by Janie Brians
The next morning she woke to a chorus of birdsong outside her window. A tiny beam of light pierced through a small opening between the curtains and was shining right in her eyes. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, it showed the time to be eight-thirty.
"Better get up you lazy-bones," she thought, "Don't want to waste a moment." She got out of bed and went into the pretty little bathroom and showered quickly. She put on a pair of black slacks and a gold long-sleeved silk blouse. Over the blouse, she wore a tartan vest she had bought in a little shop next to Gwen's Cafe in Grief. The navy-blue, green, and red tartan complimented her blouse. After a quick inspection in the mirror, she headed downstairs. It occurred to her on the way down that she had yet to see a kitchen. She wondered where they would have breakfast.
Malcolm was already down.
"Good morning, Uncle," she said as she kissed his cheek. "Have you seen Liam yet?"
"Ay. He's down in the kitchen. Asked me to wait here for you and bring you down there."
"Down? You mean the kitchen is below us?"
"Ay. He says the original kitchen was in the center part of the house so he's made a very modern kitchen and dining area in the room beneath this one. I've been down there already, it's quite nice. All the conveniences of home."
He was right. It was a very modern, well-equiped kitchen. The room was only about half the size of the upstairs living room.
"How did you sleep? Were you comfortable?" Liam asked as he kissed Lizzie good morning.
"That bed is like a cloud, and the comforter kept me toasty. I didn't even need to turn on
the heat."
"Good. Sometimes the rooms can get rather chilly in the early morning hours."
He prepared them a typically Scottish breakfast which consisted of eggs and grilled tomatoes and Haggis. Haggis is a kind of sausage meat made there. Lizzie thought it tasted delicious. Malcolm said he couldn't seem to get enough of it since he'd been back home. Toast and jam and steaming-hot coffee completed the meal. i
After washing up, the three friends spent the rest of the morning walking around the grounds and through the parts of the house that were still safe to venture into. The Great Dining Hall, as it was called on the drawings, was in the center portion of the house. The wood paneling on the walls was horribly pitted and warped. The flagstone floor had many stones missing from it. But as Liam described his ideas for renovating it, Lizzie could envision how beautiful it had been and could be again.
Before they realized it, it was nearly eleven-thirty. After freshening up, they all met at Liam's car for the half hour drive to the home of Madelaine Thomas, owner of Balintore Estate.
"She's very anxious to meet you Malcolm. She thinks she may have stumbled onto something quite significant. She wants your opinion on what she should do about it."
“I'll try to help if I can," Malcolm said modestly.
"Does she live alone?" Lizzie asked.
"Most of the time. I think she has a woman come in to do the cooking. And she has a married couple living there. The wife is the house-keeper and the husband is a cross between butler and repairman. Madelaine's husband died three years ago and since then she has closed up a big part of the house and just lives in the one section. But she still has her gallery, which is where she keeps her most valuable aquisitions. It has a pretty sophisticated security system guarding it, not to mention the two ferocious doberman-pinschers she lets loose on the grounds at night."
They drove passed the wrought-iron gate of Balintore Estate and up to the front entrance. This place was not quite as big as McFallen House but it was more impressive. Everything about it suggested wealth and prosperity. Nothing was neglected. The grounds were immaculately manicured and Lizzie was glad to see no signs of the afformentioned doberman-pinschers.
As they parked and got out, a gentleman appeared at the front door.
"Good afternoon, welcome to Balintore," he said formally.
"Thank-you, Angus," Liam replied.
"Come right in. Mrs. Thomas is looking forward to your visit. She's waiting in the sitting room. Right this way," and they followed him across a large foyer that had a grand staircase descending from the upper floor down the center of the room. The sitting room was to the right of the staircase. Angus opened the double doors and allowed them to pass.
Madelaine Thomas came over as they entered and gave firm handshakes to Lizzie and Malcolm.
