The Gowrie Conspiracy

by Alanna Knight

  A middle-aged man was being forcibly ejected by the kitchen staircase.

  Powerfully built, he was putting up a strong resistance to the palace guards, shouting and cursing those who struck him with the backs of their swords.

  Looking round he saw Tansy, Tam and Will who were too far away to go to his assistance even if they had felt free and able to tackle his captors. He shouted in their direction:

  ‘They will not let me see her. They tell me nothing. She is a prisoner in there,’ and, indicating the kitchen, ‘One of their whores.’

  A guard kicked him, another struck him across the face. His mouth bleeding, they dragged him to his feet and, still protesting, marched him towards the gatehouse.

  Tansy shuddered and whispered, ‘I trust the bottle dungeon is not his destination. Men have been lost and forgotten there.’

  It was another ugly scene of violence and although it did not appear to be any of their concern, Tam was glad indeed that he would be soon away from royal intrigues and enjoying the new experience of Gowrie House, which by all accounts sounded delightful.

  What he would do there, what the future held after the Murray wedding, he had not the least idea. Perhaps this interlude was only what it sounded like, a short spell away from Falkland Palace before returning again with Tansy.

  That he was bound to do eventually, anyway, as to return to his own time he must be in the exact place in the garden where Tansy had awakened him.

  If only something would happen soon.

  It would seem that so far that his quest was a wild goose chase. Merely the unsuccessful investigation into the murder of a midwife who had been present at King James’s birth.

  However, Martin Hailes sinister hints and information had been suitably impressive and if it were possible he would have used all his powers to move back to Edinburgh thirty-four years ago, especially to meet the mysterious and powerful Janet Beaton.

  Chapter Thirteen

  An unexpected complication developed in their plans to leave Falkland, in the diminutive form of Jane Rose. Her deep attachment to Tam Eildor had now spread to Tansy too and the prospects of being left behind, even under servant Martha’s motherly care, terrified her.

  ‘We will only be away for a short while,’ said Tansy but Jane refused to be consoled.

  ‘Please, Mistress Scott, dinna leave me here,’ she cried, and to Tam standing by, ‘Please take me with you, Master Eildor.’

  Tam put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Jane, if you come with us … what if your uncle comes back? Surely he is the one you most want to be with.’ He smiled. ‘Staying here was only meant as a place where you could wait for him in safety.’

  Biting her lip, Jane frowned. ‘I ken that.’

  For a moment it seemed that, overwhelmed by the grandeur of living in a royal palace, meeting new friends, she had forgotten the reason for her flight from Edinburgh in the first place.

  Shaking her head stubbornly, she said with dogged insistence, ‘But I like biding wi’you and Mistress Scott. That is what I want more than onything else.’

  ‘Very well, Jane. We cannot promise but we will discuss it,’ said Tansy.

  Out of earshot, she said, ‘I suppose there is no real reason why she should not accompany us. Another servant does no harm and besides she is very useful with her needle.’

  They had not told little Jane of their suspicions regarding Davy Rose’s mysterious disappearance. Since it was obvious he was unaware of her impulsive flight from Edinburgh and might be taken aback to find his little niece living in the palace, Tam decided that if she went with them to Perth, then word must be left with someone concerning her whereabouts. For the increasingly remote possibility that her uncle was still alive.

  ‘The minister would be the most likely contact seeing that Davy used to work for him,’ said Tam.

  ‘Perhaps he will have some useful suggestion,’ said Tansy with an uneasy feeling that she had been adopted by little Jane and that the child was looking to her to be responsible for deciding her future.

  Tam wandered across to the church, empty but for the solitary figure of Rev Benton in deep meditation.

  Tam’s polite cough roused him and staring short-sightedly he presumed that Tam was one of his parishioners.

  Before Tam could open his mouth, he said quickly, ‘Ah yes, I remember. You lost a loved one very recently – it was, er –’

  Frowning he looked hard towards the altar as though it might assert miraculous powers of supplying him with the deceased one’s name. And ignoring, or more likely not seeing, Tam’s shake of the head, he launched into an account of the many blessings awaiting the faithful in heaven.

