near it these days, as it was said to be haunted. Jamieson would have chosen it both for its evil reputation and its location—so isolated that no-one would ever have found Gavin there. Bothwell thanked God for the lucky chance that had brought Jock Armstrong to Norham and thus given him the slim possibility of saving his friend’s life.
‘Jock, I need your help. You say you are looking for adventure and for gold. Well, by God, I’ll give you more than enough of both if you agree to ride by my side for the next few days. What do you say?’
Armstrong’s face lit up.
‘My lord, I like your spirit! I dinnae ken what mad scheme ye have in mind, but I’ll be honoured to take your gold. My sword is at your service! When do we leave?’
‘Meet me with two horses outside the castle walls at nightfall, and be ready to ride at once for Crookham.’
‘Ah, so that’s how the land lies! We go tae save the bonny Duke o’ Glasgow, do we? A tricky proposition, even for twa such scoundrels as ourselves,’ he laughed, as they parted.
There was only one problem. Bothwell had not thought it prudent to tell Jock that he was not a guest, but a prisoner at Norham. Even a bold fellow like Jock Armstrong might think twice before aiding a fugitive and risking outlawry. And at night Bothwell was always securely locked up in his room at the top of the East tower. The window was not barred—as it led directly to a drop of about seventy-five feet onto the rocks below the castle walls. So far, even the bold Earl of Bothwell had declined the challenge of escaping that way, but this was now a matter of life and death. Bothwell thought back to that night at Edinburgh Castle. He had defied the precipitous castle rock of the greatest fortress in the land, so why not the walls of Norham?
XXXI
AFTER being told of her husband’s death, Marie spent the long lonely night on her own. Even Effie could not console her, however hard she tried. Marie wept bitterly as the hours passed, sometimes howling aloud with the intensity of the pain she felt. In the darkness she could see Gavin’s handsome face through her tears, could hear his voice, as sweet as the breeze in a summer meadow, whispering that he loved her and would never leave her. She imagined him making love to her, tenderly, and remembered her own passionate responses. He was all she wanted, but now he had left her, and she felt alone and vulnerable in a vast and desolate world. So much had happened to her, and as she lay in the darkened bedchamber her mind raced but the tears would not stop. Occasionally she drifted off to sleep, only to be woken by a horrifying vision of Gavin lying dead with a crossbow bolt in his chest. Other nightmares haunted her—sometimes it was Gavin’s father Machar lying in a dark pool of blood, the dagger glistening in her hand, and at other times, even worse, it was the pale, waxen face of the Dauphin, his cold dead eyes staring at her in silent accusation.
But somehow she got through the night, and as the new day dawned she rose to find Guthrie Jamieson already up and sitting beside the fire in the great hall, deep in thought.
‘Good morning, Guthrie,’ said Marie softly. ‘I am so glad you are still here.’
‘My dear Marie,’ Guthrie replied, rising from his seat. ‘How are you? You look so pale.’
‘I still cannot believe he is dead. He had so much to live for.’
‘And he died a brave and honourable death. No man could ask for more.’
They both sat by the fire and stared into the flames.
‘If there is anything I can do to help you, anything at all, you know you only have to ask and it shall be yours.’
‘You are very kind, Guthrie. My thanks for breaking the news to my mother last night. I could not have … Oh God, my poor Gavin …’ she began to sob quietly, her face buried in her hands.
Jamieson strode quickly over to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulder.
‘Hush now, Marie,’ he crooned. ‘Gavin was a brave man, you should be proud of him. At least you have the children to comfort you, and Naughton Castle will be young Machar’s one day. That is all that Gavin would have wanted. You must be brave, my dear.’
‘I … know … it’s just the shock, I suppose. I will miss him dreadfully.’
‘Of course you will. But you must think of the children, and let the rest take care of itself.’
‘You are right, Guthrie. I must go to them. But first, I have a favour to ask of you.’
‘Anything.’
‘I could not face the Queen at the moment. Will you take a letter to her from me?’
‘At once.’
Marie spent the rest of the morning with the children, trying to avoid Effie. The last thing she needed right now was her mother fussing around, but she knew she could not avoid her forever.
‘Oh Marie, I’ve found you at last,’ Effie exclaimed as she swept into the room. ‘I thought you had disappeared into thin air! How are you my dear? You look terrible!’
‘Thank you mother. You always know just what to say.’
‘Oh you know what I mean! Have you been crying all night?’
‘Yes—I suppose so. I just cannot believe what has happened. What will I do without him?’ A tear welled in Marie’s eye, but she refused to cry in front of the children.
‘Well, of course, it’s a terrible shock about poor Gavin, but I think you’re really a very lucky young woman. You still have the children and this beautiful castle and land from here to the Trossachs, and me of course! You know, when your father used that unfortunate business of Gavin’s father to pack me off to Orkney, I thought that my life would be over, but looking back it was only just beginning. I was well rid of your father; he was nothing but a scoundrel and a womaniser. …’
Marie did not have the strength to argue with her mother, and knew it was hopeless to try when she was in this mood. Not for her a few words of comfort: it was as though Effie didn’t care about anything or anyone but herself.
