"You may be right But it is also true what James said. That without him parliament had no authority. It is King-in-parliament that rules." "Authority, no. But influence, a vast deal. That is what I say- they need each other, and so must come to terms, one day." "Not this session, I swear!"
9
THE HILLS WERE hazy blue on every hand in the early August sunshine, the heather was beginning to purple, and the corn to yellow in the valley floors as the two friends rode pleasantly up the wide and fertile vale of Strathearn, with a trio of armed grooms well behind, all the Highland Line ahead of them. The swallows darted, the bees hummed amongst the meadow-sweet, a pair of buzzards circled on seemingly motionless pinions high above, and all was for the moment well with their world. London and the Court seemed very far away, almost in another life-and one which neither by any means pined for. Had they asked themselves seriously why indeed they continued to put up with such a life, when they both could, in fact, have opted out of it, defying royal displeasure, undoubtedly each would have been hard put to it to answer adequately. Mere men are all to apt to find themselves in such a position, when they pause for a moment to think about it George Heriot had been up in Scotland for nearly a month. His business in Edinburgh was still large and demanding of periodic visits, with his half-brother James only a competent but unimaginative manager. With hundreds of thousand of pounds Scots on loan, and many estates held as security, most careful vigilance and over-sight was necessary. James Heriot was well enough for looking after the jewellery and small loan side of the enterprise; but the estate and nobility side of it had him floundering.
Ludovick of Lennox, on the other hand, had only just arrived from England, sent up by the King-or, more truly, only allowed to come up, as he was ever wishing to do, by James, as suitable escort to bring South the little Prince Charles, now considered sufficiently strong to stand the journey and join his parents. A doctor and an apothecary had been sent up with him, to minister to the prince, and these had been dispatched directly to the Lord Fyvie's house at Dunfermline Abbey while the Duke made a detour to Methven to see Mary Gray and his son. In Edinburgh, he had persuaded Heriot to accompany him.
Methven Castle stood on a green shelf above the cattle-dotted water-meadows of the Cowgask Water six miles west of Perth, a tall, commodious and pleasant house of mellow brown stone, all towers, turrets and crowstepped gables, a fortified mansion rather than a true castle, and a fine place and large property to be the demesne of so small a laird-for the Duke had made over the entire estate to his infant illegitimate son John, in free gift, mainly as a device for providing a suitable home, station and income for the mother, Mary Gray, and such as that independent young woman could bring herself to accept So Mary Gray was chatelaine at Methven, in the name of the ten-year-old John Stewart of Methven.
Mary Gray, informed of their coming, met them at the ornamental bridge over the burn from Methven Loch built by Queen Margaret Tudor, during her third marriage, to Henry Stewart Lord Methven. She looked a picture of wholesome, healthy yet delicate loveliness, essentially modest and without artifice-which was, of course, as misleading as any Court lady's painted facade. Jumping from his horse, Ludovick ran to her and picked her up in his arms and went dancing around with her thus, in significantly unducal fashion, Heriot grinning his pleasure but concerned lest his presence cramped their style.
He need not have been, for these two were for a little quite lost in each other. When Mary eventually detached herself and came laughing to the other man, she was quite unabashed and entirely natural.
"Dear Geordie Heriot!" she cried, if a little breathlessly. "How good to see you. Welcome to Methven-and forgive your hosts who have not seen each other for so many months. It has seemed so long. You are well? You are scarcely ruddy, either of you!" "London is scarcely the place to win ruddy cheeks, Mary…" "Blushes, now-that is different!" the Duke put in.
"So I hear. Alison sends me notably full letters-a deal better than yours, Vicky! I learn much of what goes on-and even some of your own ongoings, gentlemen. You would be surprised how knowledgeable I am."
"About you, my love, nothing could surprise me!" the Duke declared. And on that note, asking for their son, a move was made to the house.