"So glad I am to meet you both," she said with a warm smile. "Please, have a seat. Mary will be bringing in tea for us shortly. It'll give us a little time to become acquainted, and then we'll have lunch."
Liam received a hearty handshake plus a kiss on the cheek.
"How are you, my boy?"
"Doing fine, thanks Maddy."
"I'm so glad you've all come. It gets a tad lonely here sometimes. After lunch we can have the grand tour, if you like. Although most of the place is covered in sheets, I can still show you this end of the house and my 'gallery', as I like to call it."
She was a small woman, but at the same time very sturdy looking. Her shoulder-length hair was mainly grey with streaks of black still running through it. Her clothes were of good quality but looked almost mannish on her. No lace or bows for her. She wore common-sense slacks of a khaki color and a tailored linen blouse. She looked to Lizzie as if she was ready to head into the jungle at any minute. She was very definitely her own person, but not at the expense of warmth and hospitality. Lizzie liked her immediately.
This sitting room was about the same size as Liam's, but it seemed much smaller because of all the furniture and knick-knacks it contained. There was barely enough floor space left to walk to the couch. It seemed to Lizzie as if every available space was taken up by a chair or table or a pile of beautifully bound books. Some of the furniture was quite lovely, while other pieces were strange and did not look as if they were really meant to be used. There were many items from the Orient. Chairs, for instance, that were intricately carved and definitely not for sitting on. Wooden masks with savage expressions hung on one wall and beneath them several spears and what Lizzie thought must be a huge tortoise shell. Madelaine explained that those were items used by African warriors more than two-hundred years ago.
Malcolm seemed to enjoy going through everything with her. Lizzie sat on the couch with Liam, drinking tea. She felt a little uncomfortable in the room. She was afraid of knocking something over so she stayed put there on the couch.
"Most of the things in this room aren't irreplaceable. Although there are some pretty valuable pieces," Liam said in a low voice, "this is just her 'trinkets' room, as she calls it." "She certainly has plenty of them," Lizzie answered.
"The gallery is where she keeps the really valuable things. But don't worry, it's far less crowded than this room and much more tastefully arranged." He smiled and winked at her.
Lunch was delicious. Steak and kidney pie, served fresh and piping hot from the oven, warmed them on this rather chilly afternoon. Madelaine, or Maddy as she insisted on being called, told them animated stories of her travel experiences over the years and was extremely interested in hearing about Malcolm's travels as well. Althouugh Lizzie was truly enjoying the lunch and conversation, she was becoming more anxious to see what Maddy had been wanting to show them.
Finally, as if reading her thoughts, Maddy said, "If everyone is satisfied, perhaps we can begin the tour."
As they were taken through several of the rooms upstairs that were still in use, Lizzie said quietly to Liam, "She's a regular pack-rat! I've never seen so much stuff."
"She never returns from an 'expedition', as she calls her trips, without plenty of souvenirs. But she can certainly afford them so, why not?"
Once they were finished with the second floor, Maddy led them down the center staircase
and across to the far side of the foyer. She stopped in front of a thick wooden door. On the wall next to the door was a keypad. A tiny red light shone above it. Maddy pressed a series of numbers on
the pad and the light changed to green. Taking a key from a pocket in her slacks, she then unlocked the great door and pushed it open for them to pass through.
"And here we are at the room that is my pride and joy. Please come in."
Liam had been right. This room was very different from the mishmash of the other rooms. Here was a tastefully organized and pleasingly decorated room. A Louis XIV couch of rose-damask sat in the center of the room facing a fireplace that had a mantle from the same period, according to Maddy. Above the mantle was a Renoir. On the mantle were three very delicate porcelain figurines that she told them she'd acquired from another collector near Versailles, France. They were reputedly the property of Marie Antoinette and had somehow escaped destuction during the French Revolution.
"I paid quite a price for these three darlings, but when I saw them I just had to have them."
"They are very beautiful. They look almost real," Lizzie said in amazement, not daring to touch them.
