The Captive Queen of Scots - Plaidy Jean - Страница 59
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THE EARL WAS ASKING for admittance to the Queen’s apartments.
“I bring Your Majesty good news,” he said. “I have sent to Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, for articles which will give you some comfort. May I have them brought up?”
“This is good news, my lord,” Mary replied. “Pray do not hesitate to bring them up.”
The Earl turned and signed to the servants to carry in the packages.
“They come from the royal wardrobe of the Tower of London, I believe, Your Majesty; and if they are what I asked for, I am sure they will please you.”
Mary called her women to her as the packages were carried in, and they helped unroll them.
There were several pieces of tapestry hangings lined with canvas.
Mary clapped her hands. “I cannot wait to hang them,” she cried. “They will keep out the drafts a little.”
Seton spread them out and saw that they were not only useful but decorative, portraying as they did the history of Hercules. Next there were four feather beds with bolsters.
“They make me warmer even to look at them!” said Mary.
This was by no means all. There was more pieces of tapestry—one set depicting the story of the Passion; there were cushions, stools and Turkey carpets. There were even hooks and crochets with which to hang the tapestry.
Mary turned to the Earl, her face radiant. “How can I thank you?” she asked.
He smiled. “Your Majesty, it grieved me that you should come to Tutbury which as you know is too ill furnished to receive you. When I knew that you were to be here, I asked that these objects might be procured for you. I am only sorry that they have been so long in coming. The bad state of the road is the cause.”
“I shall certainly sleep more comfortably now,” she told him, “and my thanks are due to you.”
Everyone in the room was now looking toward the door which had been left open. The Countess stood there.
Mary said: “My dear Countess, I am thanking your husband. I must thank you also, I know. These things are going to make a great deal of difference to my comfort.”
The Countess sailed into the room. Eleanor, watching her, thought: She did not know. He did it without asking her.
She dared not look at the Earl; she felt there would be fear in his face, and she did not want to see it. It was brave of him, she thought, to do it without telling her. Anyone must be brave who stands against her.
“I am delighted that Your Majesty is pleased,” said the Countess, her sharp eyes taking in the tapestry, the beds, the rugs and all the furniture.
“Such a difference!” sighed Mary. “I really do not think I could have endured the cold without something to keep out the drafts.”
“I trust the servants are doing all you require of them?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Then the Earl and I will beg your leave to retire.”
“But of course.”
The Countess looked at the Earl, and her eyes were expressionless.
She curtsied and the Earl made his bow.
As they went out together Eleanor wanted to whisper: You should not be afraid of her. You are the Earl. You should tell her so.
When they reached her apartments Bess turned to her husband; now she was smiling because she prided herself on always being in complete control of her feelings.
“So you sent to the Queen for those fripperies?” she asked.
“I thought they were necessary for our guest’s comfort.”
“I dare swear that if Her Majesty had thought them necessary she would have sent them without being asked.”
“She does not know how comfortless Tutbury can be.”
There was a brief silence while Shrewsbury thought of his first wife, Gertrude, eldest daughter of the Earl of Rutland. What a gentle person she had been! He was beginning to remember her with increasing regret.
“I hope she does not think you are going the way of Knollys and Scrope.”
“Because I ask for a carpet, a bed and some hangings to keep out the drafts?”
Bess gave a sudden harsh laugh. “Our Queen knows Mary’s reputation,” she said. “It is rumored that she bewitches all men who set eyes on her. Is this the beginning of bewitchment?”
“Nonsense,” retorted the Earl. “The poor woman is ill. Her Majesty would not be very pleased with us if it were said she died through neglect.”
Bess nodded her head slowly. “So, without consulting me, you sent for comforts for her.” Again she gave that hard laugh. She slipped her arm through his and she was smiling. “George,” she went on, “I think, in view of the disgrace of Knollys and Scrope, we should be careful. Of course if she is in danger of dying of neglect, I shall see that she does not do so. Perhaps it would be better if such matters were left to me. No one could accuse me of being bewitched by the charm of the Queen of Scots, I fancy!”
Shrewsbury was beginning to hate that cold laughter of hers. What she was saying was: Next time leave it to me to make arrangements. I am the one who makes decisions here.
He was pleased that he had managed to procure the comforts before she had had a chance to interfere. Then, as he looked into her domineering, handsome face, he thought of Eleanor Britton; which seemed unaccountable. It’s the contrast, he told himself. One so arrogant; the other one so meek. But of course Eleanor Britton would be meek. Was she not a servant?
TWO PLEASANT OCCURRENCES quickly followed the arrival of the comforts from the Tower of London.
Lady Livingstone, who had been so ill on the journey, had recovered and came on to Tutbury. Mary who had thought it possible that she might never see this dear friend again was overcome with joy.
Lady Livingstone however was shocked by the Queen’s appearance.
“I have recovered more quickly than Your Majesty did!” she said aghast.
“Ah,” laughed Mary. “But you have not been at Tutbury.” She was serious suddenly. “You should not stay here. It is a foul place. The stench at times is unbearable. Why do you not return to Scotland? I still have friends there, and you and your husband could return to your estates and live in comfort.”
“And leave you!”
“My dearest friend, I do not know how long I shall be here. Sometimes I think it will be for years.”
“Then if we must remain prisoners for years, so be it.”
Mary embraced her friend. “It seems meet and proper,” she said, “that I should have a Livingstone with me. In my youth it was your sister-in-law, Mary. She would be with me still, as Seton is, if she had not married. But if at any time this becomes too much for you, you must not hesitate to return to Scotland.”
“One day we shall go together,” was the answer.
IT WAS SHORTLY AFTERWARD when a young man was admitted to her apartments. In the first seconds she did not recognize him. Then she cried out in great joy. “Willie!”
Willie Douglas bowed and, as the light fell on his face, she saw how thin he was.
“Oh Willie, Willie!” She took him into her arms and held him tightly against her. “This is such joy to me.”
“And to me, Your Majesty.”
“You have suffered since I last saw you, Willie.”
“Oh ay.”
Releasing him she laid her hands on his shoulders and looked searchingly into his face.
“But you are back now, and I thank God.” She drew him to one of the stools which had been sent from the Tower of London and bade him sit.
There he told her that he had traveled jauntily to London, had received his passport and had been ready to make his way to the coast and France. But as he walked through an alley in the City of London, where he had his temporary lodging, he had been set upon.
“They came upon me from behind, Your Majesty, and I never saw their faces. There I was walking along that alley where the houses seemed to meet at the top, when I was attacked. I woke up in a dark cellar, trussed up and with my head bleeding. I’d lost all my papers. I knew I’d been robbed then. I lay there for what seemed days and nights, but I had no means of telling. But at last they came for me . . . rough men I’d never seen before. They put me in chains and set me on a mule, and I knew we were coming north. I thought I was being brought back to you, but I soon learned that was a mistake. I was taken into a place like a castle and put in a cell there. There were bars at the window, and now and then a crust of bread and pitcher of water were thrust in at me. Other than that the only companions I had were the rats and beetles.”
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