Queen Mary's Daughter

by Emily-Jane Hills Orford

  “Is he now?” Mrs. Dickson quirked an eyebrow, an expression that revealed her lack of conviction that what Mary Elizabeth told her was true. She stood up and walked over to the counter. She filled her kettle and set it to boil. “I think we both need a hot cup of tea. And we’ll just have to be careful what we say and do around Jamie. At least, until we know for sure.”

  Just as she said the last few words, the man himself entered the kitchen. “I wondered if you were here already.” His look was inquisitive. How much had he heard before he entered the kitchen?

  He didn’t waste time covering his facial expression. Smiling at Mrs. Dickson, he said, “Ah! Just in time for tea, I see.” He pulled out a chair at the table and made himself comfortable. “She gave me a right scare, she did. Found her curled up in a corner of what once must have been a prison cell. In the old tower, you know. Queen Mary’s tower. All dressed up in period costume, too.”

  “It is strange,” Mrs. Dickson agreed, pouring boiling water into her Royal Albert tea pot. Mary Elizabeth recognised the pattern: the forget-me-not china pattern, delicately decorated with the tiny blue flowers that appeared in early spring. Gran had the same china pattern. Forget-me-not— rather a prophetic choice of flower.

  As their hostess carried the tea pot, matching tea cups, and saucers to the table, Mary Elizabeth sat quietly, restlessly fussing with the tartan shawl that still draped her shoulders.

  “It’s the Stuart plaid,” Mrs. Dickson noted. She returned to the counter and started arranging some tea cakes and biscuits on a china plate, bringing both the plate of goodies and some dessert plates to the table, along with some napkins.

  “The Royal Stuart plaid I believe, if I’m not mistaken,” Jamie added.

  “Yes, I believe you’re right.” Mrs. Dickson took her seat at the table and proceeded to pour the tea. “You two look down right tuckered out. Some tea and goodies will do you some good and tide you over until supper.”

  “I won’t argue with you there.” Jamie chuckled as he accepted his cup of tea and took a few biscuits and a slice of ginger cake from the offered plate. “Just what the doctor ordered, if you ask me.”

  “Speaking of doctor,” Mrs. Dickson took the opportunity to change the direction of conversation, “Dr. Fergusson dropped in just after lunch to check up on his patient, but you had already left. He was relieved to hear that you were up and about and felt strong enough to venture outside for a bit of a walk. I had no idea you planned to go further than Kinross and take in the ruins of the island castle. Not that it’s any of my business. I just hope you didn’t overdo it so soon after your episode last night.”

  “And now she’s had another episode,” Jamie added. “Should we call the doctor in for another assessment of his patient?”

  “No.” Mary Elizabeth was quite adamant. “I’m quite fine. Just a little tired. Probably still jet-lagged.”

  “That doesn’t explain the blackouts and the strange costume that you’re now wearing,” Jamie pointed out, reaching for another piece of ginger cake. “This is good cake.”

  “I have no need for a doctor.” Mary Elizabeth pushed her tea cup to the centre of the table. “As nice and as competent as Dr. Fergusson is, I don’t think he would have the faintest idea how to help me.”

  “Nor do I,” Mrs. Dickson said in full agreement. “However, if he should happen to drop by for a visit, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to him. You never know. He might know a thing or two.”

  Mary Elizabeth glanced up at her hostess. She caught a hidden message in what the woman had just said, but what the message meant, she wasn’t quite sure.

  Chapter Nine

  Mary Elizabeth slept late the following morning. When she finally made her way down to the kitchen, she was surprised to find it empty. A note was perched against the sugar bowl. “Running errands. Help yourself to tea and toast. Mrs. D.”

  “Mrs. D,” Mary Elizabeth muttered the closing to herself. “I like that. Less formal than Mrs. Dickson. Although that’s a good name, too.” She shook her head. She’d have to stop talking out loud to herself. Who knew what ears were listening? She hadn’t seen any sign of Jamie, but she couldn’t be sure he wasn’t somewhere in the house.

