The Gowrie Conspiracy

by Alanna Knight

  Lennox had not wasted any time since the king’s remarkable rescue by Master Eildor. Enquiries were already well under way and had yielded a means by which this interloper might be despatched. In his own employ, he was fortunate to have Sandy Kay, one-time body servant to Walt Murray, Tansy’s legal husband, who was paying Kay to keep him informed of any matters concerning his estranged wife.

  Divorces were tricky, difficult and costly even when a wife was barren, and Kay hinted that something more urgent and permanent engaged Murray’s thoughts. How to rid himself of his unwanted spouse so that he could marry his present mistress and declare their son his legitimate heir?

  That any connection between the dead woman Agnew and Tansy Scott might lead to destroying Tam Eildor loomed large in Lennox’s mind. With the interesting possibility that several scores might be satisfactorily settled with Tansy Scott and Eildor both obliterated with one well-aimed stone.

  In Tansy’s apartment and awaiting a supper of soup, roast meat, bread and ale that was being prepared by Tansy’s servant, Will Hepburn informed them that this was but a fleeting visit. Before escorting Tansy to Perth he had business to attend to and was heading to Edinburgh to visit his lawyer, an elderly cousin.

  Tam observed the newcomer closely. Tall, good-looking, Will’s forty years sat lightly upon him. From his father James, Earl of Bothwell, he had inherited dark auburn hair and fox-brown eyes, but other than colouring he had none of the tough aggression that characterised the Border warrior breed.

  His fine features were the inheritance from his Norwegian mother, Anna Throndsen, who had returned to her own country when she realised that the bastard son she had borne the Earl of Bothwell did not guarantee her marriage as his betrothed, or the right to be received in royal society as his Countess.

  With no place in court circles, Will had eventually assumed the role of a county gentleman of good estate, enjoying the leisurely pursuits of hunting, riding and the cultured social attributes of a peaceful country life.

  Tam had watched Will and Tansy embrace. This was no lovers’ meeting but the continuation of a long-standing relationship for a couple who should have been settled down with a family had Fate not decreed otherwise.

  In his growing affection and attraction to Tansy, Tam recognised there was need for Will Hepburn, whose love would endure long after his own transient appearance in their lives. Introduced, Will turned to him, smiling. His handshake firm and warm, his friendly expression indicated that he was prepared to be well-disposed towards the mysterious Master Eildor.

  As Tansy led the way to the little parlour where they were to sup, Will said, ‘Tansy has written of you. That she had a visitor from the Borders – distant kin,’ he added with a curious look that invited explanation.

  There was none forthcoming from either.

  Will smiled. ‘I have been looking forward to meeting you.’

  Truth to tell he had been apprehensive. Although Tansy had told him nothing that should give rise to alarm, conscious of his good fortune, Will’s fears were always that his adored and vulnerable mistress might be snatched from him by some handsome rival. And the extremely comely young man before him who now shared her lodging, however distant kin, suggested ample grounds for anxiety and suspicion.

  Except for one remarkable factor.

  Releasing Tam’s hand, Will looked across at Tansy and smiled, his relief evident. ‘Master Eildor is no stranger to me.’ And turning back to Tam he bowed. ‘We have met before, sir.’

  Tam shook his head, bewildered. ‘That cannot be, Master Hepburn.’

  ‘I assure you it is,’ said Will, who continued to regard him intently. Nodding vigorously, he continued, ‘Do you not remember? It was at Lady Morham’s – my granddam’s – home in East Lothian. I was four years old and you were on your way to Branxton Castle. I recall that you were steward there – to the household of Tansy’s granddam, Lady Janet Beaton.’

  And at Tam’s confused expression, ‘Marie Seton was with you. Surely you remember? Marie Fleming was visiting kin and about to be married.’ He waited for Tam to say something. There was no response.

  Will sighed, disappointed. ‘I remember it perfectly in every detail. We had so few visitors at Morham,’ he added with a touch of melancholy.

  And something stirred in Tam’s mind, a sudden flash like a scene he had witnessed as an onlooker.

  Will as a small child sitting on an old lady’s knee. There was a woman in the background, a young woman. Fleeting pain and heartbreak. The agony of loss.