‘… and at least you have that nice factor Mr McNairn to look after things for you. I suppose you will have to take over some of Gavin’s responsibilities, but not for a while yet, and I’ll always be here to make sure that the children are properly looked after. …’
As the days passed, Marie began to feel a little stronger. She had started eating a bit more, with Effie’s constant encouragement, of course, and had even started to sleep better.
There were still nightmares, but they were less frequent now.
A week after Guthrie Jamieson’s departure, he returned, bringing with him a letter bearing the Royal Seal.
‘The Queen asked me to bring this to you directly, Marie. She is heartbroken about Gavin’s death and sends you her sorrow and her love. I’m sure the letter will explain all.’
Marie could hardly read the letter through her veil of tears. She wept bitterly and finally put it down by her side.
‘I did not know that people could be so kind. There is so much I have to be thankful for.’ She looked up at the Earl, standing beside her. ‘You will stay for a while, won’t you Guthrie?’
The Earl bowed deeply. ‘I am at your service, as always.’
The days drifted past, and Marie began to feel alive once more. Guthrie had even managed to make her laugh once or twice, and Effie had stopped fussing quite so much. Days turned into weeks, and although Marie thought of Gavin almost constantly, she could now do so without so many tears.
Guthrie Jamieson had stayed by her side throughout it all, occasionally departing to take care of
some business or other, but always returning when he could, and always so supportive. Indeed, he had changed so much recently that she could hardly recognise him as the scoundrel she had known in France. She had always felt that somewhere underneath all his bravado and his plotting, there was a good man. Perhaps now he was mellowing with age.
And he was so good with the children, spending many hours in the nursery with them. He even seemed to be able to cope with Effie’s inane conversations. Indeed, Marie began to wonder if her mother had not taken rather too much of a shine to the Earl. After a glass of wine or two with their meal, Effie was often quite flirtatious, and Guthrie seemed flattered by the attention.
‘Mother,’ said Marie as they sat at their embroidery one afternoon, ‘you seem very fond of Guthrie.’
‘I am. And if you won’t do anything to encourage him to stay with us, then I must.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that it is more than two months now since we heard that poor Gavin had been killed, and it’s time you were thinking of your future.’
‘You surely don’t mean Guthrie?’
‘And why not? He’s rich, handsome, and you’ve known him for years. What could be a better match?’
‘I sometimes cannot believe that you are my mother. How can you say such things, when you know how I felt about Gavin?’
‘You and I have always had different ideas about life, Marie, but as I always say, live life to the full and enjoy what you can. You won’t get a better man than Guthrie, and he loves the children so much. Not many men would be so considerate. And he’s been the perfect gentleman.’
Marie remembered so many times past when Guthrie had been anything but the perfect gentleman, and she had been anything but a lady. No, she thought to herself, it can never be, she could never marry the Earl. There had been too much water under the bridge for that.
Guthrie Jamieson was relieved that Effie had gone to bed early. It gave him a chance to be alone with Marie. In a few days he would have to leave, and he felt that it was time to test the water.
‘Marie,’ he said, quietly. ‘I know that Gavin’s death has been a terrible shock, but I just wanted to say how much I still admire you. Obviously it will be some time before you will think about marriage again, but I must know—do you still feel anything for me?’
Marie flushed a deep red, and lowered her gaze. Her heart was thumping as she replied. ‘Guthrie, you have been so kind since Gavin died. I will be forever in your debt. But no, I do not think I shall ever be able to marry again. My only concern is for the children now, and to ensure they are provided for as Gavin would have wished.’
‘But you are still young, young enough to find happiness again.’
‘No, Guthrie. Please, let us not talk of this again. I am tired now, please excuse me.’ And with that, she rose and hurriedly left the room.
As he sat in the gathering gloom, Guthrie glowered at the fire. Very well, he thought, if that is the way she wants it, so be it. There’s more than one way to pluck this little chicken.
As Marie, Guthrie and Effie sat at the table after lunch one afternoon, the factor knocked and entered, looking concerned.
‘Mr McNairn. What a pleasant surprise. Is everything all right?’ Marie asked, seeing the worry on his face.
‘Weel, my Lady, I’ve been daein’ my best to keep things runnin’. But there’s a lot o’ money due, and there’s them that’ll no’ wait for it.’
‘Do you need me to sign anything?’ Marie asked, puzzled.
‘Weel, it’s a wheen more delicate, my Lady. Perhaps we cuid discuss it in private. …’
‘It’s perfectly all right. There are no secrets among us here.’
‘Verra weel, my Lady. I tried to let this lee as lang as I cuid, efter the tragic death of his Lairdship, but, weel, ye see, the reason I cannae pay the money oot is that there isn’t ony left.’
Effie leapt up like a scalded cat.
‘What?’ she screeched. ‘What do you mean, you stupid little man? The Duke was rich!’
‘Mother, please sit down! Give McNairn a chance to speak.’ Marie turned back to the factor, her heart thumping. ‘You had better sit down and explain yourself, McNairn. Please …’ she gestured towards a chair beside the Earl. ‘What is this all about?’