  She filled the kettle and put it over the stove to boil. As she set about making her tea and toast, she heard the front door open and close. There was a rustling of paper and footsteps moving toward the kitchen. Mary Elizabeth glanced up just as Mrs. D walked in, well laden with bags.

  “Here, let me help.” Mary Elizabeth stopped what she was doing and made her way toward the older woman. She took the bags and lifted them onto the table. “That’s quite a load. How did you manage by yourself?”

  Mrs. D laughed. “Oh, don’t fuss so. I had some help.” The front door opened again. “Back here, Willie,” she called over her shoulder. Turning back to Mary Elizabeth, she explained, “He’s our local handy fellow. He drove me around this morning to get my errands done.”

  The man himself appeared at the kitchen door, equally burdened with packages as Mrs. D had been. “Thanks Willie. Come in and have some tea. I see Mary Elizabeth is making some. You’ve met Mary Elizabeth, haven’t you?”

  Mary Elizabeth faced Willie. Recognition dawned. “At the docks. You ferried the boat across to the island.”

  “Aye, that was me. I was helping my son out yesterday, taking over his duties for the day. I do that now and then.” He returned his gaze to Mrs. D. “I think I’ll be off, then. Thanks for the offer of tea, but my wife is expecting me for lunch, so I best not be late.”

  “Thanks again, Willie.”

  As Mrs. D fussed around the kitchen, putting away her groceries, Mary Elizabeth finished making the tea and left it on the counter to steep. She retreated to the kitchen table and took a seat, partially to stay out of her hostess’s way, but also to take some time to sort through her thoughts. She had seen Willie more than once or twice; she was certain, but where else had she seen him other than manning the tourist boat that she took to the island and back?

  She immersed herself in her thoughts, digging deep into the cobwebby background of her memory cells. As Mrs. D brought the tea to the table and took a seat opposite Mary Elizabeth with a big whoosh of relief, it suddenly dawned on her.

  “He was my escort in the past.” She shared a look with Mrs. D. “He’s a time traveller, too.”

  Mrs. D picked up the teapot and poured the tea into the two cups, pushing one across the table. “Have you eaten this morning?”

  Mary Elizabeth shook her head. “I was about to make some toast when you arrived with the groceries.”

  “Would you like me to make you some?” Mrs. D offered.

  “No, no.” Mary Elizabeth shook her head, reaching across to take Mrs. D‘s hand to stay her. “You’ve had a tiring enough morning and it’s almost lunch. I’ll just have my tea for now and perhaps one of your biscuits.” She nodded toward the cookie jar at the end of the table. “I’ll save the rest of my appetite for lunch.”

  Mrs. D’s eyes sparkled. “A biscuit would be good.” She reached for the jar and lifted the lid, offering one to Mary Elizabeth before taking one herself.

  They munched quietly for a few moments. “Mmmm. You do make good biscuits, Mrs. D.”

  “Thank you,” she replied with a twinkle in her eye, obviously approving of being called Mrs. D.

  “Now tell me, how many of us are there? Who are they? And how will I know who’s good and who’s bad?”

  “Oh my.” Mrs. D finished her biscuit and reached for another. “Help yourself.” She munched on her second biscuit, taking some time to pull together her thoughts. “So many questions. Well, first of all, I don’t know.”

  Mary Elizabeth choked on her biscuit and quickly took a sip of her tea to calm her throat. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “No one knows how many time travellers there are in the world. And no one knows who they all are. As for who’s good and who’s bad, how does one ever tell the difference?�
�� She shrugged her shoulders, lifted her eyebrows in a query, and reached for another biscuit. “I shouldn’t, but my shopping expedition did build up an appetite.”

  Mary Elizabeth followed suit. At this rate, the biscuits would be done in no time and neither one of them would have room for lunch. “But you know some of the time travellers.”

  “Aye, lass. I do. You catch on as you meet them in this time and in other times. You never know all the answers; you just have to play along like you do in anything else in life. Answers will come, one at a time.” She placed the lid on the cookie jar and pushed it back to the far end of the table. “Enough temptation. Now, more importantly, you need to find out what the purpose is for you in this time travelling exercise. I know you don’t fully know your place, yet, and you’ve only experienced a few stumbles through time.”

