Queen Mary's Daughter

by Emily-Jane Hills Orford

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  EDINBURGH CASTLE, JULY FIRST, YEAR OF OUR LORD 1603

  Mary Elizabeth sat tall on the white filly. She missed her trusty mare, Queenie, but this new horse, one of Queenie’s brood, was just as fine, just as trustworthy, just as understanding of her mistress’s moods. She was pleased to make this historic march on the first day of July. How many times during her growing up years in the future had she enjoyed the pomp and ceremonies surrounding the day? As a young girl in Toronto, the Canada Day celebrations had always made her feel proud and excited and happy, all at the same time. She had chosen this date specifically. At least for her, centuries before Canada even became a nation, it held significant meaning.

  The royal cape, deep blue velvet, edged with soft ermine, and lined with many of the tartan plaids of Scotland, draped over her shoulders and stretched along the hind quarters of her horse. She wore the traditional plaid of the Royal Stuart clan as a tartan sash across her shoulders, held firmly in place with the brooch that had been given to her that day in Kinross, when she had made her first journey back in time. The bold red, the dominant colour of the Stuart plaid, matched the red velvet lining of the Royal Scottish crown that she wore on her head, not to mention the jewels encased in the gold filigree of the crown itself.

  Jamie had jumped across the time vortex to claim the Scottish crown, the one that King James VI had worn on his journey south to become King James I of England, Ireland, and Scotland. Jamie had secured the Royal Crown of Scotland at great risk. But with his efficient time travel skills, the crown was now back where it belonged – in Scotland and on the head of the Scottish monarch. And, if all went well, the throne of Scotland would not be shared with the throne of England and Ireland —not now, and not ever.

  Jamie had returned with the crown just in time for Mary Elizabeth’s official coronation at Scone Castle near Kinross. The Stone of Destiny was at Scone Castle, and it was on this stone, in this castle, that all the Kings and Queens of Scotland were crowned. It was tradition.

  Wearing the crown again, as Scotland’s anointed Queen, Mary Elizabeth rode with pride in this parade to officially welcome her to the city of Edinburgh and to the people of Scotland. Her people. Her country.

  She chanced a quick look at her nephew riding beside her. Prince Charles sat up straight in his saddle, obviously pleased to be part of all the excitement, not to mention the attention they both received from the crowds. He, too, wore the colours of the Royal House of Stuart, and he appeared every bit as regal as his aunt. He gazed up at her from his shorter mount at the same moment that she flashed him one of her bright smiles, meant only for the young prince. The boy’s father would not be pleased, but his aunt certainly was.

  This procession, along the Royal Mile from Holyrood House to Edinburgh Castle, was the newly-crowned queen’s opportunity to address her people. The route was packed with well-wishers. The risk was evident, however. Jamie remembered quite well how his uncle, the regent, had been assassinated while riding this route. He had taken every precaution and doubled the guards in many dubious points along the way. To add to the security of the new queen, Jamie had insisted that she wear a bullet proof vest under her state garments. She had resisted, claiming it was not in character with the times, but Jamie had argued that it was in the best interest of the times, and he had gone to great lengths to obtain one in the twenty-first century and bring it back in time.

  She had given in, not wanting to alienate the only supporter left from her original group of time travellers. After her coronation in Scone, Gran and Lady Mary Catherine had both passed away within days of each other. Gran had blessed her granddaughter, Scotland’s new queen. She had also given her the treasured journal, the one Lady Mary Catherine had mentioned back in the future, before all of these puddle jumping adventures began. Mary Elizabeth hadn’t yet had the time to study the journal, but she knew it contained considerable information and lots of sound advice. That, and her mother’s letters, would help sustain the queen and see her through troubled times. The treasures were tucked safely away in a secret compartment behind a stone next to the hearth in her private chambers. Gran had told her where to hide it. She had often hidden important documents in that spot during her reign as Regent of Scotland.

  She missed her grandmother terribly, but she knew that both her mother and her grandmother were watching her from a special place in the hereafter. She also knew she would see Gran and Lady Mary Catherine again, as they claimed to have jumped from the future of the twentieth century to her future as Queen of Scotland in the seventeenth century. In the meantime, she would try hard and work hard to make their plans for her future worth the effort, so that they would witness her good works on their occasional visits. She had a purpose. She always did have a purpose, only now she was fulfilling it.

  “Long live Queen Mary Elizabeth of Scotland. Love live the queen!” The chants and well wishes carried her along the route as she nodded, and waved her silk gloved hands in recognition and appreciation of her people and their praise. Her people who had come out to render their support and their affection. Her people, she liked the sound of that.

  They approached the castle gates without incident and made their way through another large gathering to the far end of the grand courtyard. The queen reined her horse around and faced her people. Prince Charles did the same with his pony, keeping close to his aunt’s side, taking in all the pomp and ceremony with great pleasure. The people cheered in response to her presence until she raised her hand to signal silence. They also cheered for the young prince, obviously pleased to notice that he had endeared himself to the new Queen of Scotland.

