Read The Gowrie Conspiracy Online
Authors: Alanna Knight
Martin Hailes’ eyebrows raised somewhat at this direct question. ‘Edinburgh was buzzing with rumours which leaked out at the time.’
‘Indeed!’
‘It was said a document had been signed by two of the women who attended the queen.’
‘And what were the contents of this document?’
Martin sighed. ‘It was said that the queen had had a long and terrible labour. Never strong, she was at the point of death and in her agony would have only Margaret Agnew attend her. She sent her two ladies of the Bedchamber, Lady Reres and the Countess of Atholl, Marie Fleming’s sister, out of the bedchamber and cried out for Janet Beaton –’
Tam observed the look of distaste on the lawyer’s face at the mention of that name as he went on, ‘The queen had
implicit trust in Lady Beaton and, certain that both she and her child would die, believed only that the Wizard lady of Branxton – as Beaton was known and feared – had power to save them.’
Martin hesitated before proceeding cautiously, ‘One can imagine the panic outside that bedchamber. The sight of Lady Reres and the Countess emerging in floods of tears convinced everyone that the queen was dead, the child stillborn. Grim looks were exchanged among the ministers. As orders were hurriedly sent for the mourning bell at St Giles to be prepared to tell the people of Edinburgh the dread news, suddenly the firmly closed door from which they were banned admission was thrown open.
‘Lady Beaton appeared smiling. “Her Grace lives and has beenn delivered of a fine prince.”
‘Panic turned to rejoicing. Ministers rushed forward but Lady Beaton refused any admission. She held the door firmly against those whose right it was to view the newborn prince.
‘“No one,” she said to lords and statesmen, to all who
waited
in the outer chamber. “Her Grace is weak, she has suffered deeply. Now she sleeps. Let none attend her before her royal husband, King Henry. By her orders His Grace must be the first to see his son.”
‘There was no argument especially as Lady Beaton stood high in the queen’s regard. And many feared her magic
powers
. If she had used these powers to restore the queen, then there would be sighs of relief and grateful thanks given to Almighty God.
‘For the whole future of Scotland lay on a knife edge that day. Should the queen die, her realm was in direst peril from the might of Lord Darnley’s family, the Lennoxes, who were biding their time for the appropriate moment to proclaim Henry king of Scotland.’
Martin paused. ‘The queen was delivered at nine o’ the clock in the morning. It was not until two in the afternoon
that she presented Prince James to his father, saying “God has given us a son” and swearing before the assembled ministers that Henry Darnley and none other was his father.’
Martin stopped speaking and Tam looked at him. ‘Was that truly as it happened, sir? As you have told me – is that your opinion?’
The lawyer shrugged. ‘The only other possibility is that the queen was already dead when her two ladies-in-waiting left the bedchamber.’
‘And the child?’
Martin nodded avoiding his eyes.
‘If that was so then there must have been a substitute. Is that what you think?’ Tam insisted.
‘What I thought and continue to think, Master Eildor, is that five hours is a very long time to elapse between the birth and the infant’s presentation to his father. Many things can be made to happen in five hours, hours vital, remember, for Queen Mary’s kingdom.’
‘But hardly enough time to produce a newborn child,’ said Tam ‘And to get it into the queen’s chamber unobserved.’
‘Servants were admitted to the outer chamber, there were quantities of linen, basins carried in and out, watched over by Agnew and Beaton. As for the newborn child, it so happened, as fate would have it, that there was one, not very far away.’
At Tam’s startled exclamation, Martin paused. ‘Indeed. The Countess of Mar had come from Stirling to be in attendance at the queen’s lying-in. She was not in evidence, however, since a few days earlier she was delivered of a son.’
A further exclamation of surprise from Tam. Martin gave a triumphant nod. ‘And what we must observe particularly, Master Eildor, is that two days – two days, mark it well – after the birth of Prince James, the Countess was mourning her infant son’s loss, for he had been born into the world
incomplete
, ahead of his due arrival.’
Tam looked at him. ‘So you think that the Countess’s newborn son was substituted for the queen’s stillborn prince.’
