"But these are ours. My husband's. The money for us to live together. As man and wife. In Orkney…"
"Yes. I understand. But you must understand my position also, Mistress. I am the King's jeweller. The Queen's also. Knowing these to be the Queen's jewels-or to have been-I cannot just buy them, in ordinary trade. What would His Majesty say? Or the Queen herself? "
"Then can I sell them to some other man? Can you tell me whom?"
"That is almost equally difficult. I cannot send you to any jeweller of repute in this city. They would all see it much as I do. Some crooked cut-purse trader down amongst the quays might take them-but give you not a tenth of their worth. And I could not advise such fate for the Queen's so excellent jewellery." "What can we do, then?" That was a quaver. He looked at them unhappily.
"I blame myself," Alison put in. "I confess, I feared something of this. Feared that there might be trouble in it That is why I proposed coming to you, Geordie. Perhaps I was wrong-should not have brought you into it. But I thought that you would know best. Would advise and help." She emphasised that last word.
He nodded acceptance of her appeal. "You did not do wrong. See you, Mistress-I shall not buy them. But shall take them from you, and hold them. Not in pawn, but in trust. I will give you money for them, such as you need. Not what they are worth. But sufficient for your need. If all is well and I may dispose of them in true trade, I will pay the remainder…" "Oh, Geordie-you are good!" Alison exclaimed. "Yes, indeed. That is most kind, sir. But… how much?"
"You thought of one hundred pounds? I will give you two hundred and fifty pounds-if that will serve?" "Two hundred and fifty! Sakes-so much?" "Only one hah of their true value, I'd remind you."
"What of that. In Orkney, two hundred and fifty pounds will make us almost rich! You are good."
"Scarcely that But, it must be understood-I may deal with these jewels hereafter as I think best. When I have made enquiries. It may be that they will go back to the Queen. I do not know. I must do what seems best for all."-
"Yes, yes. To be sure. We want nothing more to do with them, I swear!"
"I hope that it may prove as simple as that! See-leave them with me. You cannot carry two hundred and fifty pounds in gold and silver coin. I will give you fifty pounds Sterling now for your journey to Scotland. And my note-of-hand for two hundred pounds, to be drawn at my house in Edinburgh. My brother James will pay it, at your convenience. Will that do?" "It is better far than I had dared to hope, sir."
"Very well." He gathered up the jewels into their bag and went to unlock his strong box.
When, presently, he left to escort them back to the quay and the wine barge, with Margaret Hartside going down the steps ahead of them, Alison took the opportunity to murmur in Heriot's ear. "I came to you, for more than helping Meg. I thought you should know of this. I misliked the sound of it. There is something wrong, somewhere. You may discover what it is…"
"Perhaps it would be better not to discover!" he returned. "It could be awkward knowledge."
Amidst heartfelt expressions of gratitude, he handed over the two young women to the King's watermen and turned back for the Exchange. Deep in thought, he scarcely noticed the heat and the stinks.
***
Although George Heriot saw both King and Queen the very next day, it was only as one of London's citizens, and he had no opportunity for speech with either. James brought his royal brother-in-law up to town to see the sights, and Anne felt sufficiently recovered to accompany them with the royal children. They made a state ride through the city and attended a banquet, ending up at Somerset House-which was renamed Denmark House to mark the occasion. King Christian was a fine upstanding figure of a man, of a ruddy countenance, inclining to stoutness but with the height to carry it, a great eater, drinker and laugher, but with a marked capacity for enjoyment, in contrast to his brother Ulric's prickly temperament. He quickly became immensely popular in London, particularly as he gave presents on a truly regal scale and threw money about like water. King James became not a little concerned.
