"All that? But they are the Queen's jewels, not his."
"He says that the Queen, in her present state, can have no need for jewellery, nor interest in it."
"I say that he is a cold-hearted monster!"
John stirred uncomfortably beside her. "I do not like it, my own self. But he is no monster, however strange. He sees things differently from others. Perhaps all kings do. But—well, that is no business of ours. He is the King and we must do as he tells us."
"You must, perhaps—not I."
"You are his subject also, are you not?"
"What does he want of me, then?"
"He says that you must know where the Queen keeps her jewels. And are in and around her rooms every day. It should not be difficult for you to, to move them. Or some of them. A little at a time. Without it being noticed. To, to somewhere else. . ."
"Into the King's hands, you mean? Steal the Queen's jewels? I, her own Maid-in-Waiting!"
"Not steal. Abstract was the word he used! He is a great one for words, is James. It is to save them, so that the wrong folk do not steal them."
"I mislike this. If I do, what reward will I receive?" "The King says that some position at court will be found for you."
"He does? What position?"
"He did not say what. But something. He will show his gratitude. Do you know where the jewels are kept?"
"Oh, yes. Or some of them. It is no secret. They are in a dressing-room off the Queen's bedchamber. Along with her gowns. But to get them will mean to get past Danish Anna."
"She it is James distrusts most of all. She cannot always be on watch."
"She sleeps, after midday, for a while. They all do. This place is like a kirkyard, then! It would have to be done very gradual. A little at a time..."
"Yes—the King understands that."
"The great and favourite pieces would have to remain. On top. So that the loss of the others might not be noticed."
"The Queen will not inspect her jewellery now? When she is so ill?"
"No-o-o. But I do not know how often Anna may do so. As personal maid. She may deem it her duty. Indeed I have seen her wearing some of it, at times—the odd piece. Perhaps with the Queen's permission. They are close, both Danish."
"Aye—that is partly what troubles the King. What of the others? Her ladies, the countesses ... ?"
"I think that none would touch anything—meantime. But when the Queen is gone . ..!"
"Exactly! You will admit that James has reason for his fears. So you will help?"
"I will try. On condition that you, or the King, find me a place at Whitehall. And a good place. But, see you—it occurs to me, John, that all the jewellery will not be here. It was not all taken to Oadands. A deal must still be at Somerset House. The Queen was ill when she left there and has been ever since. Abed, not wearing jewels. So much is probably left."
"Ha! That, now, will interest James."
"Yes. Well, remember to tell him that it was I who told you! Now—enough of that." Her hand became busy under the bed-covers, and John had to put aside statecraft and high finance for the time-being.
That his representations had not been wasted, however, was proved before he had to leave for his down-river journey. Presently Margaret left him on the bed, saying to wait there and she would endeavour to find some food and wine before he went. Nothing loth, he lay—for it had been quite an exhausting interlude, what with one thing and another—and indeed he dozed over before the young woman returned. She bore a flagon of wine and some wheaten cakes and cheese, very acceptable. But, even more so, she presented him with a pearl necklace, a couple of diamond brooches and four gold rings, to take back to the King. Having been to the kitchens, she had gone upstairs to the Queen's suite, found all there having their afternoon sleep, including Anna Thorsten, and had taken the opportunity to slip into the dressing-room and 'abstracted' these items from one of the many drawers full of jewellery.
John was much impressed by this practical initiative and effectiveness, and said so. She told him pointedly that she looked for more than thanks and honeyed words. Her future was at stake. If the King wanted more where these came from, he must assure that future.
John returned to Whitehall with mixed feelings, his errand more successful than he could have anticipated; but he did not like this mission of filching a dying woman's belongings. And he was becoming uncomfortably aware of a steely ingredient in Margaret Hamilton's character, which might have to be reckoned with.
James, in another bedchamber interview, was delighted with his young kinsman's report, with the samples brought, and especially with the suggestion that there was probably much jewellery left at Somerset House, declaring that he himself would pay a visit to that establishment and see what was to be found. Meantime, Johnnie would make journeys up and down to Hampton Court every day or two, and ferry back all that the Hamilton lassie could extract.