And Tam thought how easy it would have been this
transporting
of infant bodies, dead or alive. It would prevent no serious problems to midwives and servants scurrying back and forth with their baskets of soiled linen. Such domestic matters could be carried out under the averted eyes of the noble lords awaiting an audience in the outer chambers.
‘But what became of the tiny corpse of that stillborn prince? The queen was very devout and the Roman Catholic Church are very particular about the immediate baptism of infants.’
Martin sighed. ‘I try not to think about it, Master Eildor. But the rumour is perhaps more agreeable to swallow than the suggestion that James was the son of a baseborn servant, like Riccio.’
‘You are not convinced.’
Martin shook his head and said wryly, ‘I cannot imagine that lovely young woman who was so briefly our gracious queen taking an ugly little Italian as her lover. But regarding the other matter I have learned to respect rumour. There is always a thread of truth running through it somewhere. And in this case there is a shred of evidence.’
‘Evidence?’ said Tam
‘Indeed. Whereas King James bears little resemblance to his mother or father, a strikingly handsome couple both over six feet tall –’
And Tam had a sudden vision of the small, slender,
wizened
young man who was the king, his dark scowling visage, heavy-lidded eyes, as Martin continued, ‘However, the king bears a remarkable likeness to the Erskine family of Mar who brought him up at Stirling Castle. Whilst this could be accounted for by the fact that, as most of the Scottish nobility, they are remote cousins, it would also explain his devotion to his foster-mother and his insistence that she also fosters his own royal children.’
Tam smiled. ‘Much to the chagrin of Queen Anne, so Mistress Scott informs me.’
‘And the Countess’s devotion to His Grace is possessive and demanding as any maternal love.’
‘If these conjectures are true, sir, if the two women who were present when the late queen gave birth signed a
document
– lost, hidden or stolen, but in existence somewhere – then that is a very good reason why the king must recover and destroy it.’
‘It is rumoured to be with the missing Casket Letters.’
‘The letters that were used to condemn the king’s mother?’
‘Indeed. They were said to contain evidence of her plot to murder Lord Darnley.’ Delicately he forbore to add that William’s father, the Earl of Bothwell, was said to be her accomplice and added, ‘The letters were forgeries mostly, but recovery of that ill-fated casket and its contents must haunt His Grace’s dreams.’
Tam thought for a moment. ‘Do you think the queen was innocent of deception? Do you think she knew and approved the substitution of the Mar child for her stillborn infant?’
‘I think not. But even if she did, she is not to be condemned. She would have regarded it as a necessary action for the sake of the future of Scotland. She was never in any doubt of the dire consequences of Henry Darnley inheriting the throne.’ Martin shook his head once more. ‘I prefer to think in this too she was innocent of any deception. That weak and near death, she was not aware of what was going on around her.’
Pausing he looked at Tam. ‘But the king knows. And the most revealing factor is his failure to protest, to fight for the stay of his mother’s execution. From all accounts, he was indecently eager to get it over with so that when his
godmother
Queen Elizabeth dies, he will be king of Scotland and England. His one burning ambition, above all things and all people, for all of his life. and God help any who stood – or still stand – in his way.’
And Tam was considering how that burning ambition could be upset by such a document. Here indeed was the link between two women, Tansy Scott and Margaret Agnew, and
their granddams, the two women intimately concerned with the substitution of an impostor prince.
Martin’s solemn voice had echoes in a change in the
weather
. Above their heads was the distant rumble of thunder. He looked up at the sky.
‘So ends our summer.’
‘It was too good to be true, alas. Day after day, night after night.’
‘And too hot for me.’
There were still questions Tam wished to ask, but at that moment Tansy and Will hurried down the path towards them.
‘We have been searching for you,’ said Tansy anxiously.
She glanced at Will who put an arm about her shoulders and said, ‘Tansy has told me everything. We must leave Falkland immediately,’ he added firmly. ‘There is no time to lose. We are in the very midst of danger and death.’
An as if to stress their peril, the first raindrops, a shower of black coins, splashed down with unnatural violence on the path before them.
