Royal Road to Fotheringhay: The Story of Mary, Queen of Scots by Jean Plaidy

Royal Road to Fotheringhay: The Story of Mary, Queen of Scots by Jean Plaidy

Author:Jean Plaidy [Plaidy, Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical
ISBN: 9780609810231
Publisher: Crown Publishing Group
Published: 1964-01-02T00:00:00+00:00


HE CAME INTO her presence, arrogant as ever; and she was conscious of his veiled insolence.

“My lord Bothwell, you have been guilty of an outrage. You have broken into the house of peaceful citizens and caused much distress. I know that you were not alone. You had two companions. One is a guest in this kingdom—my own guest; the other is a young and impressionable boy. Therefore I hold you responsible for this disturbance.”

“Would you not cast a little blame on the Hamiltons, Madam?”

“From what I hear the trouble started when you forced an entry into a house in St. Mary’s Wynd.”

“The trouble started long before that, Madam. If you wish for an account of the scores I have to settle with Arran, I shall be pleased to give it.”

Mary waved her hand impatiently. “Please … I beg of you… tell me no more. I am tired of your perpetual bickering. You are dismissed the Court. Go back to the Border. Go anywhere, and if you are not soon gone I shall be forced to make your punishment more drastic.”

“Madam,” began Bothwell, “I appeal to your sense of justice. If you feel I have done aught to deserve blame, then must you cast some blame on Arran. Let me meet him in single combat and settle our affairs thus.”

“No, my lord,” she said sternly, “there shall be no more bloodshed if I can prevent it.”

She looked up into his face helplessly. Her glance clearly said: What can I do? How can I punish Arran with his father, Châtelherault, and the whole Hamilton clan behind him—to say nothing of his supporter John Knox? Go away. If you must fight, fight the English on the Border. I want Scotland left in peace.

“Leave the Court,” she said. “Go at once.” She smiled suddenly. “You will have many preparations to make for your sisters wedding.”

His smile answered hers.

He would retire from Court; he would proceed with his preparations for his sisters wedding; and when the Queen’s brother became his brother-in-law, he would be better fitted to pit himself against Lord James and the whole Hamilton clan.

“My sister,” he said, “will be a sad woman if Your Majesty does not honor us at Crichton with your presence.”

The Queen was still smiling. So he was going. He was not going to plunge into one of those Knox-like arguments which distressed her. “Of a certainty I shall wish to be present at my brother’s wedding,” she told him.



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