Chapter 43
ONE EARLY MORNING, LESS THAN a week later, Beatrix bursts into the small sitting room, her face flushed and full of news. Elspet looks up from Venus and Adonis – a copy from the Holyrood library. She’s been keeping up her reading practice in any snatched, quiet moments of the day.
‘Bothwell is banished once more,’ Beatrix whispers dramatically despite Elspet and Margaret being the only other people in the room.
Elspet puts the book down in her lap and is surprised by the stab of disappointment she feels. ‘Why? What happened?’
‘It was only a matter of time,’ Beatrix says. ‘His plotting has been discovered. He’s been put to the horn – the King has ordered the proclamation to be posted on the cross.’
‘How do you know?’ Margaret demands.
‘Mary told me all about it. She’s furious.’ Beatrix pulls over a chair and sits next to them near a blazing fire in the hearth. ‘She says Atholl is considering open rebellion against the King.’
Margaret narrows her eyes. ‘What happened to him bending like willow?’
‘Well, with the accusation of witchcraft before, people couldn’t show open support for Bothwell,’ Beatrix continues to whisper, ‘but the King has shown real weakness – he can’t make up his mind about anything.
He shows no decisive action in the matter of the Catholic Earls or anybody who rebels against him.
Atholl thinks the time to move is coming. ’
Margaret rolls her eyes. ‘This is all we need. A healthy heir on the way should stop all this nonsense. We want Barclay to believe the Earls are plotting; we don’t want them to actually move against the King.
Perhaps we could suggest some show of confidence from the Queen and Schoner that the child is well. ’
Elspet stifles a sigh. She’ll never understand the politics and manoeuvring at this court – and she doesn’t want to. A peedie bairn, not even born yet, is a pawn in the feuds between rich men. She feels a desperate pang to be back in her homeland, away from all this.
‘Let’s take the Queen for a walk in the garden this morning,’ Beatrix says. ‘We have much to discuss.’
The Queen agrees with Margaret. ‘A public statement on the health of the child, even unborn, may stop the Earls making trouble – as well as reminding the King of my worth to him. That will do no harm. I’ve asked him to grant me some official powers in Orkney so I can protect Mistress Balfour, and this won’t do any harm on that score either – my support in this matter should encourage him to be generous. ’
‘Schoner should make a declaration of his confidence that a healthy son will be born soon,’ Margaret says.
‘How can he pretend to know the child will be a son?’ Elspet asks.
The Queen shrugs. ‘It’s what the King wants to hear – it’s what everyone must pretend to assume until they know otherwise. I shall grant Schoner a handsome title and salary. He will love to be my Master Medicinar.’
Elspet nods. ‘It’ll give him the status he craves.’
‘And what of Alexander Barclay?’ the Queen asks. ‘Have you thought of a message he can be sent to deliver?’
‘We have,’ Margaret says. ‘He will go to Sutherland. It’s far enough away that we can be confident he’ll miss the birth altogether.’
‘And the King will not know he has left?’ the Queen asks.
‘Who will tell him?’ Elspet says. ‘Primrose won’t know anything about who’s there and who isn’t. The only remaining obstacle is . . .’
‘Martin Schoner,’ Margaret grumbles. ‘This scheme now rests on us coming up with a plan to deal with that man.’
Elspet’s mind races – how can they solve the problem of the observant, stubborn physician?
She barely has a chance to consider the question before the figures of King James and the Earl of Mar approach through the manicured hedges.
The King’s limp is worse, Elspet notices.
Is that due to the cooler weather or the wine?
He holds Mar’s arm to steady himself every few paces.
‘What are you doing out here in the cold?’ King James says. ‘Shouldn’t you be inside resting? I must talk to Schoner about this – I will insist he keep tighter control over your activities. We can’t take any risks.’
‘Good morning,’ Queen Anna says to her husband, ignoring his complaints.
He looks at her with suspicion. These are the first civilised words she’s spoken to him for months.
‘Don’t be harsh on Schoner,’ she continues. ‘I came outside without his knowledge. And if you can’t control me, I don’t see how you can expect a mere physician to.’
She means to tease the King, but he looks at his wife with a deep frown.
Seeing his disapproval, the Queen smiles broadly.
‘I’m glad you came to find me. I have had an idea about how we can persuade these vexatious Earls to learn their place.
And then we can discuss your signing over the temporalities of the bishopric in Orkney to me. What a romantic gesture that would be.’
King James looks up, his face eager, as his wife takes his arm.