The second day, the royal sightseers repaired to the Tower, where they inspected the crown jewels, the coronation robes and the torture machinery. Also the Mint, housed there. Still more to Christian's taste was the bear pit, where quick thinking on James's part provided an unusual spectacle. The keeper informed his lord that only the day before a child had died there, having been, it seemed, accidentally left in the bear house. No satisfying explanation of how this had transpired being forthcoming, Anne -who had brought Henry, Elizabeth and little Charles with her as a treat-shed a tear for the poor innocent and declared that the parents must have been careless. James, although he did not weep, was less censorious and more practical. He left the keeper twenty pounds for the bereaved mother-and condemned the offending bear to death. Moreover, he stipulated the method of execution, the bear was to have the most savage of the lions set upon it, watched judicially by the entire royal party. Unfortunately the lion, when brought amidst great excitement, and assured to be ferocious, confronted with the bear in the pit, merely sat down and yawned in the heat, while the other animal busily searched for fleas. No amount of stimulation having any effect, two large mastiffs were brought and substituted for the lion. These proved by no means keen either, and when spurred on to the attack, went in about it so half-heartedly that they were cuffed away into a comer where they cowered and sulked. Much offended, James demanded half-a-dozen dogs of mixed breeds and sizes, with a young lion and lioness, all in together, with darts thrown to prick all into suitable activity. In the subsequent melee and hullabaloo, it was not very clear just what went on, much fur flew and blood and entrails came into evidence. King Christian, who had fallen asleep, was wakened up by Elizabeth screaming, and hurrahed vociferously in true Viking fashion, while James took the opportunity to improve on the situation by expounding to his children the moral lessons of what they saw, with Latin interpolations. The bear was almost certainly dead when the royal party left, and most of the dogs likewise, with the lion and lioness satisfactorily crunching up the remains indiscriminately. All agreed that the child had been suitably commemorated, in the end.
A move was then made to Westminster Abbey, to inspect the progress of the magnificent tomb James was having erected therein for his mother, the executed Mary Queen of Scots-which was to be the finest in the establishment, bar none, he declared. Not to seem to neglect her executioner and his predecessor altogether, he had the effigy on Elizabeth's tomb dressed up in mourning garments, very unusual. In none of all this had George Heriot, tradesman, any part.
He did, however, receive a summons to attend on the King personally, about three weeks later, the page who brought the message adding that he was to bring his kist and keys with him- clearly an indication that the King was requiring money again. This was not entirely unexpected, for most evidently entertaining and keeping up with King Christian was an expensive business. The two monarchs were presently at Theobalds Park, Cecil's seat in Hertforshire, for the buck hunting. The Queen certainly would not be there, for she hated Cecil and would not darken his door. Heriot learned from the page that she had, in fact, returned to Greenwich-which she preferred in high summer to London. The man decided that, before he had his interview with the monarch, who was almost certainly wanting something from him and therefore amenable perhaps to a little pressure, he ought to inform himself as far as possible as to the Queen's position. Accordingly, that very afternoon, he took boat down-river for Greenwich.
He was less warmly received at the great palace than was his usual. He learned that the Queen was indeed there, in her private apartments; but though he sent his humble duties and the request that Her Majesty might graciously receive him for a brief interview he was kept waiting an unconscionable time. Nor did Alison Primrose appear to lighten the tedium. When at length he was ushered into the royal sitting-room, it was to find both Hetty, Marchioness of Huntly and Lucy, Countess of Bedford, with the Queen. Neither made any move to leave a
t his entry.
Anne was apparently in a lofty mood. "A good day to you, Master Heriot," she said coolly. "I understand that you wish some speech with me?"
"Yes, Majesty-if you will be so kind. I would humbly say how grieved I was to hear of your recent great loss and sad sickness. And how rejoiced I am now to see you so well restored."
"I thank you. But I cannot think that you came all the way to Greenwich to tell me that, sir 1"
'Perhaps not, Madam. I had hoped that I might be permitted to have a word with Your Highness alone. On a matter of importance."
"I have no secrets from these my good friends, sir. And I hope that you have not come to talk about the tiresome matter of moneys, again. For I cannot help you in this. Until parliament sees fit to do its duty, and settle our royal revenues, I am quite unable to make repayments. You must needs apply to my husband, the King."
Heriot sought to make both features and voice expressionless. 'That is not the purpose of my visit, Madam. I know the position, passing well. My concern is otherwise. But… I hesitate to speak before these ladies."