"Over here," Maddy said, walking to the corner of the room, "is a brazier from the Ming Dynasty. Isn't it lovely," she said with pride in her voice.
"Ay, and it's in perfect condition too. Quite a treasure, Maddy!" Malcolm's admiration was obvious in his voice.
There were several other pieces of art, a few sculptures and, on the wall opposite the fireplace were what appeared to be Old World sketches. The tiny initials at the bottom corner were too indistinct for Lizzie to make out. She asked Maddy what they were.
"My dear, though you can't tell the artist's initials on front, the backs of these sketches have more writing on them. In Italian. These were found in an old upper chamber of the Sistine Chapel. They are sketches drawn by Michelangelo himself. Can you believe it?"
"How did you ever manage to get them?" Lizzie asked in almost in awe.
"I wish I could say it had something to do with talent on my part, but really it was just a matter of being in the right place at the right time. In other words, pure chance. Fortunately, my sizable donation to the church was, at the time, more valuable to them than these sketches were."
"They'd be worth millions on the open market now, Maddy," Malcolm told her.
"I know, but I'd never willingly part with any one of them," she said emphatically. "Now, let me get the little item I've been dying to show you. Malcolm, would you like to come with me? It's in a vault in the other room."
"Can you believe the wealth in just this one room?" Liam whispered beside Lizzie as Maddy and Malcolm left the room. "It's hard to imagine it. These three sketches alone would more than pay for restoring McFallen House."
"A few times over, I should think. Maybe she'd donate them to you," Lizzie joked.
"Ha!...you heard her, 'she'd never willingly part with any of them'," he quoted.
Maddy and Malcolm returned from the other room. Malcolm was holding a small, and obviously very old book.
"It does seem authentic," he was saying. "You could take it to the museum in Edinburgh. They have a variety of tests that they can run that won't damage it, but could be helpful in determining its authenticity. If what she writes is true, then this really would change the history books."
"What is it, uncle?"
"This seems to be the diary of a servant to Mary Queen of Scots written while she was imprisoned in Loch Leven Castle. In it, the woman writes that on the night that Mary gave birth, she heard very distinct and seemingly robust cries from babies. Now according to history, Mary gave birth to twins but they died at birth. This woman writes that they were very much alive at birth, but that by the next morning she no longer heard any sounds of babies at all. She didn't know whether they were murdered by Mary's enemies or were smuggled out during the night to save their lives. She says that the next morning Mary didn't seem upset about anything, which certainly she should have if they'd died or been murdered. This woman also says that a few days later, on May 2,1568, Mary was helped to escape. Soon afterward, according to history, for some reason Mary entered England and threw herself on the mercy of her cousin, Queen Elizabeth."
Maddy picked up the account, "Before I purchased this diary, I decided to try to find out if there was any other evidence to verify this information. I first went down to London, but didn't have any success there. But when I was reading up on the story of Mary and her last husband, Lord Bothwell, I learned that Bothwell fled to Denmark when Mary was forced to abdicate the throne in Scotland. So, I went to Denmark to see if I could find something there. I examined several very old ship's records at the historical museum in Copenhagen. Just as I was about to give up, I saw an entry for a Danish passenger ship named the Arhus. Lord Bothwell was registered as a passenger on that ship. Also, further down the list, were a Mr. and Mrs. Doring and their two three-week-old sons. I thought that had to be significant since, by my calculations, Mary's and Bothwell's babies would have been the same age. It seemed too coincidental to me, so I tried finding out more on the Dorings. Seemed they emigrated to Denmark and were, upon their arrival, immediately hired by Lord Bothwell to serve as his man-servant and housekeeper. They never returned to England or Scotland. Unfortunately, I could find nothing more about their children," she finished.
"So you suspect that those two boys were really the sons of Mary and Bothwell and that they were smuggled out of Loch Leven and taken to Denmark?" Lizzie asked.
"I think it a likely possibility," Maddy answered.
"But I thought you said that when Mary escaped she went to England. Why would she do that if she had two infant sons to think about?"