  Dismayed to find himself the recipient of what indicated all the symptoms of developing into a long sermon, Tam interrupted,

  ‘Sir, you are mistaken.’

  The minister’s jaw dropped in shocked surprise. ‘Mistaken, I am never mistaken,’ he said sternly. ‘We have the God’s word on the subject – here.’ As he opened his Bible to search for the relevant passage, Tam took the opportunity to say gently,

  ‘Sir, the reason I came here at our first meeting was my search for David Rose. We met on a later occasion when I was taking his little niece to the Palace.’

  The minister’s face froze in disapproval, ‘Quite so, quite so.’

  An awkward silence followed. There were no more Biblical quotations forthcoming and Tam said, ‘We … I … am about to leave the Palace and I hoped –’

  Suddenly aware of the futility of leaving any message for Davy Rose and in the hope of a more permanent solution to the problem of Jane, he said weakly,

  ‘I hoped that I might find someone to take care of her.’

  Rev Benton’s look of disapproval intensified. ‘We have no charity for – for such – fallen creatures, I fear. Once on that wicked path they have chosen to travel, for these unfortunates there is no coming back. The Lord tells us –’

  Once again Tam found himself trapped, a congregation of one, in a sermon on Biblical whores, fallen women and soiled doves, Jezebel being the one name he recognised.

  He had no option but to listen politely, giving the minister his head and deciding that the unfortunate man was not only short-sighted but a little out of his wits, for Rev Benton had confused him with some other member of his parish. Aware of the popular duration of sermons lasting several hours and that time was of the essence, he chose a moment when the minister had stopped to draw breath.

  ‘Sir,’ he interrupted, ‘I must leave. Matters await me. My apologies.’ A quick bow. As he hastened down the aisle and out into the kirkyard, he was conscious of the minister’s face glaring after him, shouting,

  ‘Take heed, ye of little faith!’

  Frustrated by the outcome of trying to leave a simple message for the perhaps permanently absent Davy Rose, Tam decided to visit his house once more and there leave a note concerning Jane in the hope of it being found.

  The door was firmly closed. He let himself in cautiously but without any expectations of finding anyone at home.

  One glance was enough to tell him that someone else had been here since his last visit two days earlier. The papers were no longer scattered on the floor and there was a general air of tidiness and occupation.

  As he stepped cautiously inside, the door was closed violently and the man who had been hiding behind it anchored Tam in an iron grip around his neck.

  Choking, he struggled to free himself as his captor cursed and shouted,

  ‘At last! So you have come back. You villain – you will pay for this with your life.’

  It was the voice he recognised. That of the man they had seen ejected from the kitchen of the queen’s apartments. Suddenly his identity was obvious.

  ‘Sir – ’ Tam gasped with considerable difficulty. ‘Master Rose – is it not?’

  ‘Aye, that’s me – ’ he said, shaking Tam vigorously. ‘And what have ye to say for yerself?’

  ‘If you would release me, I
will explain.’

  ‘Ye have plenty o’ that to do. Wretched creature – villain.’ And so saying, with no intention of letting Tam go before he had dealt with him, he began a rain of strong and painful blows to his head and shoulders.

  Davy Rose was bigger and stronger than himself. Tam, however, knew a great deal more about wrestling than was available to people living in the sixteenth century. In his own time there were no wars. Such conflicts had long been considered barbaric and obsolete. All nations were now united together, barriers down, in one world and it was left to individuals to rid themselves of aggressive feelings by studying the martial arts in the same manner as gladiators in the circus of Ancient Rome.

  Memories of such expertise came back to him and twisting out of Davy Rose’s grip, he threw him to the floor, from whence the man looked up at him stupefied and amazed. He was even more amazed when Tam held out his hand, dragged him to his feet and holding him firmly, in one swift movement sat him down at the table as if he weighed no more than a child.

  Panting, he stared up at Tam, shook his head, wondering what – or who – on earth was this creature who could lift a man almost twice his weight.