'Then do not speak at all, sir. If it is unfit for their ears, it is unfit for mine, I vow" "If I may say so, not necessarily, Madam. But-as you will."
"In fact, Master Heriot, I think I know very well what brings you here. If it is not the money. It is the matter of that Primrose baggage, of whom you are so unsuitably enamoured I And of the other wretch, Hartside!" He drew a quick breath, but said nothing.
"I am much displeased," the Queen went on-sounding, for once, rather like her husband. "It is quite disgraceful. And that you, should aid and assist these wicked young women in their designs against their queen and yours, is a like shame. I would not have believed it of you!" That came out in a rush.
Staring at her, he shook his head. "I do not understand Your Majesty. Not fully. Yet, it seems you have believed it of me- whatever it is! Without seeking my explanation…"
"What explanation can you offer, sir, to meet the occasion! My property is stolen by my own servant-valuable property. And you, in collusion with another of my servants, Primrose, buy it, knowing it mine. Here is the work of an unprincipled huckster, I think!"
"Stolen…! Madam-can you mean what you say? Are you accusing Mistress Hartside of stealing your jewels?"
"Naturally. How else should my chambermaid have in her possession all these riches? She is a thief, sir. And her friend Primrose little better: And you abetted them, they told me. When I examined them."
"But… that is not how I was told it, Majesty. There is something far amiss here. I cannot vouch for Margaret Hartside's honesty-although I believed her honest But Alison Primrose I do know. She could never injure or despoil Your Majesty. She is honest as the day. She wholly believed the other's story, I swear. As did I."
"Aye-we all know how crazed you are over that pert jade! Despite being sufficiently old to know better, sir! I accept that you would believe anything she said! Apparently in preference to your queen's own word!"
He began to speak hotly, and checked himself with an effort. "Your Majesty may consider me foolish. But not dishonest. Mistress Primrose brought Mistress Hartside to me with these jewels. Believing that I could best advise her. There was no talk of theft The story she told was quite other…"
"I do not wish to hear the stories of a lying, thieving minx, sir!" the Queen interrupted strongly. "Spare me that. The fact remains-my jewels were stolen And must have been stolen, to be in a chambermaid's possession. As you should have known. And you bought them. Scarcely the act of my loyal jeweller-for whom I have done much!"
"With respect, Madam-no. I did not buy them, I took them, in trust. Until I had ascertained the true position…"
"So you did doubt? Yet you paid her money for them-much money. Is that not buying them? Do not bandy words with me, sir!"
"I would not do so, Majesty. I respect Your Highness's esteem too much for that. Acknowledge all that your influence has achieved for me." He almost pointed out to her however that her debt to him now stood at eighteen thousand pounds Sterling-but managed to forbear. "I but assure you that Mistress Hartside's account of this matter of the Earl of Orkney was…"
"Silence, sir! I will not hear you! I have heard more than sufficient of Orkney, and all concerned with him. Including this wretched woman. You will not name that name again in my presence." Her bosom heaving, Anne was most obviously in an unusually agitated state. "Is there anything else, Master Heriot?"
"Only that I must ask Your Majesty, whatever else, to absolve Mistress Primrose from all blame in this. She brought the other to me believing that I would know best what to do…" "She could have come to me, her mistress!" "That might have been less easy! In the circumstances."
"Just so! That I agree! At all events, whether she is guilty of dishonesty, or only of folly and error, she will have time and opportunity to repent of it. In Scotland!" He swallowed. "In Scotland! You mean…?'"
T mean, sir, that I have sent her home to her father. Where she will perhaps learn wiser behaviour. And Hartside also-only she is under close ward as a felon. And will in due course be tried for her crime." "But… but…"
"Do not but me, sirrah! These young women were greatly privileged to serve in my household, close to my royal person. They have betrayed my trust. And must pay for it."
"You have sent them both back to Scotland, Madam? Hartside also?" 'Yes. I will not have them near me, further."
'Your Majesty said trial? That Mistress Hartside is under arrest. Why send her to Scotland? Will you bring her back for trial?" "She will be tried in Scotland. In due course."