John had some difficulty in penetrating the royal euphoria to the extent of getting it appreciated that the said Hamilton lassie was no meek and mild maiden, to do just what she was told, but a tough bargainer, almost he judged to be compared with Alderman Cockayne and the Merchant Venturers.
The King huffed and puffed at that, going on at some length about the insolence of underlings, his God-given authority to command all his subjects, and what could happen to those who did not obey. Then he changed to a more typical, jollying stance, suggesting that any man who was bedding a quean—as he wagered John was—and who could not get her to do more than open her legs for him, was unworthy to be called a man, especially a Stewart! It was John's turn to huff, although he could not demonstrate it in present company quite so openly as he would have wished; but he could show enough to indicate displeasure both at the implications and the crudity. James perceived it, of course, pulled at his lower lip, and surprisingly came out with a promise that he would make an arrangement whereby the young woman would have a place in his household. John could tell her that—his royal word. When, would depend upon the Queen's state, naturally.
With that John had to be content.
Next day the news of Ralegh burst upon the court, and for the time-being all else almost went into abeyance. The ship had finally docked at its home-port of Plymouth, and the news therefrom was all bad. Not only was there no gold, but two of the vessels had been lost. Almost worse, the expedition had, for some reason, attacked the Spanish town of St Thome, near the mouth of the Orinoco, and caused much damage and casualties. That Ralegh's own son had been killed in the process, gained him little sympathy— although this happening was alleged to have taken the heart out of the veteran explorer and almost certainly contributed to the lack of success thereafter.
James seldom actually showed anger, however frequently he demonstrated disapproval. But he was angry now; Ludovick said that he had never seen him so wrathful. The disappointment over the complete collapse of high hopes was bad enough; but it was the assault on the Spanish settlement which infuriated the King, after his assurances to Philip and warning to the expedition's leaders. Ralegh's immediate arrest was ordered. He would return to the Tower—for onward delivery to the King of Spain, as promised.
So Whitehall was in a high state of tension, for Ralegh's fate could affect many and much. He was no ordinary man but a former national hero, beloved of the populace, who saw him as a link with Gloriana in her rime of splendour. Parliament, always looking for sticks with which to beat the King, would undoubtedly rise to the defence of Ralegh, especially as most members disapproved of the proposed Spanish match for Charles, with its Catholic associations. The idea of sending him to meet his death in Spain would undoubtedly create uproar.
John, like everyone else, was affected by the atmosphere at court, and in the days that followed came to look forward to his visits to Hampton Court and Margaret's uncomplicated love-making—although that was hardly the phrase, for love did not come into the sheerly physical pleasure. The jewellery-extraction went on. She was taking items from v
arious drawers and caskets, never the principal or favourite pieces. But on each occasion the young woman grew more apprehensive over discovery. It was only a question of time. And then, what? She wanted John to take her back to Whitehall with him one of these days, and soon.
This request he passed on to the King, along with the jewellery, but James ignored it. In his present frame of mind, this was perhaps hardly to be wondered at—although he still grabbed the proceeds eagerly enough.
John asked his father for advice. Ludovick agreed that matters could not go on like this. It was foolish to wait for James to act over the young woman. She should be brought away from Hampton Court at once, before the losses were discovered. Then she—and John—might never be linked with the wretched jewels. But her removal would have to be effected discreetly. It would be unwise for John to bring her away—he would then be saddled with her, every finger pointing at an affair of the heart.
Wholeheartedly his son agreed. Who, then? How could it be contrived? And where would she be lodged? This palace was over-crowded already.
What about his friend, Will Alexander, the Duke suggested? He was friendly with Margaret Hamilton also, was he not? As one of Charles's gentlemen, he had quarters in St James's Palace, a great rambling place. Plenty of room there.
John was doubtful. Could he ask that of Alexander? Would not the fingers then point at him?
His father smiled. Will Alexander's back was broad enough for that! He was a noted lady-killer, living apart from his wife. None would raise an eyebrow at him.
