Spy for the Queen of Scots

by Theresa Breslin

  ‘So as not to shame you, we must discuss your conduct in private.’ Lord James took me by the elbow and steered me to the door.

  His effrontery was appalling but there was nothing I could do – except go swiftly to the adjoining chamber, open the window and lean out to listen as best I could.

  For the rest of the afternoon and evening and most of the following day, he subjected Mary to a self-righteous sermon, listing each of her personal faults and all the errors of her life to demonstrate how unfit she was to rule. By the end of the second night he so reduced her, with threats against her own life and suggestions that without his protection her baby son would not survive, that she felt her sanity slipping from her.

  By the time he left Loch Leven Mary was forced to accept that Lord James Stuart would become regent of Scotland, with the Earl of Morton as his deputy. It was a blow, for it seemed as if another lock had been put on our prison door.

  One advantage to the situation was that the rebel lords, feeling more secure in their position, were prepared to grant Mary some privileges. We were moved to better rooms, clothes were sent from Holyrood, and we could have entertainments. It meant that we had more contact with the servants in the castle. These included young Willie Douglas.

  Christmas came and Mary, who had asked for and received her needlework boxes from Holyrood Palace, made gifts for those who’d shown her kindness. I knew that Willie Douglas kept the square of cloth she’d embroidered for him inside his tunic next to his heart.

  By the spring of the next year her health had improved and our spirits also. The beating wings and cackling of migrating birds on the loch brought back a memory of Duncan and our ferry ride to Wemyss Castle. Part of me hoped he was out of harm’s way in his Knoydart home, yet I also hoped he was working to try to free us from our prison.

  Mary had written letters to all those whom she thought might support her, but we had no way of knowing whether these had reached their destination – until one day we had the most welcome surprise. Marie Seton was allowed to join us in Loch Leven.

  We hugged and kissed and cried tears of joy, and then asked for cake to celebrate. This was served and as we ate it, Marie brought us up to date on the happenings of the outside world. She prepared us by saying that her first piece of information was gloomy. The Earl of Bothwell was captured and imprisoned in Denmark, with small hope of release.

  ‘I fear Bothwell is doomed.’ Marie Seton had the good sense to know that, in circumstances like these, cold truth was best. ‘Private papers and bribe monies are being sent from Scotland to Denmark to ensure that he never goes free.’

  ‘Poor James,’ Mary said and then fell silent. After a minute she roused herself. ‘I will pray. It’s all I can do for him now. Perhaps later, if I gain my freedom . . .’

  I exchanged a worried look with Marie Seton. Mary’s relationship with Bothwell was the most disastrous of her life. And yet, without him she’d surely be dead by now.

  ‘Praying is indeed all we can do,’ Marie Seton said firmly, trying to close the subject.

  ‘God knows,’ I murmured, ‘he’ll need it. And now,’ I went on, ‘you have other more cheering news for us?’

  ‘Old Lady Douglas searched me and my clothes thoroughly and even had the heels knocked off my shoes.’ Marie Seton gave us a conspiratorial smile. ‘But she did not find the letters I brought you.’

  ‘You have letters!’ Mary exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement.

  ‘Majesty!’ I put my finger to my lips and nodded towards the door.

  ‘Real letters?’ She lowered her voice.

  My own heart was racing as I asked, ‘Uncensored ones from true friends?’

  In answer Marie Seton began to unwind her hair. ‘Am I not the most skilled hairdresser in Europe that I can use crushed paper as padding for my coiffure?’

  We fell upon her, laughing and giggling, and declared her to be the best hairdresser, not only of Europe, but of the New World and any other world yet to be discovered.

  There were scribbled messages, notes of support and pledges of loyalty from, among others, Lord Fleming, the Hamilton Stuarts, Sir David of Cairncross, Lord Herries, and of course Lord Seton. And in addition, a letter of apology and recommitment to her cause from the Earl of Argyll, who had sided with the rebels at Carberry Hill. There was also one for me from Gavin, urging me to remain cheerful and to let him know if he could help in any way.

  ‘Sir Duncan Alexander sends no word?’ I asked Marie Seton in as neutral a tone as I could muster.