  A half-forgotten dream.

  Except that when Tam slept out of his own time, there were no dreams. He merely opened his eyes again on another day in one continuous pattern.

  In that instant the vision of the small child was lost.

  Although Tam was allowed neither dreams nor the indulgence of memory, Will Hepburn had somehow slipped through the eradication procedure of a mind wiped clean of previous encounters before the next quest began. Not so Janet Beaton, despite Tansy’s intriguing suggestion that they had met before. If only he could recall something of that occasion.

  Now Will was regarding him curiously. ‘You do not remember?’ he insisted. ‘It is quite extraordinary.’ Pausing he regarded Tam with a puzzled frown. ‘Obviously I have made a mistake.’

  And to Tansy, who was listening intently, her gentle smile offering no attempt at explanation. ‘That must be so.’

  Then again to Tam. ‘You look exactly as I remember you, sir, thirty-six years ago, when I was four years old and you were a grown man.’ And shaking his head, bewildered, ‘May I ask how old you are now, sir?’

  ‘I am thirty-six.’

  Another pause. ‘Are you then some kind of a wizard, sir?’

  Although his voice was gentle and mocking, his glance at the silent Tam held anxiety and demanded explanation. There was none forthcoming. Will’s sharp look at Tansy held an element of warning, for such creatures were dangerous associates for his beloved.

  Aware of his bewildered concern, Tansy touched his arm and said lightly, ‘Perhaps you were mistaken, Will. That was a very long time ago and maybe it was someone who looked like Master Eildor. After all, doubles are not impossible, especially when one lives in the Borders where gentlemen as well as the steel bonnets spread themselves somewhat freely.’

  Will eagerly seized upon this possibility. ‘Your father, sir. Could it have been he that I met that day?’

  Tam shook his head, thought fast and said, ‘I think not, my father did not come from England.’

  Aware of the tangled web Tam was getting into, Tansy said, ‘We are very glad to see you, Will. You have come at a most opportune time. We need your help. Something terrible has happened –’

  ‘How terrible?’ Will demanded anxiously.

  ‘Mistress Agnew, the queen’s midwife has been killed.’

  ‘Killed – how so?’

  ‘Murdered, Will. Murdered. We found her just hours ago –’

  Tansy had changed the subject so swiftly Tam realised that, for her own reasons, she had not told Will about Janet Beaton’s prediction that one day Tam Eildor would return. Lovers did not always tell one another everything and presumably Will was to be excluded from that information.

  Listening to Tansy relating the details of the tragedy they had witnessed, Tam knew that the fewer who shared the secret of his identity, the better. Such knowledge was indeed dangerous in the court of a king who had an obsession about witches and warlocks. He did not want to burn should James’s infatuation for him be distorted by jealous enemies into suspicions of witchcraft and sorcery.

  ‘So they removed the body,’ said Will at the end of Tansy’s dramatic disclosure. ‘They would presumably take her to the guardroom and will keep her body until they find kin to bury her.’

  ‘That will be no easy matter, Will,’ said Tansy. ‘Very little is known about Margaret Agnew or her kin.’ And in a horrified whisper, ‘What think you of the fact that the dagger was replaced and
dismissed as a tragic accident? When Lord Fotheringham found her it was not a dagger but shears in her breast. My shears,’ she added grimly.

  Will put a consoling arm around her shoulders. ‘Tansy, my dear Tansy,’ he said soberly. ‘There is certainly a mystery here, but it is my most earnest desire – indeed I implore you – that you do not involve yourself in this matter, even knowing the unfortunate woman as you did.’

  Shaking his head, he glanced over at Tam. ‘I feel that there is much more in this unhappy story than we will ever be allowed to know about. If you have any ideas about what goes on here in Falkland, then you must realise that the king’s authority is final – and dangerous to those who unwittingly offend him.’

  Again he gave a sad shake of his head. ‘I cannot explain why but I suspect a sinister reason behind it all. A reason which goes deeper than the poor woman’s death. In these circumstances, it would be well for all of us to look the other way.’