The boy John was found, helping with a late sheep-shearing at the farmery, a sturdy, level-eyed, self-reliant lad, most obvious son of his father, who made duteous greeting to his parent but clearly preferred to continue with his task amongst the oily fleeces meantime, none constraining him. The newcomers were very quickly absorbed into the quite busy domestic rhythm of a country household, a small self-supporting kingdom-or queendom-and found nothing to complain about Ludovick in especial metamorphosed into his true self of landed laird and practical farmer.
There was, of course, much to be related, on both sides, much discussed and debated, personal as well as political and dynastic; but it was not until evening, round an aromatic birch-log fire in Mary's sitting-room, that the young woman broached the subject which she had hinted at once or twice previously. "How secure sits the King on his English throne?" she asked.
"For but sixteen months on it, more secure than I would have expected," Ludovick replied. "He has thrown down the gauntlet to parliament and has a fight on his hands, there. He will not achieve this union which he seeks, I think-and for that, I for one rejoice-but he has the Church and the nobility accepting him as master. And less apt to call him fool and buffoon than they did a year past" "And the people? Do they love him?"
"No-o-o. He makes little effort that they should. But they are coming to love Anne, I think. At least the Londoners are."
"That is what Alison writes, also-and though she is young she lacks nothing in shrewdness." Mary plied her needle for a few moments. "If, then, there should be trouble between King and Queen, James's position would suffer? Grievously?"
"Always there has been trouble between James and Anne," Lennox said. "They are as unsuited as man and woman can be. But they know that they must put a face on it For their own sakes, for the realm's sake. They will go their own ways-but will not break their ultimate compact, I think." "I agree," Heriot nodded.
"They may not will it so. But others might. Others might contrive to break that compact For their own purposes. Might not that conceivably bring down the King? Or injure him greatly?" "Patrick?" Lennox jerked.
"Who else? Patrick still has to achieve his vengeance. Moreover, he is much against this incorporating union. He says that it would ruin Scotland. He worked for a union of the crowns, worked as few others did. But not for this other, this union of states. He will stop it if he can."
"I think he may not need to stop it. The English parliament will perhaps do that for him."
"But you suggest that the Master of Gray will seek to do it by breaking up the royal marriage?" Heriot asked. "If he can,"
"I think so. With my father it is always difficult to be sure. He covers himself so well. But others with whom he must work are sometimes less discreet And, as you know, his wife the Lady Marie confides in me. With a view to lessening something of the harm he may do." "Not another plot, lass…!" "Scarcely a plot, this time. More a slow campaign of destroying. Did you know that he has written to the Queen, informing her that when she was so greatly sick after the miscarriage at Linlithgow, had she died the King was all prepared to wed the Lady Arabella Stewart? At once." The two men stared at each other, minds boggling.
"How long since he wrote it, I do not know," Mary went on. "Even if it is really true, I do not know. His wife found the draft of his letter, undated in a doublet pocket. It may have gone weeks ago-or but recently. Is it true, think you?"
"I do not know. I do not know. This is the first I have heard of it But… with James, who can tell?"
"The Queen has disliked the Lady Arabella from the first," Heriot said. "I wonder…?"
"This new pregnancy of Anne's brings the issue to the fore again. She has miscarried twice now. And been gravely ill…"
"Pregnancy!
Anne-she is pregnant? But… 1" The Duke turned to Heriot. "Is it possible?- You knew naught of this, Geordie? It cannot be true. We have heard nothing."
'You men! I have known of this a month and more. She expects in March. Ah, I can see you counting 1 June it means- conceived in June, or thereabouts."
"But… but Anne and James scarce ever spend a night together. They have separate palaces, he at Whitehall, she at Somerset House. She told him at Windsor, in our presence, that she would be a queen but no wife to him. Because of his young men…"
"Yes, Vicky-and so you play Patrick's game! As will others. This is what he wants-doubts as to the paternity of the child. If the King himself so doubts-or pretends to. And now Anne believes him ready to wed Arabella should she die. If such is the talk of the Court-as it will be-then the royal marriage can scarcely be said to flourish." "But… but…"
'There are many hits, yes. Patrick will not have failed to think of them all, you may be sure. And planned accordingly."