So John went round to St James's, distinctly diffident. But his father was right. Sir William chuckled when he heard his young friend's predicament and what he had been up to, and made no bones about going to Hampton Court and fetching Meg; it would be a pleasure, and might well be rewarded. As to accommodation, he did not foresee any difficulty in finding her a corner in this ramshackle palace, temporarily at least. Charles used only a very small part of it, with no large number of attendants—and no interest in women—and besides was seldom there, preferring Greenwich or even Steenie Villiers' quarters at Whitehall, these two being now great friends.
Thus, next day when John proceeded to Hampton Court, he was able to tell Margaret that Will Alexander would be coming for her in a day or two and thereafter she would be lodging at St James's until the King's plans for her future were made clear. She was delighted, and showed him even more than usual favours, in consequence. She was relieved too, for she suspected that the loss of the jewellery had been discovered. On the last two occasions when she had taken items, she had been fairly sure that someone else had been investigating the contents of the drawers in the dressing-room. One ruby-and-pearl pendant on a chain, which she had thought of taking once or twice, was no longer there. One or two other pieces, with which she had become familiar, she could not now find.
Much perturbed, John asked whether she thought, then, that the game was up? To which the young woman answered that there had been no outcry as yet nor private accusation. It could be not so much that the game was up as that there was another player! Danish Anna might have guessed what was going on and decided that she might as well profit in a similar way.
Uneasy as John was on his way back to Whitehall, it did occur to him that this development could at least serve as an excuse, such as he needed with the King. So that night, when he proceeded as usual to the royal bedchamber with the latest takings, somewhat meagre, he was armed with a version of the situation which enabled him to gain James's approximate approval instead of the reverse that he had feared.
"Sire," he said, handing over a few rings and gems, "I fear that this will be almost the last of it. The loss of the jewellery appears to have been discovered. So far no accusation has been made against Margaret Hamilton. But she expects that all will now be watched, by Anna Thorsten or the ladies, and she dare not take more."
James frowned. "Unfortunate. A right pity, that. When it was going along nicely. But we've saved a fair whack o' it. And I got a deal mair frae Somerset House. Man, you'd scarce believe the amount o' costly gew-gaws and toys my Annie had amassed, aye amassed. Guid kens what she thought to dae wi' them a'. She couldna wear them a' if she spent the rest o' her days trying! She's aye been a right expense to me, has Annie. Varium et mutabile semper femina!"
"Yes, Sire. Women appear greatly to covet jewels, for some reason. But—this situation could be dangerous, Highness. For your royal. . . credit. It would not do if Margaret Hamilton was caught and admitted that she had been taking the jewels to pass on to you. It would ..."
"Guidsakes, it would not!" the monarch exclaimed indignantly. "Maist inappropriate. I told you, man—my name mustna come into this matter, at a'. D'you hear? I warned you—this is a fell private matter."
"Yes, Highness, I understand. So I have taken certain steps to, er, keep it that way. In consultation with Sir William Alexander. Clearly Margaret Hamilton must be removed from Hampton Court before this gets any further, before there are any developments or accusations. Sir William is going for her tomorrow or the next day. We thought it better that he should bring her away, not myself, in case my links with Your Majesty should be remarked upon, and having been seen with her frequently. Suspicion falling on me would not be to your advantage, Sire."
"U'mm. No. That is wiselike, aye."
"Sir William will take her to St James's Palace, meantime. Until Your Majesty decides what to do with her. It is the best that we could think on, Sire."
"Aye, well. We'll see. The lassie will be fine at yon St James's. She'll no' get much out o' Charlie! She'll hae to fend for hersel' meantime, see you—but I jalouse that yon one will be guid at that! For she winna hae you nor yon Alexander-man to dance attendance on her for a whilie, mind. You'll be otherwhere."
"Otherwhere, Sire?"