  “Stumbles through time.” Mary Elizabeth couldn’t help but chuckle. “I guess that’s one way to put it. How well did you know my Gran? You said she was a time traveller, too? Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “I can’t answer all of your questions,” Mrs. D said. “But, yes, I knew your Gran well. She and I were the best of friends in this time and in other times. I miss her, but I know I will see her again in another time and another place. That’s one of the benefits of time travelling. Everything is relevant to time and place, even life and death. It’s like a continuum, a continuous series of events, none of which is perceptibly different from the others, but each event ultimately affects another event. The important thing to remember is that whatever you do in the past will inevitably effect the time line into the present.”

  “If I kill my ancestor in the past, then I won’t exist in the future,” Mary Elizabeth conjectured. “There have been a lot of sci-fi movies and books about time travel. Fascinating, but I never believed it possible.”

  “Oh, it’s possible. And it’s happening all the time, all around you. There are people from the future who have come back to this time and place to alter events or to just observe and learn.”

  Mary Elizabeth sat quietly for a few minutes, pondering the concept of time travel and the continuum of life through the ages. “Is there a purpose to all of this?” She broke the silence, looking up at her hostess. “Why does this happen? And what are we, or more specifically, what am I supposed to do when I’m tossed back into the sixteenth century? And what do I do about Jamie, if he is a time traveller?”

  “I understand that you have a lot of questions.” Mrs. D took her time to sip the remnants of her tea. Placing the cup on its saucer, she studied the contents thoughtfully. “I don’t pretend to understand it all. And I certainly don’t have the answers you seek. As for Jamie? If he is a time traveller as you suspect, and he is the regent who oversaw the throne of James VI after Queen Mary’s imprisonment, then he may be someone to keep a close eye on. Is he dangerous? I can’t say. Although perhaps he might be trying to change some of the events that led to his assassination in 1570.”

  “1570! That’s only a few years after Mary Elizabeth was imprisoned and forced to abdicate.”

  “Yes, it was, so perhaps he does have some sort of agenda. Did he say anything significant to you on your boat ride over to the island?”

  “Just that he was involved in fighting for Scotland’s independence and that this Brexit scenario is making Scottish people even more determined to separate from England.”

  “Well, then.” Mrs. D nodded her head, comprehension taking root. “Perhaps his agenda has something to do with preventing Scotland’s initial amalgamation with England when King James took the English crown after Queen Elizabeth’s death. The English never did treat the Scottish people fairly. The tension has been building over the centuries.”

  “So what is my purpose in all of this?” Mary Elizabeth had to ask. “Why send me back in time? All I did was rescue a preemie baby and take her to a safe house. I think it was one of the twins born to Queen Mary. Didn’t she give birth to twins while she was held captive at Loch Leven Castle?”

  “Yes, she did.” Mrs. D studied the younger woman intently. “You witnessed the birth?” Mary Elizabeth nodded. “It’s written in the history books that the twins were born too early and died at birth. Their bodies were supposedly buried on the grounds, but no one has ever found their remains.”

  “The babies were quite premature,” Mary Elizabeth admitted. “But what I witnessed and assisted in was the rescue of the twin girl. The boy didn’t survive. The Lord of the Castle, what was his name?”

  “Sir William Douglas.”

  “Yes. That’s him. A real boor of a man, if you ask me.” Mary Elizabeth shook her head. “He came barging into the birthing chamber, something I always thought a man would never do in that time period, and he demanded to know about the birth. The ladies only told him about the boy, that he was born dead. He ordered them to dispose of the body. No one mentioned the girl.”

  “Then how did history record the birth of twins?” Mrs. D asked a question that made the younger woman ponder.

  “Someone recorded it, perhaps the regent,” Mary Elizabeth suggested. “After all, he did confront me at one of the MacGregor crofts and had me dragged back to Loch Leven Castle and imprisoned there. So perhaps he knew, but by then the living baby girl was long gone. The old lady took her. Where, I don’t know. She just seemed to vanish.”

  “The old lady?”

  “Everyone seemed to call her that. She never gave me her name.”

  “Mary Catherine,” Mrs. D informed her. “Her name was Mary Catherine. Did you recognise her?”