  ‘Now, sir,’ said Tam with a grin, ‘might we call off our dispute and talk like civilised people?’

  Rose nodded slowly, shaking his head again in a bewildered fashion. ‘Who are ye?’

  ‘Tam Eildor, not that it need concern you – you do not know me, we have never met. I saw you being thrown out of the royal kitchens by the guards the other day. How did you escape from the dungeons?’

  ‘They only threw me out of the gatehouse, with a warning. But I will be back. I havena finished wi’ them yet.’ And with a furious look. ‘I intend to find the foul beast who stole my little Jane – and kill him. Wherever he is – he will no’ escape from me.’

  Tam looked at him soberly and bowed. ‘Your search is ended, Master Rose.’

  The man’s head jerked upwards. ‘How so? Ye ken this – creature?’

  ‘I do, sir. He is standing right before you now.’

  That was too much. ‘You are the vile bastard who sold her – as – as a whore.’ And Rose sprang to his feet prepared to launch another attack.

  With one hand, Tam thrust him back into the chair, held fast his flaying fists, ignoring his shouts and curses.

  ‘Listen to me, Master Rose. I can assure you – and you can ask Jane yourself – I have never laid a hand on her, nor has anyone else. Any who did so would have me to answer to. She is my responsibility – she came to me seeking help – ’

  The man growled, ‘Help, is that what ye call it – ’

  ‘Will you listen? I came in search of you one day and found her hiding under the bed yonder. She had walked all the way from Edinburgh to find you, she was cold and hungry.’

  Pausing, Tam regarded Davy thoughtfully. ‘Now explain, what makes you think she has been sold as a whore?’

  The man scowled. ‘That vile dress she was wearing. I saw her in the pageant, I slipped over the railings. A bairn like her, dressed like a whore, her bosom – almost naked – ’

  ‘Stop!’ Tam demanded. ‘When she arrived at your door here, you were the only person she could turn too, she was in rags. We had to find some garment to cover her, and one of the queen’s dwarfs’ dresses was the nearest at hand. She liked wearing it … she’s just a child. Do you not understand, it was just like a pretty gown to her.’

  Her uncle did not look convinced. ‘Why had she left Edinburgh?’

  Tam regarded him soberly. ‘She was in flight from her foster-father.’

  ‘How could that be? Was she being punished for wrongdoing?’

  Tam shook his head. ‘No, her foster-father, this Bart, was the wrong-doer.’ And choosing his words carefully, ‘He had attempted many times to – to come into her bed.’

  Rose’s eyes bulged. His face turned scarlet as he roared, ‘That bastard – that villain – I will kill him for this.’

  ‘What you do to him is your own affair. When I found Jane so distressed I could not leave her here so I took her over to Mistress Scott, who is the queen’s broiderer. She has been looking after her.’

  A thought struck Rose. ‘What were you doing in my house in the first place, Master Eildor?’

  ‘I came looking for you to – inform you – about Margaret Agnew,’ he said leaving it at that as he wondered how much Rose knew already.

  Davy Rose put his hands over his face and sobbed. ‘My poor Margaret. I didna ken about her accident. I knew naething until the minister told me and I saw her grave.’

  Tam put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I am sorry for your loss. Mistress Scott too, for they were friends.’

  With considerable effort, wiping away the tears. Rose looked up at him and whispered, ‘What happened? What caused it? – she was such a careful lass.’

  Tam took safe refuge in the official version of the accident with the shears, rather than reveal that Mistress Agnew had been murdered, which would certainly have driven such an inflammatory person as Davy Rose into instant and fatal action.

  He ended his account by asking, ‘Where have you been this past week?’

  Rose bit his lip, studied Tam for a moment and whispered, ‘Can I trust ye? Ye have the look of an honest man. I had been called away – my cousin was sick and dying in Perth. I stayed twa days and when I came back – I realise now that must have been the very day Margaret died – I surprised robbers in the room here.’ Pausing, he looked around recalling the scene. ‘They were riffling the press over yonder – searching through papers. Instead of running away, they seized me, dragged me out of the house with them.’

