The Wisest Fool

by Nigel Tranter

  "No. But marriages are for life. And a man that a girl of your age might think to wed, joyfully, she might find intolerable when she is older. And that, my dear, I think I could not bear!"

  "Geordie—how can I convince you that I know my own mind ? Have done, since ever I met you that day in Linlithgow Palace. I am no child—and have considered a plentitude of young men. And not so young. You know what it is like at Court. Many would have wed me—apart from those who merely wanted my body. And some were what, no doubt, my father would name a good match. But I kept myself for you. I knew that you were the man for me, Geordie—although I dreaded your riches. So—why wait months and years now ?"

  "Because your father would have it so, lass—and, however little of a child you may be in truth, you are far from of due age. And, to speak fair, I also would have to wait, Alison lass—the wiser side of me. For me to take you back to London and the Court as bride, now, would serve neither of us well. It would seem a defiance of the Queen. And though I might care little for that, in one respect—it would mean that you would not be received at Court That would be difficult, since I must be at Court myself, as the Queen's jeweller and the King's man-of-business. It would come between us. In time, this folly will be resolved, or will subside. A year or so, my heart—it would be best. Meanwhile, we are betrothed—which is a joy..." "Betrothed? Are we?"

  'Your father says so. He drank to our betrothal last night!" "Ah! He did? Geordie—did he ... did he talk about money?"

  The man cleared his throat. "A little. As was to be expected. A father has duties in this respect..."

  "Do not seek to spare him, or me!" she charged. "I know him. He will see you as a rich catch, I swear! A source of siller, to bind to him! This is what I had feared, dreaded. I will have none of it —do you hear? I will not be sold, chaffered over, like a heifer at a market"

  "Sakes, lass—never think it! When you are my wife, you will receive a jointure, as is suitable. So that should I die, you would have a sufficiency. Think you I would not insist on that?"

  "And that was all ? No shameful bargaining ? "

  "None. You are your own woman, Alison Primrose—and always will be, as far as George Heriot is concerned. That I promise you."

  "Dear Geordie! Why are you so good to me?"

  "I could tell you that, perhaps. But it would take a long time, ghl. You would have to be very patient, to hear it all. Are you a patient young woman? I think—I think it might be better if I told you while sitting down! Less ... wearying. You see yonder bushes, and the grassy bank between? As good a place for a long accounting of your attractions to me, attributes and delights— do you not agree? Retired, It would be a pity to be disturbed, in such a manner. Sakes —no need to run, my betrothed"

  14

  THE DAY FOLLOWING, George Heriot duly met the Duke of Lennox at Dunfermline. As expected, and as before, Ludovick had brought Mary Gray with him, that they might have this extra day together—which was an excellent excuse for Alison Primrose also to accompany her new betrothed so far on the start of his long journey to London. Much joy and excitement developed when the other pair heard the glad tidings; and thereafter a celebration was called for in the town's best inn—which had the effect of interfering with the men's fullest preoccupation with the raison d'etre for their visit to Dunfermline. They were, in fact, there to see the Chancellor.

  They did sent a message, presently, to the old Palace—where, as Heritable Bailie of the Regality, for the Queen whose property it was, the Earl of Dunfermline had his quarters while he built his fine new house—to inform him that the Duke of Lennox and Master George Heriot were in town on the King's business and would be grateful for an interview with the Chancellor at his convenience. Unfortunately for them, convenience brought the Earl, all too speedily, in person to the inn, to welcome his distinguished guests—or at least, the Duke of Lennox, the King's cousin and occasional viceroy. This rather interrupted the betrothal celebration.

  However, Alexander Seton as a pleasant and courtly character, as well as a poet and architect, unlikely a chief minister as he seemed for unruly Scotland, and he greeted both young women with gallantry and honeyed phrases. Indeed he seemed almost as reluctant as the two principals to drag himself away presently to attend to the King's business. Leaving the girls to their own devices for a little, he led the other two across the street and through the Pended Tower, to the Constable's House, where, in a private room, he produced more wine, and enquired as to their business.