  ‘Look the other way!’ Tansy exclaimed. ‘That I will never do, Will Hepburn. Agnew never harmed anyone. She was a good kind soul – a friend to many in this court and to me – ’

  ‘A friend, dear Tansy. Could you really claim her as a friend, this woman about whom you know nothing?’ Will interrupted shrewdly and, including Tam in his sharp glance he added desperately, ‘I beg you, sir, if you know any means of dissuading Mistress Scott from interfering in this matter – ’

  ‘Interfering!’ Tansy was furious. ‘I will not be told what to do, Will Hepburn, not even by you.’

  Will’s arm about her tightened. ‘Indeed you will, my dear,’ he said his voice soft but stern. ‘Listen to me, both of you. Realise there are dangerous forces at work. Someone wanted Margaret Agnew dead and it would be better for all of us if we did not know why and did not try to find out. If we remained silent,’ he added emphasising the words.

  Turning again to Tansy, he said sternly ‘I have warned you. I like it not your being close to the queen and I want you kept clear of court intrigues, so step aside and do not become involved.’

  To Tam, he said earnestly, ‘I do not care for Mistress Scott’s relationship with the Gowrie family either. The king hates them. He bears a long grudge – ’

  ‘Master Eildor knows all about that,’ Tansy put in shortly.

  ‘Very well,’ said Will. ‘But do not imagine that King James has forgotten – or forgiven – the Gowries or anyone related to them.’

  ‘This is old history,’ said Tansy impatiently.

  ‘Old history perhaps, but by no means forgotten or forgiven. If there is one thing certain sure, the king has a remarkable memory for those who abuse him. He is prepared to wait patiently, years if necessary, to have his revenge. And I do not doubt that his day will come.’

  Tansy darted a frightened glance at Tam as Will continued solemnly, ‘As a close neighbour to Ruthven, I have heard much that disturbs me and one day, sooner or later, James will strike at them. When he does so, Master Eildor, I do not want my Tansy to be involved. Because he will not spare her. Or any who have associations with the Gowries.’

  Will’s words had a sombre echo for Tam. He knew instinctively that there was a grain of truth, of deadly foreboding, that Mistress Agnew’s death and the careful efforts to mark it as an accident were only the prologue to a greater tragedy. Yet even if he knew the nature of the imminent danger to Tansy Scott, he was helpless to avert it, with no power to change the course of recorded history.

  As Tansy once again changed the subject to more general remarks about Will’s visit to Edinburgh, a page came in and announced that Her Grace wished Mistress Scott to wait upon her immediately.

  ‘This will be more about her costume for the Masque,’ groaned Tansy. To Will she said, ‘Is it possible that you might be back with us by Saturday, then you could escort me.’

  ‘I cannot be sure,’ said Will, ‘but if I fail to return in time, perhaps Master Eildor?’

  ‘I will do so gladly, sir.’

  Will smiled his thanks. ‘Meanwhile I will escort you, my dear, to the queen’s apartments.’ And taking Tansy’s hand, he turned again to Tam. ‘May I ask you, sir, in my absence from Falkland to watch well over my lady?’

  As Tam bowed his assent, Tansy’s eyes raised heavenward and her lips tightened perceptibly, indicating that she felt she needed no man to guard her and that she was well able to take care of herself.

  Preparing to depart, Will looked out of the window. ‘It rains again, I see. You will need your cloak.’

  Tansy avoided his eyes. ‘Oh, I left it in the queen’s chamber.’

  As Will shook his head and said, ‘Have mine, then,’ Tansy’s swift glance in Tam’s direction held mute appeal. It warned him not to mention that Mistress Agnew had been wearing it when she was murdered.

  Taking their leave of Tam, as they walked across the courtyard, Will said, ‘I am not convinced.’

  ‘Convinced about what?’ asked Tansy, knowing perfectly well.

  ‘About Master Eildor. I am certain that we have met before.’

  ‘That you cannot be, love. You were just a child.’ Even though she said the words, Tansy knew what Will had an exceptional memory. Conscious of his intent gaze, she asked, ‘What is amiss, love?’

  He laughed. ‘Do you ever look in your mirror, my Tansy?’

  She frowned. ‘Indeed I do.’