Indoors again, watching the rain streaming down the
windows
, Martin, breathless from the speed at which they had rushed for shelter, sat down heavily. Overwhelmed suddenly by what he had imagined as a pleasant interlude at Falkland Palace to his family visit at Perth, he now found himself part of a tense drama of impending flight.
Sitting back in his chair and accepting the tankard of ale William thrust into his hand, he drank gratefully, his
bewildered
glance moving from one to the other.
Will turned to Tam and there was no mistaking the urgency in his voice. ‘We wish you to accompany us, Master Eildor. From what Tansy has told me of the events of last night, we should go now. And quickly.’
Tansy said quietly, ‘My thanks for including Tam, Will.’
Will bowed to Tam. ‘That is my pleasure, sir.’
‘I will ask leave of the queen,’ said Tansy. ‘She already knows that I am to go to Tullibardine for the Murray
wedding
, very soon, on the 5th of August.’
Tam and Martin did not miss William’s grimace of
revulsion
, as she continued, ‘Her Grace has given me permission to attend. However, since the Masque is over, my services as broiderer are no longer in urgent demand. And I have
another
reason. My foster brother Alexander, who is her good friend, is requesting that I might be allowed time to spend at Gowrie House.’
‘Indeed, I thought you were to be at Kirktillo with me,’ said Will sounding disappointed and looking a trifle cast down by this news.
‘So I would wish, my dear. But John and William, who recently returned from Italy, are at present at Trochrie and intend to reopen their town house in Perth.’ Smiling at
Martin, she said, ‘It would perfectly fit your desire for good clean air, sir. It stands in the Inch, in a lovely situation
commanding
a splendid view of the river and the surrounding countryside. It is also better suited to my brothers; both are still unmarried, and in need of the society of other young people after their long absence.’
Will caught a whiff of matchmaking and suppressed a smile as Tansy went on, ‘Gowrie House has long been sorely neglected and virtually unoccupied since their mother spends most of her time in East Lothian at Dirleton Castle. So Alexander decided that my skills with tapestries and draperies would be of great assistance in their refurbishing plans.’
‘You believe that Her Grace will agree to your longer absence?’ said Will.
Tansy shrugged. ‘I do not think she will not raise any objections – Alexander is a particular friend of her – all will be well as long as I promise to return in good time for the christening robes for the babe due in November.’
She turned to Tam and said eagerly, ‘I imagine there will be a place for you at Gowrie House. We will certainly be short of a steward.’
And spreading her hands in a triumphant gesture. ‘Have I not done well? And if that does not please her, then I will think of some other plausible excuse.’
‘You will need one,’ said Tam drily. Distrusting the queen’s ability to keep him in her household against the king’s
wishes
, he added ‘Remember that I am commanded to take up
residence
as cupbearer in the royal apartments in a few days’ time.’
Tansy groaned. ‘I had forgotten – ’
‘I doubt whether His Grace has let it conveniently slip his mind,’ said Tam.
Tansy bit her lip, stood up and said firmly. ‘Then there is no time to lose. I will prepare the servants. Kirktillo first. It is not far, we will travel as light as possible.’
‘Cousin Hailes will require a carriage especially for the remainder of his journey,’ said Will and Martin gave him a grateful look. He did not fancy racing on horseback across the miles from Falkland to Methlour on the far side of Perth.
‘I will arrange that. But first of all, I must seek an audience with Her Grace,’ said Tansy.
The queen listened to her request to leave Falkland a week before the Tullibardine wedding.
‘We fear it will not be an occasion to afford you much joy, Mistress Scott,’ she said sympathetically. And fully aware that Tansy’s long-time lover William Hepburn of Kirktillo was the bastard son of Queen Mary’s notorious third husband, she added,
‘We have not forgotten that it will be an ordeal for you to put in an appearance before your husband’s family.’
Tansy gave her a weary smile. ‘Your Grace is very
understanding
and I am grateful. The charade will be difficult, to appear to all the world that we are amiably disposed to one another.’
The queen leaned across and patted Tansy’s hand. ‘Then you, my dear, must appear lovelier than ever. You have our permission to take whatever gowns and jewellery from the royal wardrobe that will help you achieve this. We command you to be radiantly beautiful,’ she added gently.
