9 Nov - Queen & court leave Jed for Kelso (2 nights, 9th & 10th)
11 Nov leaves Kelso for Home Castle, then Wedderburn
Berwick
Dunbar
18 Nov - Mary in Dunbar, writes to Elizabeth asking if son James can be her successor
20 Nov arr Craigmillar
After her recovery from her dangerous illness, Queen Mary left Jedburgh and went to Kelso, where she spent two nights; she then went to Home Castle, Langton, and Weddertrarn, and visited Berwick, accompanied by 800 or 1000 horsemen. There she was received by Sir John Forrester, deputy of Lord Bedford, who rode out to meet her, and caused a royal salute to be discharged in her honour. After viewing the town she resumed her journey, visiting Coldingham, where she spent a night, and thence to Dunbar and Tantallon. She at length reached Craigmillar Castle, where she remained until she had to go to Stirling for the baptism of her son the young prince.
1567
Lord Darnley murdered by Earl of Bothwell - whom Mary then marries
Mary later imprisoned - Moray becomes Regent
1568
Mary escapes, raises an army which is beaten by Moray's forces at Langside. Borderers fight on both sides. Mary escapes to England - and eventual execution
Queen Elizabeth appoints Henry Carey, Lord Hunsdon, as Warden of East March and Captain of Berwick - a hard man, sets about the reivers
1569
Moray leads military raids into Scottish West March: border brought under control - with the exception of Liddesdale.
October: Moray rides against Liddesdale again. Eventually Armstrongs, Johnstones, Elliots and Grahams give pledges to refrain from warlike activity
Alexandra Graham - English. Daughter of Simon and heiress to Kersdale Keep. High cheekbones, full lips and hazel eyes. her eyes glowed with some emotion he could not identify, her lips gleamed softly, and her skin looked so smooth and delicate it was almost translucent. mischievous smile and green-flecked eyes. Long lithe legs. Slim. Rough breeches, loose tunic and cloth bonnet. Boots made of finest calf leather with brass buckles and the daintiest of heels. Risk-taking, impetuous, restless energy. GOAL: to be independent as a horse-master FLAW: impetuous. Needs to learn to think before she acts
Michael Cranstoun - Scottish. Deputy Warden of the Scottish Middle March. Laird of Penchrise and Master of Stobs Castle. Face of a viking. Hair the colour of burnished gold and eyes that gleamed carnelian blue with eyelashes so long they could have graced a maid. powerful muscles, lean, well-muscled frame. Powerful shoulders with rippling muscles lay above a wide chest with just a few bold golden hairs between the tiniest pink circles with their proud nubs that led her eye over the ridges and curves of his stomach. Deep-blue doublet, white shirt, cloak, breeches, black leather boots. Calm, even-handed, sees both sides of issues, strong sense of justice, wry sense of humour. GOAL: xx FLAW: Prejudice against English
Alexander, Lord Home, warden of the Scottish East March
Archie (o' the Bell) Armstrong of Whithaugh
(Bert Robson of Bewcastle)
Mrs (Beth) Beattie - Michael's housekeeper
Dod Armstrong of Mangerton - a villainous-looking character with a red beard
Duke - Alex's horse (black stallion)
Evan Graham - a tall man with a shock of dark hair and an athletic frame. Simon's brother, Alex's uncle.
Francis Russell, Earl of Bedford - Warden of the English East March
George Gordon, 5th Earl of Huntly
George Seton, 7th Lord Seton - half-brother of Mary Seton and Master of the Queen's household
Henry, Lord Scrope - Warden of the English West March
Henry Stewart, Lord Darnley - Mary's husband and cousin - 19yo when they married, narcissistic and power-hungry. Vainglorious, rash and hazardous
Hob Forster - white teeth, round face, a teenage boy with a shock of red hair and dressed in a similar fashion to Alexandra.