  “My good Scottish people,” she spoke in a loud, commanding voice. Wouldn’t her grandmother be proud of her? The shy little girl who couldn’t find the courage to give a small presentation in front of her class at school had transformed into a powerful monarch with a voice that demanded attention.

  “My good Scottish people,” she said again, flashing her smile from one end of the courtyard to the other. She was met with more cheers and it took a few minutes before silence allowed her to continue.

  “We are at a crossroads in our history, one that requires our strength, our passion, our perseverance, and our unwavering belief in the path set before us.” She paused briefly to allow her words to sink in. “I had a dream,” she called out clear and bright. “I had a dream our country was united with England and Ireland and the generations of feuding with our English neighbours had gone against us. In this dream, generations of proud Scottish clans and proud Scottish lords and earls and proud Scottish people were wiped out as the English overran our country, destroying and pillaging both our land and our people. I had a dream that this land we call home, this land we are so proud to call our own, became as much our enemy as the English lords who sought to obliterate us all. This land that has cared for us generation after generation became the scourge that sent our people scrambling to find new homes in new countries to avoid inevitable starvation and worse if they stayed in the land of their birth. I had a dream, and it was not a nice dream. I never want any of that to happen to our country or to our people.”

  There were mumblings amongst the crowd. She settled it, quickly, by carrying on with her motivational intentions. “I have a dream, my good Scottish people, of a much more promising future. In this dream, Scotland remains strong and free, prosperous and safe for all of our people, for now and forever. In this dream, we never allow our southern neighbors to take control of what has always been rightfully ours. In this dream, we stand up for our independence and we keep our country and our people strong and free and independent for now and forever.”

  The crowd picked up the fervor and chanted the last few words. “For now, and forever!” The chanting became louder and more insistent. “For now, and forever! Long live Queen Mary Elizabeth of Scotland. Long live the queen!”

  To which the queen responded, “Long live Scotland, strong and free!”

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nbsp; “Long live Scotland, strong and free!” The words echoed across the courtyard. “For now, and forever!”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  TOWER OF LONDON, JULY TWENTY-FIFTH, YEAR OF OUR LORD 1603

  “What do you mean, she has amassed an army bigger than anything we have seen for generations?” The king stormed his chambers, his coronation robes swirling behind him flippantly as he paced, first in one direction and then in another. “We had all the northern ports well-guarded. How did she make landfall and find her way south to Edinburgh with nary a conflict to hinder her progress?"

  “The guards at the port were Scottish, your Majesty,” George, still the Captain of the king’s Guard and still in the king’s favor, if not his bed, responded nervously. “They believe in her cause and were easily coerced into joining her army.”

  “And she has crowned herself Queen Mary Elizabeth of Scotland? How could she? How dare she?”

  “She insists, your Majesty.” George backed carefully toward the door, not wanting to get too close to the mounting anger of this volatile and tempestuous king. “She insists that you recognise her claim and allow the Scottish people to remain free. She was crowned in Scone, kneeling on the Stone of Destiny, Scotland’s coronation stone, and then she marched through the streets of Edinburgh wearing the Royal Crown of Scotland.”

  “The one I wore as I rode to London,” the king added as he continued to pace. “How did it end up back in Scotland? I thought it was safely locked in the Tower with England’s Crown Jewels.”

  “We are still looking into that, your Majesty,” George muttered under his breath. It clearly was a mystery that wouldn’t be easy to solve. One day it was there and the next it was gone, a note lying on the spot where the crown had been placed: “For now and forever”.

  The king stomped his feet as his pacing intensified with his growing anger. “I understand that she gave an impassioned speech.”

  “Yes, your Majesty.” George shuffled his feet, looking at the floor rushes to keep his gaze averted from the king. “The messenger quoted it word for word. Or so he claimed.”

  “Yes, I heard it. All of it!” King James held his hands against his temple in the hopes of wiping out the vision that haunted him daily. He was supposed to rule three countries, to wear the crown of three countries. And now some slip of a girl claiming to be his sister had taken away one of his crowns. All because she believed in the freedom and independence of Scotland. “For now, and forever,” the king repeated the same words he knew his sister had proclaimed loud and clear for all of the Scottish people to hear. She had repeated those words over and over again. “Does she not realise that I have promised the Scottish people their own home governing body?”

  “It does not matter, your Majesty,” George pointed out, equally restless in his position as messenger between two royal siblings. “She claims that your position of power will only be effective during your lifetime of rule, and you cannot guarantee what happens to the Scottish people at the hands of the English in generations to come.”

  “But neither can she,” the king argued. He ran a hand through his hair, anger marking every facial expression and movement he made. “NEITHER CAN SHE!” he shouted.

  “She claims that she can, your Majesty,” the Captain of the Guard dared to add.

  “And this is the news I must hear on the day I am to be crowned King James I of England, Ireland, and Scotland!” The king stormed even more purposefully from one end of his chamber to the other. “We will fight back. Scotland is my birthright. And so is England and Ireland. I will not have some little lass who claims to be my sister take it all from me.”