"There must be more to this than you have told us, nevertheless," Heriot put in. 'To declare that the child is not the King's is not enough. He requires a named father, does he not? And that, I think, would be difficult for even the Master of Gray to provide. In such circumstances. Moreover, one who will not himself deny it-or deny it sufficiently lukewarmly to leave grave doubts. I can think of none who might fit or fit the timing."
"But then, Geordie, you have not Patrick Gray's mind! His kind of mind. Whereas-God forgive me-in some degree I have! What think you of Patrick, Earl of Orkney?"
Lennox drew a sudden long breath; and his friend opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it again almost with a click. They sat silent.
"June, you will recollect, was the month for this child to be conceived, or thereabouts. Late May would serve. And, as you know, the Earl of Orkney was in London in May-indeed, near fought a duel with the King's Sir Philip Herbert. Some drunken escapade. Did not you speak for him, with the King, Vicky?"
Lennox's swallowing was audible. "Yes," he admitted. "Yes. He is a distant kinsman of my own. Not a man I love. But… nor is Herbert! They came to blows over some horse race…" "But he did appear at the Queen's Court for some days?"
"Yes. He had been to France. Where we Stewarts have estates, as you know. On his way home, he came to London…"
Patrick Stewart, second Earl of Orkney, was brother-in-law to Patrick Gray, the Lady Marie's brother. He was eldest son of the late Robert Stewart, first Bishop and then Earl of Orkney, the King's uncle, one of the many bastards of James the Fifth. He was a youngish man of smouldering if heavy good looks, violent passions and utter lack of scruple-that, and a notorious ladies' man. He loathed his cousin James with a well-known and undisguised hatred-for sufficient reason.
Mary's hearers had ceased to interject buts. They gazed at her with a sort of reluctant and unhappy fascination, perceiving now something of the implications of her suggestions.
"You recollect, in '96, eight years past, that the King had the Master of Orkney, as then he was, tried on a charge of consulting with witches? Ten witnesses died under James's questioning, in his attempts to convict his cousin. Only my father saved him-on Lady Marie's beseechings. But we all knew that it was not truly witchcraft that James held against him-that was but a convenient device to which it was possible to produce ignorant witnesses who could be persuaded to swear anything under torture. The true reason was because the King suspected dalliance between the Master and the Queen."
"Aye-but the King suspected many of dalliance with the Queen. Myself included 1" Lennox exclaimed. "As you know, Anne was indiscreet A neglected wife. The Earl of Moray, too. That bad business at Donibristle…"
"Yes, Vicky. But the Earl of Moray is dead. And the King now trusts you. But Patrick of Orkney is still… available. I do not say that there was ever any truth in the tale of dalliance at that time, any more than in yours-although he has no good reputation. But James believed it. Which is all that matters-then or now-for my father's purposes."
"He will prevail on Orkney to say the Queen's child is his?" Heriot said.
"I believe that to be his intention-so Marie fears. The Queen and he have been much together of late. And this new visit to London is altogether to the point…"
"New visit to London?" the Duke repeated. "What is this? Orkney?"
"Have you not heard? The Earl of Orkney and his brothers are to pay a visit to his cousin's Court at Whitehall, by royal invitation, in October. At the same time as Duke Ulric of Holstein, from Denmark-the Queen's brother. It appears that the Duke and Orkney are friendly. There are to be high doings."
"I knew of Ulric's coming-but not this of Orkney. You think Patrick has contrived it? Your father?"
"Either contrived it or is using it What will happen in London I do not know. But I think it will not be to the King's benefit"
Lennox rose, to pace the floor. "This is damnable!" he said. 'To seek to hurt James by destroying Anne's good name and reputation. But-what can we do? It is like the other, only more difficult. The plot over young Henry. It is all a matter of rumour, conjecture, supposition. No proofs, nothing we may grip." "At least you can warn the King. And the Queen."
Heriot spoke. "James will not thank us for telling him this. As it now stands. He conceives us fearful at shadows, scaremongers- or pretends to. He ever demands proofs, sureties. And the Earl of Orkney is, after all, his own cousin." "You are fortunate to have even conjectures to go upon, where Patrick is, concerned," the young woman pointed out "I cannot swear to you that all this is planned just as I have told it Or, indeed, that there is not more to it than this! But the Earl of Orkney is to travel to Court in October and his brothers with him. And Patrick Stewart, like Patrick Gray, has an account to settle with the King!"