James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell - He was high in his own conceit, proud, vicious and vainglorious above measure, who would attempt anything out of ambition. His reckless daring appealed to Mary's romantic sentiments, while his strong character and resolute purpose contrasted forcibly with the weakness of her husband Darnley, and his inability to control or protect her. Straightforward and brutal. 30yo, 5'6", not handsome despite having a string of female conquests. Strong-featured, burly, hot eyes, thickset, muscular, out-thrust jawline, dark cropped hair and a moustache. rough maleness, dashing behaviour. Protestant. He made it his greatest occupation from the time he was at school, to read and study books of necromancy and forbidden magic. GOAL: To raise his status in the eyes of the queen, and rise to the top; to be the queen's man. FLAW: arrogance and lack of empathy
James Stewart, Earl of Moray - Mary's half-brother; illegitimate son of James V
Lady Jean Gordon - Bothwell's wife and Huntly's sister
Jupiter - Mary Queen of Scots' dog
Little Jock Elliot of the Park -
Sir John Forster - Warden of the English Middle March
Sir John Maxwell - Warden of the Scottish West March
Libby (Elizabeth) Logan of Preston - one of Mary's ladies' in waiting. Sister of Sir Robert Logan of Restalrig (c.1555-July 1606), whose mother, Agnes Gray (daughter of Patrick Gray, 4th Lord Gray) remarried (<= 1565) to Alexander Home, 5th Lord Home after the death of Robert Logan of Restalrig Snr. They were keepers of 2 Tower Houses at Preston, north of Duns. a shy girl with silky fair hair and a curvaceous figure
Mary Beaton - 23 and married in '66. Married Apr 1566 to Sir Alexander Ogilvy of Boyne. pretty and plump, with fair hair and dark eyes; inclined to daydreaming. Studious. Prettiest; most classically beautiful of the 4?
Mary Fleming - 24 and unmarried in '66. Nubile good looks, 'venus' in beauty, quick-witted, flirtatious; mischievous, overall most attractive. 'The Fair Fleming' She was the only one of the four who would take Mary's dares and could outdo her in mischief. And she was the only one of the four who was pure Scots. Youngest of Maries but 'most senior' because of Royal blood. Flirting with Maitland but not married to him till Jan 1567. Nicknamed 'La Flamina' because of her flamboyant personality. Dark hair with vivid blue eyes and full lips. cheeks dimpling. With sparkling blue eyes, waves of dark hair peeking from under her embroidered cap, and an obviously curvaceous figure hidden under her riding clothes, she was beautiful. Possibly even more so than the queen.
Mary Livingston - 25 and married in '66. Spirited. 'Lusty'. Enjoyed dancing. Married John Sempill March 1565
Mary Seton - 24 and unmarried in '66, a tall, plain, fine-featured young woman. Vow of chastity. Hairdresser)
Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots - elegant, flirtatious, hair looped up into a white linen coif, courageous, virtuous, spirited, beautiful, gay, amiable. tall and graceful, with perfect white skin and laughing eyes. Dressed simply for travelling, she was still fashionable and comely, wearing a gold-embroidered velvet cloak over her heavy dress and white ruff, with her lustrous auburn hair looped up under a matching pearl-studded velvet hat, topped with a dancing white feather. Green eyes. GOAL: To prove herself strong to the Protestant lords FLAW: Too often led by her heart
Mist - Michael's favourite horse (grey gelding) grey cob, fit and strong, dark eyes, velvety muzzle
Peter Forster - a small, solidly-built man with more hair on his chin than his head. Bondsman to Simon Graham.
Robert Elliot of the Shaws - leader of the Elliots who negotiated with Bothwell
(Lang Sandy Armstrong
Iron Simon Graham, Lord of Kersdale - fierce black eyebrows, grey (steely) eyes, gruff voice. Alex's father.
Spirit - Michaels horse - fine-looking bay gelding, strong back and clean limbs, his canter felt like you were riding on air, his trot like it could carry you forever.
Stonegarth brothers
Sir Thomas Kerr, Laird of Ferniehirst - as dark and wiry as Michael was fair and broad
Tom Turnbull - Michael's liegeman
Sir Walter Ker - Warden o
f the Scottish Middle March. A thickset man with a drooping white moustache. Deep-green cape.
William Livingstone, 6th Lord Livingston - 38 in 1566. Brother of Mary Fleming and member of the Privy Council. A wide man, with curly dark hair and an out-thrust chest, strong eyebrows and a wide mouth.
William Maitland of Lethington - Mary's Secretary
Silverbeard
Stonehead
Halberd
Fulbert
Farmers, drovers, shepherds, millers, spinners, fishermen, woodmen, even brewers and tanners.