  On the way thither, Lennox had rather mystified his friend by muttering hastily in his ear, twice, the phrase ‘The Queen's Casket Letters'; but no opportunity presented itself to elaborate on this, and Heriot did not know whether the Duke was referring to letters connected with Queen Anne's missing casket of jewels, or to the more famous and mysterious Casket Letters which had contributed so greatly to the downfall of the King's mother, Queen Mary. He wished that Lennox had thought to inform him of the meaning and significance of this before the Chancellor arrived. Admittedly their minds had been on other matters.

  Heriot did most of the explaining as to the reason for their visit to Scotland on the King's behalf, with Dunfermline looking ever more uneasy. But when he came out with the suggestion that, to avoid any public trial, the Master of Gray's suit might be heard in private before a special commission of judges, the Chancellor seized on it with obvious relief. Clearly he knew quite a lot about

  the background to the case, and was torn between his duty as the King's chief minister in Scotland and his friendship with Patrick Gray. But this seemed a suitable solution, he agreed—although it almost inevitably would imply that some sum would in fact accrue to the Master, for the indications were that the case was a genuine one. Yet, from all that he could gather, the King was unwilling to pay anything at all.

  "His Majesty is not anxious to pay for so old a debt, occasioned on state business," Heriot said carefully. "But, on the other hand, he would not wish to fail in what was just and due. He will never agree to fifty thousand pounds—which, we believe, is the size of the Master's claim; but that, it is thought, is mainly a charge for interest. Some lesser sum, consonant with the original loan, might be proposed by the judges and accepted by both sides."

  "To be sure. That would be the wisest solution, Master Heriot. But, it would have to be substantial, for the Master to agree. Have you any sum in view ?"

  "That would depend on the Master's case—which, of course, we do not know. And also, h'm, how much he needs this money which he has been so notably long in claiming."

  The Chancellor cleared his throat and took a few paces about the room. "That I cannot tell you," he declared, after a pause. "But—I think it possible that he might require the money ... somewhat urgently."

  "Why?" asked the blunt Lennox.

  "I do not know that I am at liberty to answer you in much detail, my lord Duke. For this is a close matter, to be put before the Privy Council. But since you are still a member thereof, and Master Heriot is here on the King's business, perhaps in confidence I may say something. The fact is that the unsavoury Logan of Restalrig has died—and the Master of Gray, his cousin, is an heir. He felt no close kin, and indeed was still under the King's forfeiture when he died—which much complicates the situation. The Lord Home is another heir-general. You will perceive the problems ? Especially as certain aspects of Logan's estate are very difficult, not to say dangerous. I fear that there will be much trouble before all is resolved. And more suits at court, perhaps I To the distress of the realm, it may be."

  "And his may have to do with Patrick Gray's demands on the King?"

  "Indirectly, yes. I am not in the Master's confidence, you will understand. But it is my belief that he requires much money, in order to gain something of, of notable cost. Which Logan's papers, now in his possession, reveal. Reveal the whereabouts of. Hitherto unknown, a secret..."

  "My God—the Casket Letters !" Lennox exclaimed.

  Dunfermline stared. "How did you
know?"

  The Duke glanced over at Heriot. "A whisper, my lord—no more. But—this is extraordinary. And dangerous."

  The Chancellor nodded grimly.

  "You mean the so-called Casket Letters of the late Queen Mary?" Heriot put in. "Were they not destroyed?"

  "Copies were destroyed. Those used against the Queen at her trial in England. But the originals never left Scotland. They have been lost—or thought to have been lost—for many years. And apparently are not! In fact are in, shall we say, dangerous hands!"

  "Orkney's ? " Lennox demanded.

  'Yes. I see that you know not a little of this, my lord Duke. The last known holder was the Earl of Gowrie—the first Earl, Lord Treasurer. After his execution, in 1584, they disappeared. It was thought that much of the trouble between the King and young Gowrie, at the Conspiracy of 1600, was on their account —for they could be very damaging towards His Grace. Now it appears that the Lord Robert got them. Robert Stewart, the King's uncle, first Earl of Orkney. His name appeared in certain of the letters, it seems. Logan of Restalrig appears to have been the go-between, carrying them to Orkney. So that Patrick Stewart, the present Orkney, inherited them. And now... !"