Tansy, though unstinting in her gratitude, decided that caution was needed in this matter. Overdressed at what was a mere country wedding would not do her cause any good. Walt would sneer and seek sympathy that his former wife looked like a royal whore. Even worse, and hardly bearable to think about, was that he might be so taken by her appearance that he wished to take full advantage of this false portrayal of connubial bliss. Overindulgence in food and wine in his
mistress
’s absence and Walt might well assert his conjugal rights over Tansy.
Her reluctance was not lost on the queen who smiled sadly. ‘Wives are subject to the worst of the marriage settlement,
including the marital bed. It is difficult for us to always be ready to love, honour and obey.’
Her words were not lost and left Tansy to wonder if Her Grace’s use of the royal “we” was significant or a mere
politeness
indicating the predicament of womankind in general.
Tansy then brought up the subject of Gowrie House.
‘We are aware of this request from Alexander, his wish that you might be released from your duties with us to use your sewing skills.’ As she spoke, the queen’s tender smile told Tansy that Alexander ranked high in her affections and that she was pleased to grant him this favour he asked.
Anne did not tell anyone that she had been filled with such yearning to see the boy again she had kissed his letter and put it carefully in her locked jewel casket.
Asked when she intended to leave Falkland, Tansy said, ‘Lady Gowrie has been ill with a fever at Dirleton. I imagine she will be returning to Gowrie House as soon as she is able to travel. I should like to see her again for a while before returning to Your Grace,’ she added.
‘You have my permission to do so. Perhaps while you are taking care of Lady Gowrie, Beatrix might return to our household. Tell her it is my wish that she does so. You are free to leave but you must promise to return to us in good time before – ’
Pausing she touched her stomach delicately. ‘In good time to attend to your duties concerning the robes for the
christening
. We trust that our lying-in will be here in Falkland for which we have a special regard. It was our morning gift from His Grace when we were wed,’ she added sadly.
Her sentimental sigh caused Tansy to wonder if Queen Anne, as a fifteen-year-old bride, had once enjoyed great hopes of happiness and romantic love from an ardent lover only to be bitterly disillusioned when her bridegroom’s true nature was revealed to her.
Kissing the royal hand and with a final promise to return in good time, Tansy curtseyed, feeling somewhat like a fairytale
character who, failing to keep her word, might be
transformed
into a disagreeable toad at the stroke of midnight.
As she was leaving, Tansy found her way barred by the king and his retinue. On his royal way to the bear-baiting, he was breaking his journey at the queen’s apartments. Not merely to pay her a pleasant afternoon but to discuss the urgent matter of an itemised account for the Masque.
A stickler for facts and figures, for pennies and silver in the royal purse, His Grace preferred to do his own additions and subtractions concerning small items of change, rather than trust such matters to the lofty discretion of the Keeper of the Royal Treasury.
Tansy curtseyed low and received a kingly scowl.
Closeted with his wife, James sniffed and said, ‘Mistress Scott spends a deal of her time with you, Annie. What would she be wanting?’ he demanded and, suspicious of anything concerning Tansy Scott, ‘We doubt if it occurred to ye to seize the opportunity of an accounting for yer Masque’s costumes.’
The queen shook her head. ‘We had other more important matters in hand, sire.’
James gave her a furious look. ‘Naething is of more import than Siller, Annie. Naething.’ And dragging at his beard, ‘We would like her to tak a wee keek at yon gowns our
godmother
Elizabeth has sent us. That wee present, ye ken of.’
And pausing to shrug irritably, ‘We dinna care to be regarded as a charity by our cousin of England and we would hazard a wee guess they they are gey auld and full o’ moths and lice.’ With a vigorous nod, slobbering a little, he went on eagerly, ‘But her gowns are well-kenned to be thick with
precious
gems, wi’ pearls and rubies and sichlike. Aye, and worth a wee bit o’siller.’