Medieval Names
And don't forget you can just stick a medieval suffix on some names. For example, -vin or -wyn means FRIEND:
Alvin, 'friend of all'
Baldwin, 'bold friend'
Calvin, 'faithful friend'
Devin, 'friend of the divine' or 'poet'
Elvin, 'friend of elves'
Kelvin, 'friend of ships'
-Smith (metalsmith)
-(name)-bard (storyteller or minstrel)
-Cooper (barrel-maker)
-(name)-son (son of "name")
-ley/-leigh means 'from the field', -lock 'lake', -well, -wise/-vis, -rick/-righ (king), -ton 'town', -wood, -ward 'protector', -drake (dragon), -brook & -burn 'from the stream', -stone/-ston, -wyk/-wich 'man', -mond/-mount, -bert 'bright', -hill/-dale/-tor/-crest (hill), -row (path or line), -brake (hedge)
CHAPTER ONE
LUXURIATING IN THE warm water, Alex felt her muscles relax and her worries melt away. Now that Mrs Beattie had stopped fussing and gone back to attend to the queen, Alex had the room to herself, and she gazed with interest around Michael's chamber.
Simple wooden furniture sat against the walls, but pride of place was given to the four-post bed, hung with heavy drapes and, if she remembered Michael's boast correctly, adorned with a feather mattress. Mrs Beattie had left a drying-cloth and some clean clothes on top of the green coverlet.
The castle was larger—and grander—than she had imagined. Whilst not on the scale of Hermitage, it was solidly built in grey stone, with an impressive vaulted entrance-hall on the ground floor and an oak-panelled great hall above that. A spiral stairway led to the upper chambers, including this one and the one where the queen recovered from her fall.
I hope Her Grace has not caught a chill, Alex thought as she stepped out of the bath and began to dry her damp skin. She herself had recovered quickly, but the queen had suffered the worst during their ordeal, and hadn't had the benefit of Michael to warm her on the way to Stobs.
Pulling on yet another set of borrowed clothes, Alex eyed the large bed. It looked so tempting. Could she just give it a try?
Without further consideration, she impetuously flung herself onto the mattress, bouncing softly as she hit the inviting surface. It was delicious. Possibly the most comfortable bed she had ever lain on. And it could be yours, a traitorous thought whispered, if only you weren't so stubborn.
* * *
Michael hesitated outside his chamber. He didn't want to interrupt Alexandra, but he, too, needed clean clothes before they met with the queen again. For their presence had been requested, now that the queen had bathed and dressed.
He rapped on the oak door. "May I come in, Alexandra?"
"Yes," came the reply, and he pushed the door open to find Alexandra sitting on his bed, her hair curling damply around her shoulders and her skin glowing softly in the candle-light.
Even in mis-fitting, borrowed clothes, she was breathtaking.
In two strides he had crossed the room and crushed her into his arms, his lips seeking hers and his hands tangling in her hair. He had acted on instinct, without thought of their estrangement, but to his joy she returned his kiss with passion.
Caught between them, her hands moulded themselves against the muscles of his chest, and a soft moan escaped her lips.
Breathing harder, he pulled her closer, cupping her backside in his hands and wrapping her legs around his thighs so she would press against the length of him, for he was once more undone by her mere presence.
She gasped, and then took his face in her hands, deepening their kiss and writhing her hips, causing sensations so delicious his legs started to buckle.
Pushing her backwards onto the bed, he half-knelt on the mattress, arms braced either side of her and gazing down at her heavy-lidded eyes and flushed skin.
Under his ardent gaze, she swallowed, nervously wetting her lips. "Sire," she breathed.
"Yes, m'lady?" he touched his lips to hers, then rained butterfly kisses along her jawline until he nuzzled her earlobe. "What would you have me do?"
In lieu of reply, she reached up an arm to pull him down. "Hold me," she whispered.
Leaning on one arm, he trailed the tips of his fingers down her side; trickling over her ribs, skimming her waistline, brushing over the swell of her hips and down her thigh. "I thought you were mad at me?" he teased.
A smile tickled her lips. "Likewise."
He laughed, and it broke some of the tension between them. "Much as I'd like to, we should tarry here no longer. The queen awaits."
Standing, he pulled her back into his arms for one last kiss, then looked down at her. "Now, Alexandra,"
"Sire, if you're going to kiss me like that," she interrupted, "mayhap we should be less formal. Call me Alex." Her eyelashes fluttered. "My friends do."
He nodded, and touched a finger to the tip of her nose. "Alex," he emphasised, then pointed down at their clothing, "we need to dress properly, and go to the queen."