  “I thought I did, especially since she seemed to know who I was and why I was there.” Mary Elizabeth’s gaze was drawn beyond Mrs. D at nothing in particular, pondering the conversation and the information she had gleaned. “Another Mary. Queen Mary surrounded herself with Mary’s. And she named the wee babe Mary Elizabeth before handing her over to the old lady. Odd that the little Princess was given my name, don’t you think? And how was it that the old lady seemed to expect me on the night the babies were born?”

  “So many questions.” Mrs. D pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. She took the dishes to the sink and refilled the kettle. “I’ll make us a fresh pot of tea to go with some lunch. You must be starved. I know I am. As for the rest of your questions, I’m afraid you’ll have to find out for yourself. You need to go home, to your Gran’s house, and do some looking around. I’m sure you’ll find your answers there. I can tell you one thing, though. I know she kept a journal.”

  “She did?”

  “Hello!” Jamie’s voice came from the front hall. “Anyone here?”

  “In the kitchen.” Mrs. D shot Mary Elizabeth a warning look. “We’ll talk more later.”

  “Did I hear something about lunch?” Jamie asked as he entered the kitchen. How long had he been listening? If he heard Mrs. D mention lunch, then he had also heard about the journal, and perhaps more.

  Chapter Ten

  Mary Elizabeth knew she should be up. The sun was already making its presence known beyond the light curtains that draped her window. Mrs. D had insisted that she make plans to return to Toronto immediately. She feared for Mary Elizabeth’s state should she be drawn into the time vortex before she had done her research and knew enough to protect herself or control the place, time, and when she was drawn out of the twenty-first century. Mary Elizabeth had to admit that she was a tad scared as well. The episode at the castle had been too close for her comfort—too many evil things had almost come to fruition at her expense. And who was this Jamie Stuart who accompanied her to the island? Was he a time traveller and the regent, Queen Mary’s half-brother, in the sixteenth century?

  So many questions. Would she ever understand it all? She took a deep breath and let it out with a great whoosh of air. She couldn’t hide in her room all day. She had things to do. First thing after breakfast, she would contact the airline and see if she could change her flight. She needed to return to Toronto, to Gran’s house. She must f
ind the journal and learn all she could before she found herself in another time warp unprepared and as confused as ever.

  After a quick wash, Mary Elizabeth packed her bags in preparation to leave as soon as her flight was booked. She made her way downstairs, finding Mrs. D puttering around in the kitchen, apparently her place of solace.

  “Ah. You’re up, lass.” She greeted Mary Elizabeth with a smile. “Tea’s hot. I’ll make you some toast. Anything else?”

  “No, thanks. I think toast and tea is just the ticket.” Mary Elizabeth returned the woman’s smile. “Where’s Jamie?”

  “Left about an hour ago. Checked out, he did. Don’t know what that man’s up to, but I think he heard more than he admitted to yesterday. You need to be wary. He may show up anywhere. And you need to get back home as soon as possible.”

  The toast popped up and Mrs. D transferred it from the toaster to a plate. Mary Elizabeth helped herself to tea and sat at the table, the same seat she had taken the previous two days. Had it only been two days? It felt like she’d already been in Kinross for a lifetime.

  “Here you go, lass.” Mrs. D placed the plate of toast in front of Mary Elizabeth and took the seat opposite her. “Eat up and then make your calls. You want to get the next flight out. Unless you want to try your luck at time travel and take yourself back to Toronto that route. Might be faster.”

  “You mean like ‘beam’ me across the ocean?” Mary Elizabeth laughed. “I’m not sure I would trust myself to arrive in one piece.”

  “I could help you,” Mrs. D suggested. “It would certainly get you home faster. It’s kinda like puddle jumping in a way. That’s what your Gran called it, anyway. We take a jump back in time and then jump back into the present. Time is of the essence, I fear. Especially with that Jamie boy on the loose, wherever he’s off to.”

  “Puddle jumping? Jamie boy?” Mary Elizabeth couldn’t contain herself. She had to chuckle. It was just too funny. “You do have a unique way of expressing yourself.”