The Queen's Almoner Page 3

  She laughed again. A soft, yet hearty laugh that let me know that it was truly felt and not given out of obligation. She turned fully toward me then, and I saw a glint of merriment in her eyes.

  “You took that obligation very seriously if I do recall. I seem to remember a time when I had gotten injured, and you carried me all the way home to get help, then didn’t leave my side until our mothers shooed you away.”

  “You were bleeding,” I said in my defense.

  I recalled vividly the incident that she referred to. On that particular day, we had decided to play in a cave I had found. I spread a blanket on the ground as the queen and the four Marys set about dressing their dolls. A boy who had also accompanied us, dumped a satchel of apples out onto the blanket and then proceeded to draw out a small dagger that he had found. The girls’ eyes lit up when they saw the shiny object, and the boy carelessly whisked it back and forth as if to fight some unseen enemy.

  Later in the day, in the process of packing up, she scraped her arm on the tip of the boy’s dagger. Blood spurted all over her dress, and the sight of it made Mary limp. She let out a small gasp before collapsing on the ground. I immediately grabbed the blanket and wrapped her arm as the girls began to wale. The boy, standing there stupidly, looked as if he himself could cry at any moment. He knew his fate once it was discovered that he had caused the young queen harm.

  Returning to the conversation I said, “I’m the one who took us up to that cave. It was my obligation to make sure that no harm befell you while you were with me.”

  “Yes, but you didn’t cause the injury. What was that boy’s name? Frederick? Francisco?”

  “Ferdinand,” I supplied.

  “Ferdinand! Yes, that was it.”

  “Aye, and I took care of him when I saw him a day later.”

  Her eyes grew round as goose eggs at that, and she laughed delightfully. “What did you do, Thomas?”

  “I snatched him up by the collar and shook him as hard as I could. I told him if he ever did something as stupid as that again I would have his head on a platter.”

  Mary covered her mouth with her hand as she doubled over in laughter. “He was the Italian ambassador’s son. You could have been severely punished! I’m surprised he didn’t tattle on you.”

  “That was a chance I had to take.” I fought to keep the corners of my mouth from curling up. She was getting too much enjoyment out of this, but I loved to see her delight. “Besides,” I continued, “I threatened him about that as well. I reminded him that it was his indiscretion that caused your injury, and if he told anyone about our conversation, that I would tell all I knew about how you got hurt.”

  “Thomas! You didn’t!”

  “Aye, I felt bad about it later, but I didn’t tell him that. It was my task to protect you, so…I did what I had to do.”

  “And who has mandated you to such a task? Who would hold you to such a great responsibility without any payment in return for your trouble?”

  “The Almighty,” I replied simply. And with that her smile faded, and a serious expression took its place.

  “I am thankful for the Almighty’s benevolence. To entrust my safety and happiness to such a loyal and dedicated subject, I couldn’t be more grateful.” Mary paused, as if choosing her next words carefully. “But I fear that even you will not be able to protect me from the Protestant Reformers. Already they seek to have me deposed. I’ve heard rumors that John Knox has been encouraging disloyalty among my patrons before I even stepped foot onto this blessed shore. He thinks because I am a woman that the Almighty could not have possibly ordained me to sit upon this throne. He thinks because I am a Catholic that the Almighty would not have done likewise.”

  “You’ve spoken to him then?”

  “No, I have learned this all from hearsay. I haven’t even breathed the air of the land of my birth for a day, and already I am bombarded with rumors, accusations, and heresies. Thomas, how shall I ever manage these barbarians?”

  She trembled with her last words and sounded as if she would give way to tears. I wanted to reach out and comfort her, just as I had done when we were children, but it was no longer proper to do so. Suddenly, she looked at me with eyes full of fear.

  “Oh Thomas, please forgive me. I do not mean to offend. I do not mean to address our people as if you all are the barbarians, and I am immune from the curse. I just feel so out of my realm. Scotland is nothing like France. Already I miss the palace, the food, the music, the company, my acquaintances…”

  With that, she finally let the tears fall and sought consolation on my shoulder. I was speechless. Twice today I had managed to bring a woman to tears, and this time, I didn’t even have to speak a word. I was unsure how to respond to the queen’s dejection.

  “Your Majesty, you must pull yourself together. James is a good and honest brother. He will not allow your throne to be taken away from you so easily, and he certainly will not allow these men to coerce you into doing something against your conscience.” I took her hand and held it in mine until I could feel her trembling subside. “You will learn to love this land and its people. I believe you will be a good and virtuous sovereign that will treat her subjects with kindness and prudence, as a mother hen would care for her chicks.”

  The watery green of her eyes pierced my inner being, and my heart ached for her.

  Trying to change the subject, I asked, “How can I be of assistance to you, Your Grace? For what purpose did you summon me here tonight?”

  “You are a man of the cloth. I know that we do not share the same views concerning the sacraments and other things. But can I count on you that you will be faithful to me and stand by me when I need you most? I foresee troubling times ahead for me. I have no intentions of forcing my beliefs on any of my subjects that do not share them. However, I do wish to worship in peace as my conscience sees fit, and I will not have any rebellious clergyman threatening my Catholic subjects and dissuading them from following their convictions as well.”