* * *
Mary sat in a heavy oak chair, her secretary Maitland, and her lady, Mary Fleming, by her side. Wearing borrowed—but blessedly dry—clothes and wrapped in a blanket, she had finally stopped shivering. A fire glowed in the grate and her hands were wrapped around a posset of wine and milk that warmed her insides. She was ready to face the next part of this long day.
When Michael and Alexandra entered the room, Mary was pleased to notice that he had a possessive hand laid on the small of her back. Perhaps they have reconciled, she thought, but kept her face straight.
"I asked you to join me," she looked each of them in the eye, "to extend my gratitude for your 'eroic actions earlier. You saved my life, and on be'alf of the people of Scotland, I want to 'onour you for your bravery.
"Alexandra," she indicated for the girl to take a step forward. "If it was not for your courage and quick thinking, I would 'ave drowned in that evil mire. As a mark of gratitude, I wish to confer some lands on you—Gilston Peel near Oxton, forfeited by my rebel lords. 'Tis closer to Edinburgh, and will be more convenient for when you work wiz me."
Alexandra gasped. "Your Grace! 'Twas not for reward that I helped you. I would've tried to save anyone—" Her cheeks pinking, she put a hand to her mouth. "Forgive me—I didn't mean to imply that you are just anyone, Ma'am, but—"
"I understand." Mary stifled a smile at the girl's discomfiture. "But I still wish to compensate you. You could 'ave died. And," this time she allowed herself a smile, "as a landowner, you will become a citizen of Scotland," she glanced sideways at Michael, "which means you are free to marry a Scotsman, should you wish."
Then she turned to her secretary. "Maitland, give me your sword."
Weapon in hand, she stood up. "Cranstoun," she pointed at a point on the floor in front of her. "Please kneel."
The laird's brows creased, but he did as she asked.
"Michael Cranstoun of Stobs, for acts of bravery and loyalty to your sovereign," she tapped him with the flat of the sword, first on the right shoulder, then the left, "I, Mary, Queen of Scots, dub thee knight, in the name of God and in the presence of these witnesses. Arise, Sir Cranstoun."
He blinked at her. "Ma'am?"
Mary flicked upwards with the tip of the sword. "Arise," she repeated.
A dazed look on his face, Michael got to his feet.
"And when—if—you are wed, Alexandra will be Lady Cranstoun." She raised an eyebrow at the Englishwoman. "Per'
aps that will convince your father to allow the marriage."
CHAPTER TWO
IT WAS WELL past dinner-time when the queen's party finally arrived back in Jedburgh. The queen having borrowed a fresh mount from the stables at Stobs, Alex was riding Duke once more, and rode wide-eyed through the cobbled market-place and down towards the queen's house. The town was bigger than she'd imagined; the ruined castle above and the shadows of the hulking abbey below giving the impression of a place of import.
"There are stables behind the orchard." Michael nodded at the stallion. "I will bed him for you, if you wish to join the ladies?"
She shook her head. "It has been a strange day for him," she said, laying a hand on the horse's shoulder. And strange for me too. "I'll see to him myself."
Ten minutes later, she had Duke unsaddled and settled in a fresh straw bed, tucking into a manger of oats.
She, for propriety's sake, was to bed in the queen's house, sharing with Libby Preston, since she could not be with Michael until they were wed. If they were wed.
What if father says no? Would she ever see Michael again? The thought chilled her, and she hurried from Duke's stable—straight into Michael's arms.
Hands circling her waist, he leaned down to kiss her, but she put up a hand to stop him.
"If father forbids us to marry," she said, the words tumbling out, one on top of another, "will I ever see you again?"
Michael paused, and drew back a little. His face grew serious. "It pains me to say this, but… I dinna know how we could. 'Twould not be right."
Inside her chest, Alex's heart twisted. "But…"
"If we canna be wed, then I daresay your father will find you another. You will be someone else's bride." He traced the outline of her lips with a forefinger. "And I will be a broken man."
She shook her head defiantly, even as his touch sent a delicious shiver down her spine. "I will not marry, save to you. But you—you should find another, if we cannot…" A tear trickled down her cheek. "Mayhap that Mary Fleming who attends the queen. I believe she thinks well of you."
A Love Beyond: A Scottish Historical Romance (The Reivers Book 2) Page 2