  ‘Then has it not occurred to you that there is a very close resemblance between you and Master Eildor. You could be siblings.’

  Tansy shook her head. ‘Alas, I had neither brother nor sister,’ she said sadly.

  Will smiled. ‘Distant kin, you said.’

  ‘Remote cousins,’ said Tansy abruptly, not wishing to continue this conversation. Unhappy to deceive Will she had nevertheless sworn to Janet Beaton never to reveal Tam’s origins and she was determined to remain true to her word.

  Will’s arm tightened about her. He looked down into her lovely face for a moment. ‘Distant kin, eh?’ and stroking his chin thoughtfully, he smiled wryly. ‘And we are not unaware of what goes on in those wild Border strongholds.’

  Tansy smiled, relieved that Will had found his own solution to her likeness to Tam.

  ‘The Tam Eildor I met had some connection with your granddam, Lady Beaton. Perhaps that is the link. She was a very strange woman.’

  Pausing he looked at Tansy, hopeful for an explanation.

  He waited in vain. Tansy remained silent and he asked, ‘What do you know of his early life?’

  ‘Only what Granddam told me before she died. And that was very little. But she told me I could trust him.’

  ‘And do you – trust him?’

  ‘With my life, Will,’ said Tansy firmly.

  ‘Then let it be so.’ And kissing her fondly at the entrance to the queen’s apartments, he held her close for a moment.

  ‘I will not be long, love,’ she whispered. ‘You will stay?’

  ‘I will, but I must be on my way by early morn.’

  She stroked his cheek gently. ‘There is a whole night before that.’

  Leaving her, he realised that this had always been the story of their lives together. From the very first, only a few stolen days and nights together. Even for that, they must be grateful, he thought.

  Returning to her lodging, Will was already framing some searching questions for Master Eildor about what circumstances had brought him to Falkland Palace to visit a remote cousin. And in particular, how long he intended to stay.

  Chapter Five

  Anticipating Will’s return and doubtless some probing questions about his background, Tam conveniently absented himself. He had no wish to be interrogated or have to deal out unnecessary lies to Tansy’s lover.

  Avoiding direct lies for the complications they caused, one lie begetting others, to tell the truth would be incredulous to those living in the sixteenth century. As well as an invitation to disaster in an age dominated by a king whose obsession was with witchcraft and who had already written a learned treatise o
n the subject.

  Tam guessed shrewdly the need to take great care and walk warily. Suspecting that through the king’s evident infatuation he had made a powerful enemy in the Duke of Lennox, he was certain there would be others who had witnessed the incident of the runaway horse and his rescue of the king.

  Certain that no stone would be left unturned in their efforts to poison the king against him, he was in little doubt about the result and what would be his fate. To be dismissed as a sorcerer, thrown into prison – or burnt as a warlock.

  His immediate plan after Tansy departed was to set off in search of the man Mistress Agnew had visited in the village. However, as he walked across the courtyard darkness was falling, the heavy dusk of a hot summer’s day had settled across lawns white with dew, and trees heavily burdened with summer leaves seemed ready to droop into exhausted sleep.

  Not everyone slept. From the king’s apartment came raucous sounds of merriment, laughter mixed with the sound of music inexpertly performed. Candles were lit in the windows and he could well picture the scene within.

  It was peaceful in the gardens. Time for the wild creatures who lurked in woods nearby to live out their short lives. Night-time insects too were on the move. Bats fluttered before his face and large moths danced in his path to the tune of an owl’s melancholy hoot from a branch above his head.

  Such peace. But twilight was fast fading into the dark side of the moon lying like a cloak enveloping the huddle of thatched roofs that made up the royal burgh of Falkland.

  A watchman on his rounds called out the hour. ‘Nine o’ the clock and all is well.’

  Was it really, thought Tam? He would hazard a guess that he had lost his opportunity and it was already too late to call on the unknown man who had been brother – or lover – to the murdered woman. Most probably the latter, which accounted for her embarrassment at meeting Tansy outside his door.

  Ordinary folk who had only rush-lights to see by and who never knew the luxury of wax candles retired with the dark and arose with the dawn. Mistress Agnew’s lover would doubtless have long been abed.