  ‘Sir Duncan is planning your liberation,’ she replied. ‘He intends to smuggle you and the queen across the loch.’

  ‘What about you?’ Mary asked her.

  ‘When the time comes, I am to dress myself as your majesty and sit with my embroidery at the window, where I may be seen by all as you both secretly leave the island in servant guise.’ She held up her hand as we began to protest. ‘I have brought two travelling cloaks for this purpose. There is to be no argument on this, else it cannot take place.’

  Despite our entreaties, Marie refused to change the plan, and again there was wisdom in her words. She had the skill to arrange her headdress so that from a distance she looked like our queen. I was the better horsewoman to accompany the queen in her flight, and had no link to Scots nobility, as a Seton had, to protect me from the Douglas wrath if I remained behind.

  The prospect of escape changed everything. Once again Mary’s hair was shining auburn and she no longer stooped over in sickness and despair. She walked proudly about the castle and grounds. On festive occasions and holy days we put on our most elaborate clothes, and as we sat down to eat, we pretended that we were at Holyrood Palace or Stirling Castle or one of the royal châteaux in France. Then one of us would strum a lute or mandolin while the others danced with imaginary ambassadors and kings. As the weather improved, we went outside to enjoy some playacting:

  ‘Your majesty, the King of Spain requests that you might accompany him in a galliard,’ Mary said to me in her role of one of my ladies-in-waiting.

  ‘Pray convey my deepest regrets to the King of Spain,’ I replied haughtily, ‘but I am already engaged to dance the morelia with the Emperor.’

  On this day we were alone, because the wife of our jailor was in confinement, with her mother-in-law, old Lady Douglas, attending her. As Willie Douglas came through the gardens from the jetty on the loch, the queen intercepted him, saying, ‘Master Willie Douglas, I do believe the Queen of Scots wishes to offer you a knighthood for your loyal services.’

  The lad’s face went white and then red. ‘Majesty,’ he stuttered, and then halted, probably remembering that he was not supposed to address Mary in this way.

  Mary laughed gaily and indicated me. ‘It is Jenny who wears my crown today.’ Then, heaving a great sigh, she brushed a tear from her eye and said, ‘I fear I will never be Queen of Scots again. However,’ she removed one of her pearl-drop earrings and gave it to him, ‘I’d like you to accept this as a token of my intent.’

  The lad fell on his knees before her.

  ‘Rise quickly,’ I told him, ‘lest you are seen by the guards.’

  He went off in a daze.

  It was by such gestures that Mary engendered loyalty. I was sure that there was nothing calculated in these actions: the gift of the silver ring to Rhanza, the pearl earring to Willie. They were born of her generosity of spirit.

  At the end of April Willie Douglas brought me a loaf of bread. ‘I thank you, Willie,’ I said, ‘but the queen and I have already eaten.’

  ‘You may want to eat some more,’ he replied, holding the bread out for me to take.

  I crumbled it in my fingers, thinking I might as well feed the birds as let it go hard. There was crackle of paper. A note, handwritten:

  Be ready. Await the signal.

  Chapter 43

  ‘IT MAY BE a trap.’ The constant betrayals we’d suffered had made me suspicious. ‘I do not recognize the writing.’

&n
bsp; Marie Seton examined it. ‘It is from my brother!’

  Mary was ecstatic. ‘Our loyal friends must have a plan, else they would not send that message.’ She was rummaging in our clothes chest and pulled to the top the red petticoat I’d given her in Stirling. ‘I’ll wear this,’ she said. ‘Now we must find other garb that no one will remark upon.’

  A few days later we had a Maying feast where the Douglas family joined us at noon to eat at tables set out upon the grass. May was held to be Mary’s month, and so the queen was happy to take part in the singing and dancing. This helped distract us from our nervousness and our jailors from their vigilance. After the meal I walked with Mary and old Lady Douglas by the water’s edge. Lady Douglas enquired after Mary’s health and Mary replied, thanking her for her kindness when she’d miscarried.

  ‘I could not but help you. As you lay there, your features reminded me so much of—’ Lady Douglas stopped.

  Mary stopped as she caught the sense what the older woman was saying. ‘You mean my father?’ she said. ‘You have a memory of my father by whom you bore my half-brother, Lord James?’