"We must warn James, yes, and Anne too," Lennox acceded. "But whether they will heed, or what they can do…?"
"The King is no fool-as we all know," Heriot said. "He may seem to scorn us-but may pay some heed, in fact, and take his own precautions."
"It will not be easy to broach the matter to Anne, either." Lennox pointed out "To suggest to her that there are doubts as to the paternity of her unborn child!"
They considered each other unspeaking, for a while, as the birch logs hissed and spluttered.
***
After the precious stolen few days at Methven, reluctantly they left to ride south by east the thirty miles to Dunfermline, and duty. Mary rode with them so far, to gain a little longer with her Duke.
The grey climbing town above the northern shores of Forth was loud with the sounds of busy hammers and saws and stonemasons' malls, as Chancellor Seton, Lord Fyvie, added a fine new wing to the ancient palace of Malcolm Canmore, beside the abbey founded by Malcolm's English queen, where the hero Bruce and his wife lay buried. The Chancellor had a passion for building, and somehow the funds for indulging it-where the money all came from was something of a mystery, even though he had married a rich wife. Admittedly Dunfermline had been the richest Church property in all Scotland at the glorious Reformation of fifty years before-which was why Patrick Gray himself had managed to procure it during the years in which he was acting-Chancellor; but it was not in fact wholly Fyvie's property, for in theory it still belonged to Queen Anne, as part of her jointure, and he was only Hereditary Keeper.
The newcomers found all in readiness for them, indeed waiting. And they quickly perceived why it was that the Master of Gray had made no attempt to use little Prince Charles as a pawn against his royal father. The child, now four years old, was in fact a poor creature physically; as to mentally, this was not entirely clear, for although he could speak, he scarcely ever did so-although his eyes were bright enough, large and lustrous like the King's. Otherwise, he was undersized, feeble, the legs so weak that he could scarcely stand alone much less walk. Whether he had an actual impediment in his speech was uncertain at this stage-although James had given his doctors instructions as to how to cut the string of the boy's tongue the bett
er to bring him to eloquence, which however Fyvie had refused to allow while the child was in his care. This, then, was the shrunken, big-eyed mite who waited for them at Dunfermline-and who would by no means have served the Master of Gray as puppet-king.
The doctors and apothecary sent up for the journey agreed with the resident physician, Atkins, that the child, carefully cherished and not overtired, was fit to travel. The Chancellor was only too glad to get the little creature off his hands-although he had treated the prince kindly enough.
And so, on a misty morning, a start was made by boat for Edinburgh; and farewell taken of Mary Gray on the quayside at North Queensferry. Ludovick of Lennox was a silent man thereafter all the way to the capitaL
The boy was no trouble, at least Two nurses and the physicians looked after him adequately, carrying him everywhere. He cried little, ate little, slept a lot, and seemed interested in what went on; but he spoke not at all-although one of his nurses swore that he could speak, that he spoke to himself quite lucidly when he was asleep.
Despite not hurrying or taking over-long journeys each day, Prince Charles took considerably less long to reach London than had either of his parents-this because they had no entertainments, no receptions, no hunting, to detain them. Ten days after leaving Edinburgh Lennox delivered the child into his mother's hands at Somerset House-the King was away hare-hunting at his new estate of Royston in North Hertfordshire. Anne wept at the sight of him. They left her trying to coax him to speak. Between them, Lennox and Heriot had agreed that one should approach the King and the other the Queen on the subject of Mary Gray's suspicions. While the obvious choice seemed to be for Heriot to speak to his 'auld gossip Jamie', Lennox would not hear of telling Anne. The Queen and he had never been the best of friends, he said, since the unfortunate business which had led to James's accusation of dalliance between them. He would prefer not to open this most delicate subject with her. He would deal with the King.
The Wisest Fool mog-4 Page 20