  "Now Patrick Gray seeks to buy them from Orkney?"

  "That is my belief, my lord Duke. Orkney is in sore need of money. He is grievously in debt, forfeited, and has not yet finished building his great palace at Kirkwall. Nor yet his castle at Scalloway. Both magnificent buildings. And building is an expensive business—as I know to my cost! Moreover he, Orkney, in trouble with the King as you know, has returned to Orkney against the royal commands. We may well have to outlaw him, King's cousin as he is. We fear that he will seek to defy King and Council from the islands—set up, in truth, a small kingdom of his own in Orkney and Shetland. This would require much money—which he has not got. So he seeks to raise it, wherever he may."

  "And he has had these Casket Letters all the time?"

  "It seems so."

  Heriot looked at Lennox. 'This could account for much. If they are so, so grievous as rumour makes them"

  The Duke cleared his throat. "They could be more explosive than Guido Fawkes's gunpowder, I think! They could even, it is said, throw doubts on James's right to the English throne. Or the Scots one, itself "

  "Scarcely that, surely!" the Chancellor protested, but without conviction.

  "What are they?" Heriot asked. "Letters from the Mary Queen to Bothwell ? Could such be so damaging ?"

  'There are, it is believed, at least twenty-two documents, not all letters," Dunferrnline told him. "There are said to be two marriage contracts, some love sonnets, and sundry proofs of various sorts. Nobody knows—other than Orkney, perhaps—just what the Casket contained. It is a silver-gilt box, a foot in length they say, bearing the Crown of France and the initials of King Francis the Second, Mary's first husband. She gave it to her lover, the Earl of Bothwell, before they were wed, before King Henry Darnley's death at Kirk o' Field. And Bothwell, when he fled in haste from Edinburgh Castle in 1567, left it behind. He sought to get it back, later—but he was too late. Morton had got it—and used it to damn the Queen. At Morton's execution, Gowrie got it, he being Treasurer."

  "And now the Master of Gray wants it—and is willing to pledge his all to get it!"

  "Better in the Master's hands than Orkney's" the Chancellor said. "At least he would not use its contents against the realm."

  Heriot looked at the Earl curiously, but did not comment on that. "What is so dangerous to the King, in this ?" he asked. "You say it could endanger his throne ? Why ?"

  Lennox shrugged. 'The letters may be false, forgeries. But it is said that one of them throws doubt on James's legitimacy."

  "Good God!"

  "That, I am sure, is folly!" the Chancellor declared. But he looked agitated and less sure of himself.

  "You believe, then,' that Patrick Gray did not know that Orkney had these letters—like other folk—and only learned of it from the late Logan of Restalrig's papers, which he inherited, but, having discovered it, and knowing that Orkney needs money, he is seeking to purchase them?" Lennox asked.

  "Exactly."

  "To what purpose ? "

  Dunfermline took a long breath. "That I do not know. But... I would liefer see the Casket Letters in Gray's hands than in Orkney's."

  "And yet Orkney has not used them?"

  "Do we know that he has not ?" Heriot put in.

  There was silence.

  "I think that he may have done. But. . . perhaps less subtly than Gray would do !"

  Again neither of the others commented.

  "What, then, is to be done?" Lennox demanded.

  "I would say, encourage Gray to get the letters. Or—do not hinder him. At least, then, we would know where they were. We might be able to get them from him—which we can never do with Orkney," the Chancellor said. "Gray is a man who has served the realm well, many a time—Orkney never. Who knows —he may only wish to sell them to the King, at a higher price."

  It was Heriot's turn to remain silent.

  "I think that I agree with my lord," Lennox said. "Better that Patrick should have the Casket Letters—if indeed they still exist —than Orkney. But must either have them? If Orkney would sell them to Gray, would he not sell them, for a better price, to others ? Acting for the King ?"