  ‘I have no wish to bring you grief,’ the older woman said sincerely.

  ‘You do not offend me,’ Mary replied. ‘As my mother forgave my father his transgressions, so do I. Please do tell me more. I am eager to know anything about him.’

  ‘He was kind and handsome,’ said Lady Douglas. ‘You are like him in many ways.’

  I gazed out across the loch as they walked on, and suddenly, to my consternation, I saw a party of horsemen on the other shore. There were no visitors expected at the castle. It might be our rescue party!

  I glanced around. We were approaching the far side of the small island. The riders must have taken their route to avoid being spied from the castle battlements, and we had inadvertently led Lady Douglas in this direction! I looked ahead. Mary and Lady Douglas were beginning to ascend to a viewpoint. If Lady Douglas spotted the horsemen, our rescue would be discovered. I ran to catch up with them, breaking rudely into their conversation.

  ‘My Lady Douglas, I hear you speak well of our former king. It is a pity that we cannot speak so well of the son you bore him, for Lord James Stuart has caused my mistress a great deal of upset.’

  ‘Jenny!’ Mary was aghast. She turned to Lady Douglas. ‘Please excuse the Lady Ginette. I—’ She did not finish her sentence, for Lady Douglas had turned abruptly and was marching back to the castle.

  ‘Jenny?’ Mary stared at me.

  I took her by the arm and hurried her after Lady Douglas, explaining as I did so the reason for my outburst. From then on we were in apprehension, wondering when and how a rescue attempt might take place.

  Lord Douglas attended Mary for an evening drink before going to sup in his own apartments. He wandered over to where I was standing by the window and, looking down, remarked, ‘I must find proper employment for the orphan boy, Willie. It isn’t right that he whiles away his time messing about in the boats.’

  I glanced down. Willie Douglas was tying up the boats with heavy chains. My breath choked in my lungs and my throat constricted. It might mean nothing at all, but in tandem with the riders I’d seen earlier, Willie’s actions might have great significance. I took a deep breath and flicked a glance to Mary.

  ‘If you would assist me, my Lord Douglas,’ Mary held out her arm, ‘I think I might retire and leave you to attend to your wife and mother.’

  As he went to escort Mary from the room, I risked another glance from the window. The boats were all securely fastened.

  All bar one.

  In a state of suppressed excitement, we waited in the queen’s bedchamber. We decided to get ready in case this really was the night. Hands shaking, we dressed Marie Seton in the queen’s clothes, and Mary and I put on homespun aprons and shabby cloaks. We waited by the window, but nothing stirred in the yard below. After an hour we saw Willie Douglas carrying a tray of food covered in a large napkin towards Lord Douglas’s rooms in the opposite tower.

  ‘I thought Willie would be part of it.’ Mary’s voice was trembling. ‘If he is serving Lord Douglas supper, then we have wasted our time in preparation.’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ I said. ‘He might slip away as his master eats. I think you should lie down and let Marie Seton and myself keep watch.’

  I went to the bed and opened the bedcurtains.

  There on Mary’s pillow lay a pearl earring.

  ‘It is the signal!’ I said.

  Mary picked it up. She clasped it to her breast. ‘Can it be? Will it really happen?’

  We waited in silence. None of us wanted to talk of what might happen should we fail to escape. Willie Douglas would be executed, I thought. Perhaps they would kill Mary and me too – tell everyone that we’d drowned in the loch while trying to flee the island. There would be an outcry, but what could anyone do? Elizabeth of England would express her deepest regret. Catherine de’ Medici would feign grief for the loss of her former daughter-in-law. Both would want Mary’s black pearls to adorn their mourning dress.

  It was not until later that we found out how it was done. When clearing the supper table, Willie Douglas dropped a napkin over the castle keys where Sir William had laid them down. Then he had gathered them up with the dirty dishes and walked out of the room.

  Marie Seton beckoned us to the window when she saw him coming into the courtyard. He stopped and looked up.

  ‘Go!’ Marie lifted her embroidery and took her place in the window seat, forbidding us to come near her for a farewell hug.

