Royal Road to Fotheringhay - Plaidy Jean. Страница 92

People listened behind bolted doors; no one ventured forth, though there was scarcely a man or woman in Edinburgh who did not believe Bothwell to be the Kings murderer.

Up and down the streets he galloped, pausing now and then to call to his accusers to come out and fight with him. None came. And at length he returned to Holyroodhouse to tell the Queen that events were moving in their favor.

MARY’S LIFE was divided between periods of delirious joy and dreadful remorse. She was more passionately in love with him than ever. He was without hypocrisy, whatever other faults he might have. He would never pretend. He enjoyed their relationship; her passion was as fiercely demanding as his; he found great pleasure in their union, but he was less sentimental than she. She differed from other women in one respect as far as he was concerned; she had a crown to offer him. He would not have been the man he was if he could have hidden this fact. Mary knew it and it caused her many bitter tears.

Often after he had left her she would read through some of the sonnets she had written for him. There was one which described her feelings without reserve.

Pour luy aussi j’ay jette mainte larme,

Premier qu’il fust de ce corps possesseur,

Duquel alors il n’avoit pas le c?ur….

She read it through again and again, thinking of the bitter tears she had shed for him. She read that line which was as true now as it had been when she had written it.

“Brief de vous seul je cherche alliance.”

Within a few days he decided he must go to see his wife.

“I must persuade her to the divorce,” he said.

“I hate your going to her!” she cried.

He laughed aloud. “I go to ask her to release me. What cause for jealousy is there in that?”

The only comfort she could find was in pouring out her thoughts in verses—verses which he would read and smile over before he locked them into his casket, there to lie forgotten.

But he did not go to see Jean then. He discovered that it would be unwise to leave Mary—not for love of her but because he feared that his enemies might capture her and keep her their prisoner. He talked instead to Jean’s brother, Huntley. Huntley, aware that Bothwell was the strongest power in the land, decided that it would be worth while setting aside a sister in order to share in that power.

The divorce must be speedy. Bothwell told Huntley that it could be brought about on the grounds of consanguinity as he and Jean were distantly connected.

It was impossible to silence the rumors. The Queen’s husband dead. Bothwell seeking to divorce his wife. The inference was obvious.

Great events were about to burst on Scotland. Danger lay ahead. This was certain, for the Earl of Moray had left Scotland for France. He wanted no part in what was about to take place; he only wanted to partake of any good which might come within his reach through the ruin of the Queen, which more than ever seemed to him inevitable.

BOTHWELL was triumphant. He had been the chief instigator of Darn-ley’s murder and had gone unpunished. His men swaggered through the streets clanging their bucklers and broadswords. They commanded the fortress. All the nobles were invited—or ordered—to take supper with Lord Bothwell at the Ainslie Tavern.

At the closing of the recent parliament he had carried the Queen’s crown and scepter for her, back to the palace. Now there was not a man among them who dared refuse his invitation, while there was not one who was completely easy in his mind.

The revelers were feasting and making merry in the tavern when they were suddenly aware that the inn was surrounded by Bothwell’s men who stood on guard at the doors.

Bothwell called to his guests: “My very good lords, I thank you for your company, and now that we are all together and you know me for your friend, I would know you for mine. I have a bond here and I shall ask you, one and all, to sign it.”

Only the Earl of Eglinton, who was sitting near a window which was unguarded, managed to slip away unnoticed. The others were caught, intensely aware of the armed men surrounding the inn.

Morton cried: “What is this bond, friend Bothwell?”

“I will read it to you.” Bothwell stood on a table and taking the scroll in his hand read aloud:

James, Earl of Bothwell, being calumniated by malicious reports and divers placards as art and part in the heinous murder of the King, has submitted to an assize, and been found innocent of the same by certain noblemen his peers and others barons of good reputation. We, the undersigned, oblige ourselves upon our faith and honor and truth of our bodies, will answer to God, that in case hereafter any manner of person shall happen to insist farther on the slander and calumniation of the said heinous murder we and our kin, friends and assisters, shall take true and plain part with him to the defense and maintenance of his quarrel with our bodies, heritage and goods. And as Her Majesty is now destitute of husband, in which solitary state the Commonweal cannot permit Her Highness to continue, if it should please her so far to humble herself by taking one of her own born subjects and marry the said Earl, we will maintain and fortify him against all who would hinder and disturb the said marriage. Under our hands and seals at Edinburgh this day of April the 19th, in the year 1567.

The lords were dumbfounded.

They had expected to be asked to stand beside him in the event of his accusers’ rising against him, but this proposed marriage with the Queen was a feat of daring which they had not expected, even from Bothwell.

They hesitated. They were aware of the men-at-arms outside. The ferocity of Bothwell’s men was well known. And here they were, caught in a trap, befuddled with wine, heavy with feasting.

Morton stepped forward and said: “It is true that Lord Bothwell was acquitted and therefore every man should stand beside him should he be attacked on this matter of the King’s death. I will give my signature to the bond. It is true that Her Majesty is left a widow and that for the good of this country she should marry. If Her Majesty should humble herself and take one of her born subjects and that should be the Earl we see before us, then I say that will be for Scotland’s good and I hereby sign the bond.”

Bothwell was taken aback. He had not expected such ready support from Morton.

One by one the lords came up to sign the bond. They knew they must do it or die. Bothwell would have no mercy.

While they were uneasy, Bothwell was triumphant. But there was one who was far from displeased by what he had witnessed in the tavern; he was sly Morton.

By God! he swore to himself, little do these oafs know when they reluctantly sign this bond that they are doing just what they would wish to do; they are signing Bothwell’s death warrant. And he, poor fool, is too drunk with ambition to know it. Should he marry the Queen they are both doomed. Such a marriage would expose them to the world as Darnley’s murderers. The most foolish step they could take at this point is to marry.

He decided he would send word at once to Moray. It would not be long before James Stuart would return to Scotland to take the Regency.

THREE WAS at least one other who agreed with Morton. This was Elizabeth of England. She herself had been in a similar position seven years ago when her lovers wife had been found mysteriously dead at the bottom of a staircase, and Elizabeth with her lover Robert Dudley had appeared to be guilty of the murder. Mary had a shining example of royal behavior in such a delicate situation. To marry Bothwell now would be to destroy herself, as to have married Dudley at the time of Amy Robsart’s death would have destroyed Elizabeth.