  "Not, I think, if he knew they were for the King," Heriot said slowly. "As I see it, he will give the Master the originals, and keep copies for himself. If the King has the originals, such copies would be almost valueless. But if not, he might still use them against His Majesty."

  The others nodded acceptance of that.

  "It is a damnable fix!" the Duke declared. "But I think that we should allow Patrick to get them—if he can. And then seek to deal with him. It puts him in a strong position, yes—but at least he is a man we can negotiate with. And possibly counter. Whereas Orkney.. .!"

  "My view entirely," Dunfermline nodded.

  'Therefore we should not advise the King wholly to resist Gray's claim, before a commission of judges."

  "What sum do you suggest, gentlemen?"

  The Duke looked at Heriot

  "Twenty thousand pounds," that man said. "No more."

  "Yes. Suitable. Fair."

  "I think that it could be... arranged."

  Before they left the Chancellor, Heriot asked if there was anything the other could do to aid Margaret Hartside—and found himself up against a stone wall. This was entirely a matter between the Queen and her officers, he was told. The woman was Her Grace's private servant, concerned in a private offence against her, and being examined by her officers. There was nothing that he, or other, could do, unless Hartside was actually charged in open court. Blackness Castle was admittedly a state prison; objection might be taken to her presence there. But she could be held in any of the royal properties—and would she be any better off?

  On that note his visitors returned to their ladies.

  * * *

  "I think it is clear to me now what is behind all this mystery," Heriot declared to his friends. "Behind possibly both of the matters we are concerned with. Orkney has been using these Casket Letters to threaten the King, his cousin, to extort mail, blackmail. Likewise the Queen. That is how he got the jewels— by threatening to deliver the letters, or copies of them, to the King's enemies, those who would unseat him and put Arabella on the throne. If there are doubts as to the King's legitimacy, then his tenure of both thrones could be at risk. This is the hold Orkney has had over both James and Anne. They have been paying him to keep silence."

  "But," Mary objected, "if Elizabeth and her Council had copies of these letters—as they did in 1568, when they shamefully tried and executed Queen Mary—they would know about this. About the King's possible illegitimacy. Or, at least, proofs thereof—for always it has been suggested, by some, that he was Riccio's son. If they knew, would James ever have been allowed to succeed Elizabeth?"

  "I thought of that, yes. Bu
t we need not suppose that all the letters, or copies, were sent to Elizabeth and Cecil. Moray, the half-brother of both Queen Mary and of old Orkney, it was who arranged it. The eldest of James the Fifth's bastards. He wanted his sister condemned—shame on him ! But he would not want his nephew James put aside, for Arabella or other. He wanted to — and did—rule Scotland in the name of his nephew, as Regent After Morton. The Good Regent Moray! No advantage to him if Arabella had become Queen. Or any other, in Scotland or England. He himself was illegitimate, so he could not have the throne himself. James, so long as he remained youthful and could be dominated by Moray, was his card to play. So he would not send South any letter which' questioned James's legitimacy. Even though there may have been one."

  "It hangs well together," Lennox admitted.

  Mary nodded. "Yes. That was the only flaw I saw in it all. No doubt you are right, Geordie. And now my father, through Logan's papers, has discovered the secret of who has the Casket Letters—and wants them! And Orkney will sell—for a sufficiently high price—now that he is outlawed and greatly needing money. So Patrick revives this ancient debt of the King's with interest. And who knows what other sources he seeks, to gain the money?"

  "And the Earl of Orkney seeks to sell the Queen's jewels, for so much as they will fetch," Alison put in. "Those that Margaret tried to sell to you, Geordie, perhaps were just the first A test and trial, to see if they would sell in London. At higher prices than they would in Scotland. With poor Margaret duped as seller. If she had succeeded with those, others would have followed—for she says that the Queen gave Orkney a whole casketful."

  "No doubt. But why then did the Queen turn against this Margaret and you?" Mary asked. "If she knew very well that the jewels were not stolen Why put the blame on Margaret?"