The Captive Queen of Scots - Plaidy Jean (читать книги онлайн бесплатно без сокращение бесплатно txt) 📗

When he came to her presence she said: “I called you because, although it may seem strange to you, I am grateful to you. You have been appointed commander of this garrison which keeps me prisoner, but I do not hold that against you because in your dealings with me you have always been kindly and respectful.”

Drysdale bowed; he was a little under the spell of the Queen and he often regretted that his duty made it necessary for him to have her watched so closely.

“I want to reward you with a small gift. It is not as much as I would wish but, as you doubtless know, many of my possessions have been taken from me.”

“Your Majesty is good to her humble servant.”

“I have no money here, but if you will take this draft to my state treasurer in Edinburgh he will honor it. And I have a list here of articles of which I am in dire need. Good Master Drysdale, would you please bring these to me with as much speed as you can muster?”

Drysdale’s eyes gleamed. It was pleasant to have the money and do a service to this beautiful woman at the same time.

He bowed. “Your Majesty can rest assured that I shall do my utmost to bring you what you desire as quickly as possible. And I thank you for your kindness to your servant.”

Mary gave him a dazzling smile and he bowed himself from her presence.

She was delighted less than an hour later to hear him giving orders to his men, and from her windows she saw him rowing across the lake to the mainland. Will Drysdale had left for Edinburgh, and he would consequently be absent from Lochleven for some little time.

Willie too had seen the departure of Will Drysdale and heard from some of the men that their commander was making a trip to Edinburgh.

The boatmen incapacitated; the commander absent from the castle; assuredly the moment had come.

But how make Sir William so bemused by wine that his keys could be stolen from him? That was the question.

SIR WILLIAM WAS dozing in his chair. He had eaten well and the sun was warm. In his pocket were the keys of the castle; even though the guards were on duty he kept one hand on them as he slept.

“Sir William?”

He opened his eyes; Willie was standing before him.

“What is it?” asked Sir William.

“Sir William, I want your permission to give a feast.”

“What!” cried Sir William.

“To everyone in the castle . . . everyone,” explained Willie. “I’ve been away and now I’m home again. It is something I rejoice in, and I would have everyone rejoice with me.”

Sir William’s mouth twitched slightly. In spite of an effort to repress his feelings he could never quite do so where this boy was concerned, and he was secretly delighted to know that he was back in the castle. The page who had waited on him at table was a clumsy oaf, he always said; he was more critical of him than he might have been because he missed Willie.

Now he said: “You give a feast? How would you manage that?”

“I have money, Sir William. George gave it to me when he said goodbye.”

“And when do you propose to have this feast?”

“Today.”

“On a Sunday!”

“A good day for a good deed,” said Willie raising his eyes piously. “I have already had meat and vegetables brought from Kinross, and with them several bottles of good wine which would not offend even your palate.”

“And suppose I give you permission to hold this feast, whom will you ask? The Queen, I suppose.”

“I shall ask everyone, Sir William. The Queen, Sir William, Lady Douglas . . . everyone who cares to come. It is to be a banquet equal to that which the Queen has enjoyed at Court, and I shall be the Lord of Misrule.”

Sir William burst out laughing. “And Willie Douglas will do all this?”

“Willie Douglas will.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Then I must prove it!” Willie stood back a few paces and bowed low.

“I thank you, Sir William, for your permission. I offer you a formal invitation to Willie Douglas’s feast.”

Sir William was laughing.

It’s good, he thought, to have the young rogue back in the castle.

THE FEAST TOOK PLACE in the early afternoon. Mary was present; so were Sir William and Lady Douglas; in fact all who could be spared from their posts were at the great table. Willie presided, plying his guests with wine; aping the manners of the nobility in such a manner that he had the entire company laughing at him. He minced about the room; he gave orders in arrogant tones; he was gallant to the ladies, his freckled face wrinkled in simpering admiration; and all the time his alert eyes were on Sir William, who kept his keys in his pocket and, although he drank heavily and complimented Willie on his good wine, was none the worse for the amount he took.

Willie was also watching the Queen. He was eager to get a message through to her. He wanted her to be ready to leave during supper this evening. He knew that she was expecting some signal, but how difficult it was when he could not find an opportunity to have a word with her.

The company was becoming drowsy and the feasting could not be prolonged, so Willie suddenly announced that he was going to take advantage of his position as Lord of Misrule. Picking up a green branch which he had acquired for the occasion he approached the Queen.

“I am the Lord of Misrule,” he chanted. “I touch you with my rod. This day you must follow me whither I command.”

Mary answered: “Lord of Misrule, this day I will follow you wherever you lead me.”

Willie danced into the center of the room and beckoned the Queen, who rose from her chair and made to follow him.

Willie tripped from the room, with Mary behind him.

When they were outside, Willie turned and whispered: “It must be during supper tonight. Be watchful.”

“Willie . . . are you sure?”

Willie shook his head and laid his fingers on his lips. Lady Douglas was coming toward them.

“I’m a little weary after the revelry,” said the Queen. “I think I will rest awhile.”

Lady Douglas’s eyes were alert. She had not forgotten the part Willie had played in the laundress scheme. “I will accompany Your Majesty,” she said.

Willie returned to his guests while Lady Douglas went with the Queen to her own apartments.

Mary lay on her bed; she was too tense to feel tired; she closed her eyes, pretending to sleep, and Lady Douglas seated herself by her bed. It was clear that she did not trust Willie and had been made suspicious by the feast. Mary knew that Willie had hoped to lure all the guards to the feast and during it manage to steal the keys: he had been disappointed in that, and all he seemed to have done was arouse suspicion.

Lady Douglas bent over the bed to see if she were asleep, and Mary gave no sign that she was aware of this. She heard Lady Douglas sigh deeply and go to the door.

Someone said: “My lady, I felt I should tell you without delay.”

“What is it?”

“My lord Seton was seen close to the lake on the mainland. He rode by with a party of horsemen.”

“Was that so?”

“I thought I should tell you.”

Mary did not recognize the voice which was speaking, but she guessed it to be that of one of the kitchen maids.

“You did right.”

“And, my lady, it is said that Master George has not gone to France, but is with my lord Seton in Kinross.”

“Is that so?” said Lady Douglas slowly. “Then . . . off with you. You will awaken the Queen.”

Mary’s heart was beating so fast that she was afraid Lady Douglas would notice. But the older woman gave no sign of this and returning to the bed continued to sit beside it. It seemed a long time before she rose and went to her own apartments.

THE AFTERNOON was coming to its close when Mary rose from her bed and declared that she was rested from Willie’s revelry and would take a walk. She put on a cloak and went out of the castle in the company of Seton.