He eyed her thoughtfully. "That seems a curious arrangement," he said.
"She is a Scotswoman. And will be tried according to Scotland's law."
"When the offence-or the supposed offence-was committed here in England?"
"Sir-this is unbearable! I will not be questioned and harried thus. By you, or any subject I have stood more than enough. You will leave us."
'Yes, Majesty-if it is your royal will. But before I go, you may be glad to have these." And drawing the little leather bag from his doublet pocket, he placed it on a table. 'You will find all your jewels there, I think-or, at least, all that were given to Mistress Hartside!"
It was Anne's turn to gulp. She took a step towards the table, then drew back again, biting her hp.
When she did not speak, he went on. 'Your own returned to you. At my charges. With my compliments and loyal duty. That is why I came," he said. "I… I thank you," she said shakily, unsure of herself now.
"It is my privilege, as Your Majesty's faithful servant I would but plead that, now you have the jewels back, you will withdraw the charges against Mistress Hartside, and order her release. Of your charity. And allow Mistress Primrose to return to your services."
The Queen's features hardened. "So that is it! You are a rich man, Master Heriot, and would buy back your inamorata's presence here by this gesture. It cannot be. It is too late. And I do not bargain with subjects. Take your jewels, sir-and begone!"
"Your jewels, Madam. Not mine. Have you not said so? Stolen from you. I do bargain, frequently-but not with my sovereign lord or his lady. I leave them with you." He bowed deeply, and backed to the door. As he opened it, he added, as afterthought, "I would be so bold as to remind Your Highness that a trial might be injudicious. For you own interests. Even in Scotland. Talk, Majesty-talk "
***
It was almost evening next day before George Heriot could cover the distance to Theobalds. He arrived to a great stir and to-do, as Robert Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, mounted a splendid masque to entertain the two monarchs his guests, and to outdo, if possible, anything that the Queen might have put on. The fact that King James found masques tedious did not appear to weigh with him; perhaps Cecil's sights were set on impressing King Christian, whose Danish navy was a major factor on the European scene.
At any rate, no expense was spared, hundreds of workmen had been for days erecting
the huge open-air theatre around a grassy hollow, actors and musicians by the score nulled around, women abounded, and all was in readiness for the opening of the performance. Heriot perceived that his interview with the King would have to wait
He found Ludovick of Lennox dressing for the evening, after a hard day's hunting-and that friendly duke insisted that he shared the room with him, for he would not find so much as a comer unoccupied in all the great house. Two Courts and all the hangers-on taxed even Cecil's resources.
The two kings made an exhausting partnership, Lennox complained. They were all up with the larks each day, hunting and hawking, and up all night carousing, wenching, singing and playing practical jokes-to which the Danes seemed distressingly partial. That is, when anyone was sober enough to play them. Christian's appetites were enormous, like his capacity for every aspect of living; and James, who normally could make do with but little sleep, was beginning to wilt under the strain. As for the rest of them, they were all but foundered. The Danes, who were as preoccupied with women as they were with food and drink, had somehow collected vast numbers of females from far and near, and the house positively hotched with unattached and eager ladies of all ages, shapes, sizes and categories-much to Cecil's displeasure, who was something of an old maid. It was all just too much Perhaps it would have been better if the Queen had been present
Heriot was only half-hearted in his sympathy. He had other things on. his mind. He told the Duke about the jewels, the Queen's reaction, and what had happened to Alison Primrose and Margaret Hartside-and the questions all this raised.
Lennox was suitably perturbed. "What does it mean?" he demanded. "What can it mean? Is Anne lying? Or could the jewels indeed have been stolen? Perhaps not by this Hartside woman, but by another. Her husband, perhaps? Even Orkney himself. And given to her to sell"
"It is many months since Orkney and his party went back to Scotland-as you know, who are in a fashion responsible for him! Almost a year. And there has been no word of stolen jewels until now. If they were stolen, the Queen made no protest I cannot believe it so." "Then you think that she did give them to Orkney?"
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