  Drawing the cloaks about us, Mary and I tiptoed downstairs and joined Willie, who was now unlocking the castle gates. Once outside, we pressed ourselves against the curtain wall while he relocked them. For several seconds he stood there thinking what to do, and then threw the keys into the mouth of a nearby cannon. My heart was crashing in my chest. I expected a shout or gunfire above our heads. We went to where the boats were tied up. Just as Willie was helping Mary climb into the unchained one, I glanced to the side and noticed some washerwomen by the rocks. We stared at them, as they did us. One of them raised her hand. My stomach cramped in a spasm of terror.

  ‘God speed your majesty,’ the woman whispered across the water.

  Then we were in the boat, Mary lying on the floor, with me crouched beside her. Willie took the oars and, with a grinding and a creaking, we pulled away.

  ‘If they should pursue us—’ Mary began.

  ‘I have chained the rest of the boats,’ Willie said. ‘They cannot follow us.’

  Horses on the other side. As the boat came gliding in to shore, their champing and blowing seemed unnaturally and frighteningly loud. I raised my head. Figures moved in the dusk. One I’d have known anywhere, even in the gloaming of the spring night.

  Chapter 44

  THEY WERE CHEERING Mary on the road before we got to Lord Seton’s castle at Niddry.

  With the news racing ahead of us, even though it was past midnight as we drew near Winchburgh, folks had come out with lanterns and torches to call to their queen and wish her well. In high euphoria Mary greeted her friends and supporters, clasping their hands and insisting each one embrace Willie Douglas as the queen’s saviour.

  ‘Your name will be remembered in history for all time,’ she promised, and praised him so that I thought he might burst with pride.

  Within hours we were at Lord Hamilton’s Palace in the west, with that branch of the Stuarts who were avowed enemies of the Lennox side of the family. There, Mary officially renounced her abdication. Nine earls and bishops and twice that amount of lords pledged their support, including the Earl of Argyll, who had been with Morton at Carberry Hill. Men and money, arms and horses began to assemble under the queen’s standard.

  So quickly did our numbers grow that I was as hopeful as Mary that we could easily rout the rebels if they attacked us.

  Duncan was of a different opinion. ‘Hamilton is too difficult to defend,’ he said. ‘Lord Herries is still m
ustering his horse and we don’t have enough cannon or war-weathered soldiers to engage the enemy army.’

  ‘Sir Gavin has sent word to say that he is on his way from Strathtay,’ I said, ‘and Huntly will surely come too.’

  ‘The clans are gathering for their Queen,’ Mary said proudly.

  ‘We cannot wait for them,’ said Duncan. ‘For as they come, so also will others to help the rebels. Lord James Stuart was not idle during the year of your captivity.’ His face was drawn with strain and lack of sleep. ‘Your half-brother used your precious jewels, the privy purse and his power as regent to disburse lands and titles to anyone he chose. He generously rewarded his cronies who brought you down at Carberry Hill, and has attracted many more sycophants who are now rushing to his aid.’

  ‘There are some who do not consider it right to imprison and usurp an anointed queen.’ Mary smiled at the Earl of Argyll. She’d made him commander of the main body of our foot soldiers as he’d expressed his disgust at Morton breaking his promise of the queen’s safe conduct at Carberry Hill, and had now joined her cause.

  I recalled what Bothwell had said about Argyll facing both ways on his horse. His estranged wife, Jean, had an honest, forthright character. There must be good reason why she would not live as a wife with this man.

  In the face of Duncan’s pessimism Mary offered to negotiate with the rebel lords. Lord James Stuart refused.

  With Bothwell in captivity we’d no seasoned military leader, nor any hope of bringing his wild Borderers north to help us.

  ‘We could go to parliament,’ suggested Lord Hamilton.

  ‘Would parliament listen to me?’ asked Mary. ‘Is there any hope that I’d even arrive there alive?’

  Duncan shook his head. ‘John Knox has been preaching vehemently against you, demanding your death. I could not vouch for your safety in the capital.’

  ‘That is sufficient warning for me,’ Mary said. ‘If Sir Duncan Alexander cannot ensure my life, then no one can.’

  It was at this point that I began to think that we might lose. Every instinct I had screamed agreement with Mary. If Sir Duncan Alexander cannot ensure my life, then no one can.