Chapter 42
BARCLAY IS WEARING A PADDED doublet of embroidered brocade which emphasises his round stature. He looks up and smiles broadly as the ladies approach the tennis court.
‘What inappropriate clothing he wears to play,’ Margaret says under her breath.
His opponent turns to see who he’s smiling at and Elspet recognises the Earl of Mar, the King’s most loyal companion.
‘We’re sorry to interrupt,’ Margaret says. ‘Do go on.’
‘Tennis is so enjoyable to watch,’ Beatrix says enthusiastically.
‘No, no,’ Mar says. He’s sweating profusely despite the coldness of the air. ‘Mister Barclay is on good form today. I think I’ve had enough – we were just finishing.’
‘I wonder then,’ Margaret turns to Barclay, ‘if we could talk to you about purchasing some gifts for the Queen.’
Barclay’s face lights up. Both men hand their racquets to the serving men at the court and Mar takes his leave. ‘The King will be wondering where I am.’
Margaret gives a forced smile. ‘Now, we’ll need plenty more of the seaweed. The Queen is enjoying that. And we thought perhaps some lavender water . . .’
After a few minutes of discussion about what gifts might suit the pregnant Queen well – and a promise to pay Barclay handsomely for them, the apothecary clears his throat and turns to Beatrix.
‘And do you . . .’ he begins, looking around.
‘Do you bring a message from your brother-in-law? I haven’t heard from him in over a week. ’
‘My brother-in-law?’ Beatrix says slowly.
‘If he should need any more messages delivering,’ Barclay says, ‘I should be most happy to oblige once more. For the right price, of course.’
There’s an awkward silence before Beatrix speaks. ‘I’ll pass that on.’
‘Beatrix is a close confidant of the Earl of Atholl,’ Margaret says to Barclay conspiratorially.
‘He has to be careful about who he’s seen speaking to directly in .
. . sensitive matters at the moment. I’m sure you understand.
But you’ve chosen an excellent messenger in his favourite sister-in-law.
It’s easier for us women sometimes – no one suspects us of being up to anything. ’
Elspet looks at Margaret with admiration, and Beatrix nods furiously as she catches on.
‘Excellent,’ Barclay says. ‘Well, do let him know I’m at his service, as always. And I’ll go and check on my supplies of the Queen’s favourite seaweed.’
He bows and hurries off. Elspet feels the energy of discovery crackling between her, Margaret and Beatrix. When the apothecary is safely out of earshot, Beatrix exhales. ‘Well done, Margaret.’
‘I still don’t approve of any of this,’ Margaret says, ‘but that was too good an opportunity to pass up. Perhaps a task could be found for him – a message for delivery which requires him to be far from the city while the Queen gives birth.’
‘You’ve got the measure of him,’ Beatrix says. ‘That man would sell his own mother if the price was right.’
‘If he believes you to be working with the Earl of Atholl,’ Elspet asks, ‘is there a message we could send him to deliver?’
Beatrix nods. ‘My foolish brother-in-law is sending messages to a number of nobles, inciting rebellion against the King. We could send him from Stirling all the way to Sutherland of course – I’ve no doubt Jean would play along.’
‘And he could be convinced this must happen while the Queen is birthing the child?’ Elspet asks.
‘It’s the perfect time,’ Beatrix says. ‘The King will be preoccupied – he won’t be paying attention to anything else, for a few days at least. It’s entirely plausible the rebel Earls would take the opportunity that presents.’
‘But will the birth of an heir not discourage the Earls from joining a rebellion?’ Elspet asks.
Beatrix nods. ‘That’s true, but no one will doubt that Atholl continues his efforts to gather support. They know it would take more than a child to discourage him. We will need a large sum to persuade Barclay it’s worth his while to leave the Queen’s side.’
‘A large sum can be arranged,’ Margaret says. ‘That part, at least, is easy. I think . . .’ She stops, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘I think we are actually going to go through with this preposterous thing.’