  “I really don’t think it will come to that…” I started to protest, but this time Mary’s laugh had a sting of reality in it.

  “I have been at court far too long to believe that I can make every person happy, especially when it comes to religious persuasions. People are very passionate about their beliefs, and rightly so. However, I know that I have stepped into a seething pot of boiling parritch here, and I am going to set a lot of people to anger with me. There is no way to avoid it. I just need to know that I can depend on you when the time comes.”

  “Of course, Your Grace. I would do anything for you. You are like a….like a sister to me.”

  She touched my cheek with her hand. “Those words still sting. I don’t know why, but they do.”

  I wasn’t really sure that I understood what she meant, but she dropped her hand to her side and pulled her other hand away from me. Straightening her back she took a deep breath and began again, “As my brother then, I demand that you stay close at hand to me. Do not return to the inn. Stay here at Holyroodhouse with me until you have to return to Glasgow. When do you return?”

  “I promised to be back by the first of October.”

  “Then we have a lot of catching up to do before your departure.” These words were spoken over her shoulder as she walked toward the great house.

  “Aye, indeed, Your Majesty.” I turned to walk the other direction to avoid any flapping tongues spreading tales as to why we may have been in the garden alone together. Yet one burning question gnawed at my stomach, and I was determined to find out the answer.

  “Your Grace, who was the Italian that I met on my way to meet you this evening?”

  Although it was dark, I heard the slight lift in her tone. “His name is David Rizzio. He is a charming gentleman, is he not?”

  “Aye, charming,” I repeated unconvincingly, and then Mary disappeared into the blackness of the evening.

  ~5~

  September 1561

  The nightly dining and me
rry-making went on for at least another month. Although the gatherings did not interest me, I attended out of obligation to Mary. Every night there seemed to be more faces I had never beheld, and some that I wished I would not see again. The Italian, Rizzio, had become a permanent fixture in the court of the queen, and rumors began to spread that he would soon be asked to serve at court. Arran also made himself more noticeable. Whether that was for political or matrimonial reasons remained to be seen.

  I myself began making preparations for my return to Glasgow. It was on one such occasion, as I was finishing up some correspondence with the archbishop, that I received a summons from Mary. She requested that I come forthrightly, so I set the letter aside and dressed myself straightway. It had been days since I had spoken to her privately, and I found myself in haste to see her.

  When I entered her apartments, she ushered out her chambermaids and gave leave to her childhood friends and confidants, the Marys. Although there were four young women named Mary who were chosen as playmates for Mary when we were children, only three were present this morning. I noticed, as I ascertained my surroundings, the absence of Mary Seton. Mary motioned for me to sit, but I waited for her to situate herself in her own seat before taking mine.

  “Thomas, I know you have a commitment in Glasgow and gave your word that you would return by October. I beg of you, please write to the archbishop and inquire as to whether there is a possibility that you may be released from your prior obligation, at the queen’s request. I would write to your superiors myself and demand that you be released from your obligations on my authority alone. But alas, I fear the authority of a Catholic queen holds little influence on the Protestant church here.”

  “I’m not sure I understand. What need does my Catholic queen have for an insignificant Protestant almoner?”

  “My request is binary. I would like for you to stay on in Edinburg and represent the crown in matters of charity and benevolence.”

  “A protestant almoner to a catholic queen?” I asked, unsure how the news would be received.

  “Yes,” she said, definitively. “You are the ideal choice. You can still handle the alms and other charitable giving of your church yet aid me in collections and dispersions of monetary offerings to the crown. The queen’s almoner. The title suits you perfectly.”

  “I’m not sure that it will be received well, but I can try.”

  “You are respected here, Thomas, more than you probably know. I think that you will be a calm bridge over tumultuous waters.” When I did not respond, she continued, “More pressingly, I desire your friendship and counsel on how to handle the Protestant Lords of the Congregation, and that firebrand, John Knox. I have summoned him for an interview. He will be back within a few weeks, and I confess I am in need of guidance in the Protestant thought.”

  “What about your brother?”

  “James is ambitious,” she stated. “I cannot be sure that he will give me unbiased advice.”

  “I see.” I ran my hand over my chin and hesitated before posing my next question. “My lady, why do you trouble yourself with Knox? I know he is persuasive and a bit heavy-handed, but it appears that many of the Protestant lords have rallied around you in the short time you have been here. Do you really think him to be a significant threat?”

  “Absolutely. Surely you’ve heard his sermons against me. He thinks me not ordained by God. He attacks the actions I perform in good conscience at Mass, and I’m not entirely convinced that he wasn’t behind the uprising at my Mass the first Sunday after I arrived in Scotland. He accuses me of horrible sins that I dare not repeat in male company. What on earth he has against dancing and making merry I will never understand! Someone has to liven up this drab and dreary place!”