  ‘Why should they do that?’ asked Tam, knowing perfectly well what the answer would be.

  ‘They said they had questions to put to me.’ And with a shudder, ‘They said if I didna oblige then there were – other means. I kenned well they were hinting at the boot –’

  Tam decided this was confirmation of his own thoughts. No ordinary robbers but men with an official task, with instructions about what and who they were looking for.

  ‘They didna get very far,’ said Rose. ‘I managed to overpower them in the darkness, gave them the slip. One was a weaselly-looking craiter,’ he added contemptuously. ‘But I decided to be cautious and stay away for a while, so I went back to Perth – in time for my cousin’s funeral,’ he ended sadly.

  There was a slight pause before Tam asked, ‘Did these robbers find what they were looking for?’

  Rose smiled craftily. ‘I think not.’

  ‘Did you know what it was they had in mind?’

  An evasive glance, a shake of the head.

  Tam studied him carefully. ‘May I ask – had it something to do with Mistress Agnew?’

  That question was obviously unexpected, for Rose looked at him sharply, demanded, ‘Why do you ask that? What do you –’

  He bit his lip, stopped and Tam finished the sentence for him. ‘What do I know? The answer is nothing.’ Hesitating, he added, ‘May I ask you what was your relationship to Mistress Agnew?’

  Rose shrugged. ‘Man to man, I can tell you. She was my wife in Scots law – by habit and repute. I would happily have made her my legal wife, since I have been a widower for the past twenty years. But she would have none of it, she said marriage was forbidden in royal service without the queen’s permission.’

  ‘Had she any dependants of her own, family of any kind?’

  ‘Bairns, ye mean. None – or kin that she ever mentioned. She had been orphaned early, brought up by her granddam. She was like myself widowed early, but she never talked about her man.’

  He looked at Tam. ‘Why are ye so interested in Margaret Agnew? The robbery had naught to do with her, I assure you.’

  ‘I just wondered, seeing that she was midwife to the queen, perhaps she was in possession of confidences.’

  ‘What kind of confidences would that be?’ was the cautious response.

  Tam shrugged, said casual
ly, ‘Documents, perhaps.’

  Rose shook his head, looked vague but considerably ill at ease. And Tam knew in that instant that Davy Rose was perfectly aware of what he was talking about.

  It was all falling neatly into place. The missing document Martin Hailes had told him about signed by the two midwives present at the king’s birth.

  And now all too late, on the eve of his departure from Falkland, Tam believed he had the answer to why Mistress Agnew was murdered.

  Aware that he would get no more information from Davy Rose, he said, ‘With regard to Jane, Mistress Scott happily employed her as a seamstress.’

  Rose looked surprised. ‘That wee bairn?’

  Tam smiled. ‘She is thirteen. How long is it since you saw your niece?’

  Rose sighed. ‘Not for several years. I thought her to be younger than that.’

  ‘She is very happy with Mistress Scott and has settled down well. Unfortunately Mistress Scott has leave to go to her family at Gowrie House for a while.’

  ‘Gowrie Palace, they used to call the Ruthven’s town house. I ken it well. One of my cousins was steward there,’ he added proudly.

  ‘I am to accompany Mistress Scott as Jane has no idea that you have returned home. I take it she did not know of Mistress Agnew’s part in your life.’

  Rose shook his head. ‘They never met.’

  Tam continued, ‘Jane is very unhappy at the prospect of being left behind when we depart, frightened and bewildered. She would like to come with us.’

  ‘There is no need for that. Her home is with me. I dare not show my face near the Palace again, so bring her across, if you please. I believe it is time we both moved on. And I have a safer haven in mind,’ he added wryly.

  And so Jane and her uncle were speedily reunited to their mutual delight. Jane, with promises that she could rejoin Mistress Scott in the sewing-room once she returned from Perth, set about her temporary farewells to the other servants. Most especially to her exciting new friend, the Captain, in whose company Jane had become an almost daily visitor to the kitchen.