"Well, lass," Malcolm offered,"remember, she'd been forced to give up the throne. Maybe she hoped to gain it back somehow. Maybe she was more of a queen than a mother or, since her first son, James, was still just a child and had been declared King after her, she might have felt that she shouldn't leave him. Who really knows? Perhaps as long as her sons were safely with their father, she felt no need to be with them right then."
"I've read that she had written letters to Bothwell after she'd been taken into custody by Elizabeth," Liam added. "They were written in French but were supposedly translated into English. It was said that the translation of those letters proved that she had known of the plot to kill Darnley and so they were used as evidence against her. She was found guilty of murder and was later beheaded. The original letters and the silver casket in which they'd been found disappeared while Mary was still alive. What if they were really letters from Mary to Bothwell mentioning something about their sons? Maybe her enemies destroyed them to keep anyone else from learning of her sons who would be two more heirs to the throne."
"Could be. Or perhaps someone kept the letters in hopes of finding the boys themselves and using them for their own purpose, either on Scotland's behalf or England's," Malcolm said.
"Well, whatever the case, those letters are long gone by now. And we'll probably never find out what really happened to those boys. This diary doesn't mention the names they were given so we wouldn't even know who to look for. But it does seem to substantiate what has, up till now only been rumor: Mary did give birth to twins and they lived, they were not born dead, as history records," Maddy said. Turning to Lizzie she added with a rueful smile, "This may not really help with the crest, dear, but I thought you'd find it interesting just the same."
"It is. Everything about Mary has always been interesting to me. There were so many mysteries surrounding her life."
As Malcolm began giving Maddy suggestions on how to proceed with the diary, Lizzie walked over to where Liam stood looking up at the Michelangelo sketches. He was deep in thought.
She touched his shoulder lightly and said, "A penny for them."
He put his arm around her shoulder and said, "They're not worth a penny, love." Changing the subject, he continued, "Seems like there really wasn't very much here to help you in you search. Sorry."
"Don't be. I meant what I said to Maddy and besides, I wouldn't have missed this for anything."
By the time the three visitors left Balin
tore Estate, it was nearly four o'clock.
"That's truly an amazing place," Malcolm said as they drove out through the gate.
It was drizzling rain as they headed back to McFallen House. Lizzie had decided that she
was going to call Anne later that evening. There was so much to tell her. She was anxious to tell her about McFallen House and Balintore Estate. She knew she had to wait until probably eleven o'clock because of the time difference. She wanted to be sure Anne would be home. She had been back in her room for only a few minutes when there was a knock at her door.
"Lass, you awake?" Malcolm asked through the door.
"Of course," she said as she opened it. "What's up?"
"I've got a hankerin' for some ale. Liam says there's a good pub in town, so get yourself wrapped up again and let's the three of us head over there. My treat. What d'ya say?"
"I'd love it. Be right down."
There weren't many people at the Golden Thistle Pub when they first arrived, but within the hour the placed filled up. While they were waiting for their dinner to come, Malcolm decided to run over to the bookstore across the street. There was a book he'd seen in the window that he really wanted to buy before the store closed.
As he left, Liam said, "I like your uncle, he's an interesting fellow, but I'm glad we have a few minutes to ourselves," and he covered Lizzie's hand with his.
"Me too," Lizzie smiled at him and then noticed something out of the corner of her eye on the seat next to her. It was Malcolm's wallet.
"Oh, this must've fallen out of his back pocket. I keep telling him it's not the safest place to put it. I'd better run it out to him before he gets too far away. Sorry, Liam, I'll be right back." She left the pub and saw Malcolm just crossing the street. As she was about to call him back, she saw Chris Dean walking out of a shop a few doors behind. She saw him clearly this time. There was no mistake. She shouted at Malcolm to stop and when she turned to see where Chris was, he was gone. Malcolm came walking back to her looking rather put out.
"What is it, lass? I've got to get to that store before they lock the door on me."