"Aye—in Scotland. The pair o' you. It's this o' Dumbarton Castle—a right hash and munsie you and Vicky ha' made o' that! There's a summons come frae my Scots Privy Council, requiring you to compear before it in a month's time, wi' Alexander o' Menstrie as witness, in the case o' yon skellum—whatever his name is? Aye, Middlemas, the fell rogue! It seems that you and the Sheriff-man arraigned him before the Council—and quite right too. But now he's counterclaiming to the Council against you, for non-payment o' certain moneys. I canna mind it a'—the paper's about here some place. But that's the meat o' it—siller! It's aye siller that's behind maist o' the ills o' this world!"
"But—how can Middlemas claim moneys? From me? He has been robbing your tax-collection for years, they tell me. Extorting moneys from others. He needn't think that he can do the same with me!"
"Ooh, aye—I hope you're right. You'll need to ask Vicky. He should hang, that Middlemas. If you and your Sheriff had taken and hanged him, there and then, instead o' hailing him before the Council, it would have saved a deal o' trouble! Now, he's claiming wrongous dismissal, or something such."
"But. . . ! He shut himself into the castle. Held the gates against us."
"Nae doubt. It's a' been mishandled, as I say. You'll hae to do better in future, man. But, meantime, you'll need to fight it oot wi' the Privy Council, laddie. So it's back to Scotland wi' you. And yon Margaret Hamilton will be short o' bed-fellows for a whilie! Unless you want to tak her wi you?
"No, no—certainly not! That would be unsuitable, Sire. When, when do we have to go?"
"In a day or two, just. And see you, while you're there, I want to ken when the paper is to start coming south, frae the mills. How much is ready to come. The second quality they're producing, for yon Cockayne. The prices it's to work oot at. And how the new mills are coming on. I was thinking of sending you up, anyway—so this nonsense of Dumbarton will serve some purpose. They have had time enough, those Germans, to mak plenties o' paper. I want to see results, man—results."
"Yes, Sire..."
Again, as so often on leaving Majesty's presence, John was aware of mixed feelings—concern over this Privy Council summons and money claims, alongside
delight that he was bound for Scotland again and relief that he would be well out of any complications over Margaret Hamilton and the Queen's jewellery. Margaret might well see it differently.
When he and Will Alexander left, three days later, on the long ride northwards, Ludovick, wishing him God-speed, confessed that he wished that he was going with them. Not only that he too longed for Scotland—or at least Methven and Mary Gray—but because London would be a good place to be out of, in the coming weeks. For although he and others had managed to persuade James not to send Ralegh to Philip of Spain, he was determined that the man should be executed. There was no need for a trial and all the upheaval that would cause. His previous sentence of death for the Main Plot had never been annulled, only postponed. He would die, and that was that; but, until it was all over, Scotland would be an excellent place to be.
14
They were in plenty of time for the Privy Council hearing at Edinburgh, but imagined that there would be preliminary interviews and proceedings to go through. However, although this might be so, they discovered that little could be done about it all beforehand. The Clerk, James Primrose, was, as before, at his Fife lairdship, and was not expected back much before the meeting on 8 August—and neither of the travellers had any desire to repeat their previous experience of Primrose hospitality. So, while John spent a couple of days with the paper-makers, Alexander actually went off for a brief visit to his estranged wife, who lived with her parents, also in Fife. He never spoke of his marriage, and John did not question him.
John found all well at the Water of Leith mills, with Vandervyk settled in comfortably, on good terms with the Germans and apparently spending most of his time in the Esk valley, converting two corn-mills. The work was well ahead, and he hoped that these would be producing paper before the year's end. The existing mills had manufactured the new second-grade paper such as the English appeared to want, and now had quite large stocks of it awaiting export. John worked out with the Germans a satisfactory price for this, remembering but not stating that the King would probably double this price for Cockayne. He then went off to Leith to arrange shipment from that port to London, when the price was accepted. This was all perfectly straightforward and should meet with royal approval. Will Alexander, when he came back from Fife, told John that, as the working partner in all this evidently profitable enterprise, he ought to be earning some fair proportion of the proceeds—but did not succeed in convincing the younger man that he should do anything about it, unless the King himself suggested it. He looked on all this as merely part of the royal service.
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