‘Weel, it’s jist as I say, there’s nae money left. Efter the old Duke deed, God rest his soul, he didnae leave as much as a’body thoucht—there wis the new chapel, of course, which wasnae built fur naethin’, and the guid Duke’s own tomb, built wi’ Italian mairble nae less—and then young Gavin wis taken at the battle. When we found oot he wis alive, there wis nae gold to buy him free—and to this day I dinnae ken what happened tae it a’. So, he had only twa options, tae mortgage everythin’ or tae rot in an English dungeon. Ever since, he’s worked hard, harder than any man alive, to get the estate even, but the demands o’ thae moneylenders jist get worse and worse. …’ His voice cracked, and his hand drew a parchment from inside his jacket. ‘And now this,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘What is it?’ Marie asked.
‘It’s a demand frae the English moneylenders. They want a thousand gold pieces by the end o’ the month, or the castle will be forfeit.’
‘In the name of God!’ shouted the Earl. ‘Surely this cannot be legal?’
‘Aye, it’s legal a’ right. And the money must be found.’
Effie started to wail, ‘This cannot be true. I’ll wager I know what happened! You took the money, didn’t you McNairn? Go on, admit it!’
‘Mother! Hold your tongue! If you cannot conduct yourself properly you will leave us!’
The factor looked startled and upset.
‘I’ve loyally served this family these thirty years past—’ he began.
‘You must forgive my mother. Sometimes she doesn’t know what she is saying.’
‘That’s as mebbe, but whit can we do aboot a’ this money?’
‘Is there nothing left at all?’
‘Nothing, my Lady, nothing at all.’
Marie tried to stay calm. Surely there must be some way out of this calamity.
‘Marie, you must let me help you!’ The Earl of Edinburgh looked thoroughly at ease by the fireside.
‘No, Guthrie, I must find a way out of this mess myself,’ Marie replied.
‘At least let me lend you the money you need to hold off these dogs for a while.’
‘You are very kind, but I am determined in this. I have decided to seek the Queen’s advice on the matter, and I will travel to Holyrood tomorrow.’
‘Do you think that is wise, Marie?’
‘I don’t think I have an option.’
Despite her better judgement, Marie allowed both Guthrie and Effie to accompany her on the journey. When they arrived, her reunion with the Queen was tearful—it was the first time they had seen each other since Gavin’s death—and they talked long into the night. But the Queen saw that there was something else amiss.
‘You look troubled, my dear Marie? As if you have the weight of the world on your poor shoulders.’
‘I am troubled, your Majesty. I am about to lose Naughton Castle and there seems little I can do about it.’ And so she told the Queen the whole sorry tale, as well as Guthrie Jamieson’s offer of marriage. When she had finished speaking, the Queen said,
‘There is something else, isn’t there, something about the Earl that you are not telling me?’
Marie was startled. ‘What do you mean, your Majesty?’
‘I think you are a little in love with Guthrie Jamieson, is it not so? You know you can confess to me. And such a match would not be so bad a thing, perhaps?’
Now Marie felt trapped. She could not tell anyone the truth about Guthrie Jamieson. Yes, he had been kind, but still she did not really trust him. But what could she do? Once more she was being trapped into a marriage she did not want, this time for the sake of her children. Only once had she found true love, and now that love had been taken fro
m her.
‘Oh, Marie, I think it’s wonderful!’ Effie trilled. ‘This marriage will finally solve all our problems! And he’s such a nice man.’
‘I haven’t told him yet, mother, so don’t say a word.’
Later that evening, there was to be a banquet at Holyrood, in honour of the French ambassador, who was one of the Queen’s favourites, and Marie had decided to speak to Guthrie.
The banquet was the usual grand affair, and it was very late before Marie finally had the chance to speak to the Earl alone.
‘Guthrie, there is something we need to talk about.’
‘Yes, Marie?’ The Earl sensed victory.
‘You know that the children are the most important thing in the world to me now. I cannot bear to think of them without their rightful inheritance, but even that is about to be snatched away from them. I will do anything to stop that happening. For that reason, if you will agree to pay off all the debts of the estate, then I will agree to marry you.’
‘A bargain indeed! I have waited for this moment for a long time now, and I accept your terms most willingly. You shall have your money, and I shall have my bride. And I am sure, my dear, that Gavin would have been proud of what you do today for the sake of his heirs.’
They had been standing outside the banqueting hall, and Jamieson suddenly grabbed her roughly by the arm and led her into one of the antechambers nearby. He slammed the door shut behind them and grabbed her round the waist, kissing her passionately, his strong arms tearing at her gown. She was paralysed under this onslaught, and held her eyes tightly shut. He had been such a gentleman these last few months that she was not expecting such lust from him, and now he was pawing at her breasts like the wild animal she had known before. In no time he removed her gown and bodice, and his own richly-coloured doublet, and they were making love on the floor, his powerful chest pinning her to the painted floorboards. She felt herself responding to him, after all this time, and knew that it was wrong—and yet it felt so right.
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