Anne laughed. ‘Not these, sire. We are sorry to disappoint you but you are mistaken. Your royal godmother holds a tight purse and her charity does not extend to precious gems.’ She gave him a mocking glance. ‘We thought you were aware that
Her Majesty of England shares your own interest in the
acquisition
of wealth.’
James scowled. ‘We dinna get yer drift, Annie. What o’ the jewelled gowns?’
Annie’s glance mocked his anxiety. ‘We observed that all the gems had been carefully – and indeed, some not so
carefully
– removed before they left your godmother’s royal palace. Most will have to be repaired – ’
‘Worthless, eh?’ James interrupted.
‘Not at all. Some of the materials, the fur trimmings are quite exquisite.’
‘You say so? Then get Mistress Scott straightway on to it then. See what she can save for our royal wardrobe.’
‘We cannot do that, sire. We have given Mistress Scott leave to visit Perth forthwith.’
‘Is that so? Aye, that is – ’ James stopped confused. In the nick of time, cut short his grin, for he had been about to say, ‘good news.’
Was he to be released at last from the sight of the hated Gowrie brat – and by peaceful means? Without scheme or blame, or his hands metaphorically stained with her blood? One less sin for the Almighty to forgive.
Anne watched him narrowly, cat-and-mouse awareness of his reactions to anything concerning Tansy Scott. She beamed upon him. With yet another blow to strike, she sat back
prepared
to enjoy to the full his discomfort at its impact.
‘We have also given Mistress Scott our permission to go to the assistance of her foster-brother – ’ A deliberate pause ‘Alexander Ruthven, whom you ken of,’ she added coldly, ‘in the restoration of tapestries at Gowrie House.’
James shuffled uncomfortably, wincing at the memory of the boy who had spurned him for his queen.
Anne was smiling. She was not finished yet. ‘We have given our permission for Master Eildor to accompany her. It seems that Gowrie House is in urgent need of a steward – ’
James had shot out of his chair and was staring down at
her. ‘You – have – done – what!’
Anne repeated the sentence calmly and slowly, as if he were deaf, relishing the joy of the moment ignoring his anger, his frustration.
‘Master Eildor will do very well. Do you not agree that it is a very suitable appointment for one of his station in life. They have asked for Master Eildor,’ she added carelessly. The lie was delicious.
James was shaking with an almost uncontrollable fury. Anne did not at first recognise the danger she was in. That James wanted, more than anything else in the world, at that moment to raise his hand to his royal spouse Anne of Denmark. To strike her very hard across her gently mocking face, to remove forever that self-satisfied smile.
Tam Eildor to be removed from his presence. And, adding insult to injury to be under the roof and influence of his arch enemies, the hated Ruthvens and in particular, the boy who had mocked him.
Forgetting what he had come for, the urgency of those accounts, he turned on his heel and, since he did not trust himself to speak, he stormed out to join his courtiers who were patiently waiting to accompany him to the bear-baiting.
As he applauded and took wagers on the efforts of the brave but doomed series of dogs thrown into the pit to
challenge
the bear, roaring, chained and bleeding, scarred from its many wounds, James wished he could so readily dispose of Annie, the Earl of Gowrie and his brother.
How he would relish a savage and merciless delight in watching them torn apart and bleeding into oblivion.
*****
Tam and Will had been waiting for Tansy on one of the stone seats in the garden. When she emerged and joined them, to discussing the result of her interview with the queen, the trio narrowly missed an encounter with King James. Fortunately he was not heading in their direction and as he possessed a
very loud voice they were able to make their escape and take refuge by the dovecot. But here they were witnesses to a
violent
scene.
A middle-aged man was being forcibly ejected by the kitchen staircase.
Powerfully built, he was putting up a strong resistance to the palace guards, shouting and cursing those who struck him with the backs of their swords.
Looking round he saw Tansy, Tam and Will who were too far away to go to his assistance even if they had felt free and able to tackle his captors. He shouted in their direction:
‘They will not let me see her. They tell me nothing. She is a prisoner in there,’ and, indicating the kitchen, ‘One of their whores.’
A guard kicked him, another struck him across the face. His mouth bleeding, they dragged him to his feet and, still protesting, marched him towards the gatehouse.