  “She does not want the crown of England and Ireland, your Majesty, just Scotland.”

  “Get out! I will be crowned King of all three countries and I will take my army north to meet her on the battlefield. That is where this will be settled, once and for all. For now, and forever, as she keeps claiming.”

  “Yes, your Majesty.”

  The door closed quietly behind George. The king stood alone by the window, anger seeping out of every pore of his being. He had planned and prepared for this day all of his life. How could it so easily be torn away from him? And by no other than the one who claimed to be his sister?

  “You have your father’s easy temper.” Mary Elizabeth stepped out from the shadows in the far corner where she had been standing for some time. “It does not suit you. But, then again, it did not suit Henry Darnley either. Perhaps his feeble-minded efforts to take control of your mother’s court were the seeds of his downfall. And here you are, just like him, plotting to keep it all for yourself. You, your Danish wife, and your many male lovers. How dashing! But you cannot, James!”

  “King James to you.” The king confronted the woman who walked slowly toward him. “And you should curtsey to your king.” His voice held a hint of a vicious snarl.

  “So like your father.” She shook her head, tutting a note of disappointment at her brother’s actions and his words.

  “How would you know?” he challenged. “He died before you were born.”

  “Oh, I know quite a lot.” Mary Elizabeth watched her brother intently as she spoke. “And I will address you as James. You are my brother. We are alone, just the two of us. There is no disgrace in royal siblings addressing each other by their given names. And, besides, I am of equal rank to you, having just been crowned Queen of Scotland.”

  “Never!” James yelled, waving his hand dismissively at the woman before him. “I will have you executed for being the witch that you are.”

  “You mean executed like our mother was.” Mary Elizabeth tapped her chin pensively. “I never could figure out why, when you came of age and took over the role of King of Scotland, you did not demand the safe release of our dear mother into your care.”

  “That is none of your concern.” The king started to pace restlessly. “It was all political.”

  “Oh yes, I can see that! You wanted to keep yourself in the good books of the Queen of England so that she would declare you her heir. And you did not want Mother returning to Scotland and rousing up the clan chiefs to defend her claim to your throne. Neat and tidy, was it not? With Mother out of the way, you had nothing to fear. You believed England and Ireland would be yours once the Queen of England died. And you believed the Scottish people would not mind you taking the throne of their generations-old enemy in order to unify the three countries. James, you should know your history better than that.”

  Mary Elizabeth started to match her brother’s pacing, back and forth from the window to the hearth to the door and back again. “The Scottish people do not want to be aligned with England. Not now, not ever! Have you ever given any consideration to the people you were chosen by God to rule? Or is it just a big game of power?”

  “Guards!” the king yelled. “Guards!”

  “You will recognise me as Queen of Scotland, James.” The voice faded away. “Or I will meet you on the battlefield and we will win! The Scottish people will maintain their independence. For now and forever.”

  “Guards!”

  George and the Yeoman of the Guard rushed into the king’s chambers. “Arrest her.” He pointed toward the far wall, his hand shaking with unbridled temper.

  “Who? Your Majesty?” the guard asked.

  Mary Elizabeth had vanished.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  HOLYROOD HOUSE, JULY TWENTY-FIFTH, YEAR OF OUR LORD 1603

  “Her Majesty, Queen Mary Elizabeth of Scotland,” the queen’s guard announced at the door of the grand meeting chamber. His voice carried across the room, silencing all manner of chatter and foot shuffling. The pounding of his mace on the floor accentuated his demand for attention.

  Everyone stood to attention. As the queen marched into the chamber, they bowed courteously and remained so until she stood before her throne at the head of the room, beneath the paned windows with a large banner depicting the Royal Stuart crest hanging high and centred.

  �
�Honorable clan chiefs and Lords of Scotland, welcome.” The queen waved her hand graciously over the assembled throng. “Please be seated and we will begin our first meeting of the Scottish Parliament.” It had been over a month since her coronation and several weeks since her ceremonial march through the streets of Edinburgh. She had made many jaunts across the countryside, visiting the lords of the land and the larger communities, raising morale and welcoming her people with open arms. For it was she who must welcome her people, not the other way around. She might be here in this time and in this place by the grace of God, but she was also queen only as long as her people accepted and acknowledged her as such.

  There was a rustle of movement as the chairs were pulled back from the long table that stretched the length of room. As the queen sat, so did everyone else.

  “This is an important day in Scottish history,” the queen began. “I mark it as the beginning of the new Scotland, strong and free. For on this day, in London, our former King James VI is to be crowned King James I of England. He intends to claim Scotland as part of his prize, to combine, to amalgamate all of us together as one. But we are not one. We never have been and never will be one. We are Scottish and proud of it.”

  “Here, here,” everyone shouted at the top of their lungs, banging their fists on the table in unison.

  As the din died, someone distinctly added, “For now and forever,” and the new chant took root.

  Mary Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile at her clan chiefs and lords. Every leader in Scotland and many from northern England were presently in her council chamber, cheering her on and ready to discuss the first orders of business.