  She stopped briefly to catch her breath. She was getting herself worked up, and the fire in her eyes as she presented her defense was entertaining. However, I spoke before she could begin her next diatribe in hopes of calming her. “What exactly are your intentions for the Catholic church now that you are here? Have you formulated a plan on how to handle these rebellious Protestants?”

  She caught the lightness of my tone and a smile spread across her face. “If they were all as gentle and sincere as you, I would never have to worry.” She smoothed her skirts before continuing. “I have no intentions of instigating a counter-reformation at this time. I plan to put forth a proclamation assuring our people that I intend to leave their religious activities just as I found them when I returned. I leave it to their own conscience to worship as they see fit. I shall not hinder them.”

  I took a deep breath in relief. Mary was a gentle soul, but I truly had no idea what her intentions were toward the Protestant churches nor how she intended to handle the conflict between their parishioners and the Catholics. “And your Pope does not mind your policies?”

  “I am a sovereign in my own right. I must do what I think is best for my country and my people. Besides, I’ll deal with him later.” A smile curled the corners of her mouth, but I sensed she was still worried.

  “I shall write to my superiors immediately. Nothing would please me more than to be close at hand for you, should you need me.”

  “It means the world to me that you would be willing to give up your ambitions to serve me. I promise you shall still be engaged in the work of God.”

  “If the Almighty wills,” I said, hesitant to accept any promise made on this side of heaven.

  “Of course. And one more request?”

  “There is no injury in asking,” I teased.

  “I would like for you to stay here at Holyroodhouse. Should you be more comfortable and freer to do your work within the walls of your own abode, I will understand.”

  “That is quite all right. I am not of an overly exacting constitution. Lodging here at Holyroodhouse will be acceptable.”

  A smile spread across her face. “I am so pleased. You are the only person that I would even consider for the position.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “And for pity’s sake, stop the formality. You have known me since childhood. Through our letters we have entered into that most sacred of trust. You are practically my own flesh and blood. Please, call me by my given name!”

  “But do you not think that you will set the courtly tongues a-wagging with our familiarity? Such informal speech with a man not of your blood or rank will stir up a raucous amongst the nobles. You must think of—”

  “I do not care what others may think. I know what I feel, and you are one of my nearest and dearest confidants. Please, just call me as I wish.”

  “So be it, Mary.” It was useless to argue with her. She had a great gift of persuasion, and I knew I had fallen prey to her devices.

  “Well then, I must take leave of your presence for the time being. There are other matters I must attend to.”

  “By all means. Do not allow me to be the cause of your delay.” And with that, I bowed and departed. It wasn’t until I was alone that I considered our conversation and what it meant. Staying at Holyroodhouse would definitely change my plans, but now that I’d been able to see Mary face-to-face, I wasn’t sure that I’d have been able to leave at all.

  ***

  A great chaos broke out in the hallway outside of my apartments. I grabbed my candle and flung open my door. To my surprise, I was met by a half a dozen maidens giggling and fluttering through the hallway. Straightway I saw Isobel among them. I seized her arm as she quickly passed me.

  “In the name of all that is holy, what is going on?”

  “Her majesty and the four Marys—” She clutched her chest and gasped for breath between laughs. “They are taking a ride into town.”

  “Is that all? That hardly warrants all of this commotion.”

  Isobel leaned forward, her blue eyes dancing in mischief. “They shall not be accompanied by noble nor knight.”

  “And? I fail to see why that is cause for all of this.” I waved my arm to include the other maidens.

 
The girls looked back at each other and broke out in laughter.

  I was getting impatient. “Isobel? Out with it already.”

  “They have donned the dress of gentlemen and are riding in disguise!”

  Now the maelstrom became clear. Mary had shared with me in a letter or two that this was a favorite pastime of her and her ladies. The French court apparently was not disconcerted by such actions. I worried, though, how the Scots would react to such antics. We were a stauncher, more serious people than the French, and such silliness was generally frowned upon.

  “Where is she now?”

  “Already on horseback. The horses were stripped of their entire royal garb. No one will ever know it is her.” Isobel’s countenance gleamed as if enjoying the very thought of the deception that would be put forth on the town’s people in just a matter of time.

  “Indeed. And you say they have no escorts?”

  “Nay! Her majesty was afraid a male companion might give them away. They wanted to go alone.”

  “These are not like the streets in France. Not everyone here is a gentleman.”

  “Aye. And ye think the French are gentlemen?” she contested.

  She had a point, and for a moment, we held each other’s gaze. “I suppose not,” I finally conceded. Then, with no time to lose, I said, “Well, I bid you a good night, my lady.” I bowed to her then quickly retreated to my room. Tossing my robe upon the bed, I pulled on my breeches and stashed my dagger inside my waistband. I grabbed my coin pouch and my cloak, and then quickly lit a small torch before heading for the stables. I wished Mary wouldn’t get these silly schemes into her head. It’s not safe, I kept reminding myself, as if I needed convincing.

  When I reached the stables, I sought out Hammond, the stable master. I told him I needed something fast and steady, as my mare wasn’t used to riding hard. I knew it was going to take some effort to catch up to them, for they had a good half hour’s lead.