XXVII    

WONDERFUL! Wonderful!’ Effie clapped her hands in delight. ‘You will be the Duchess of Glasgow and mistress of Naughton Castle after all!’

‘That depends on one thing and one thing alone,’ Marie said.

‘And he is such a handsome young laddie. Such fair hair and blue eyes I have never witnessed in my whole life—’

‘Mother, will you listen to me,’ Marie broke in, her voice loud and harsh. ‘Everything can very easily be ruined. My life, my happiness …’

‘Foolish lassie, what could possibly go wrong. He has asked you to be his wife.’

‘You could ruin everything, mother. I have nightmares about it. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

‘Oh tuts. Do you mean that unfortunate business again? It was an age ago. Everybody has forgotten about it long since.’

‘He was Gavin’s father. Gavin McNaughton hasn’t forgotten.’

‘Well, that may be so, but what does it matter now?’

‘What does it matter?’ Marie echoed incredulously. ‘Mother, are you mad? Of course it matters. This is exactly what worries me. Your carelessness in what you say and do. You must never, ever, breathe one word about what happened that night, to anyone, not to a living soul, do you hear?’

‘My dear lassie, have I said one word to anyone in all these years?’

‘Maybe not …’ Marie admitted, in a worried and uncertain tone.

‘I may be a little foolish at times, Marie, but I’m not mad. I will not do or say anything, I promise you, that will injure our standing at Court. Especially with our dear Queen who has taken such a liking to me.’

It was true that the Queen was thoroughly enjoying Effie’s cheerful company. Not so much for her good cheer and capacity for merrymaking, Marie suspected, as her mother’s expert knowledge of all forms of gambling. Gambling was an obsession with the Scottish nobility.

‘Do you swear to me … will you swear on the Bible … ?’

‘Of course, of course, but why such a fuss? Now let us try to forget all this nonsense and talk about your marriage. There is so much to prepare. The Queen and I will have a wonderful time planning the wedding. She is such a dear, generous girl, and no expense will be spared. She is sure to dig very deeply into the royal purse for her Marie. Do you know what she told me the other day…?’

Marie allowed her mother to chatter on about dresses, and all sorts of other nonsense. Meanwhile, her mind turned to more important matters. She was glad that the child she carried would have its chance of legitimacy, as the legal heir of Naughton Castle. In due course, he would inherit the dukedom and all the lands that went with it. Secure in that knowledge, she eagerly anticipated welcoming Gavin back to Edinburgh. Yet she still feared what the Earl of Edinburgh might do or say. She had avoided him as much as possible since his return, but she had not forgotten his threats. She prayed that her pregnancy would cause him to show mercy towards her. And it seemed her prayers were answered.

As soon as the Duke of Glasgow returned, he sought an audience with the Queen. Marie stood at his side, while the Earl of Edinburgh looked on in stony silence. He was as usual flamboyantly and fashionably dressed in a massive blue and gold doublet and slashed satin and fur cape. Gavin was dressed in elegant black and white. Marie, wearing a floating gown appropriate to her pregnancy, made a formal curtsy to the Queen. The Duke gave a deep bow, and thanked her for allowing him to return to Holyrood once more.

Later, Gavin and the Queen spoke of Bothwell, whose fortunes had once more taken a turn for the worse. He had been shipwrecked while en route to France, and taken prisoner by the English.

‘He has now been confined in the castle of Tynemouth, until the Privy Council decide what to do with him. I fear for his life, your Majesty. If only something could be done to help him. Despite your differences, he has served you well in the past.’

The Queen nodded.

‘I will give the matter serious thought, and in due course, I will discuss it with my advisors. But I think it will be difficult to offer him any help.’

As he listened to all this, Guthrie Jamieson wished it had been Gavin McNaughton who was languishing in an English dungeon once more. What had once been a mild dislike for the Duke had now turned to burning hatred. But just then an idea struck him. Perhaps McNaughton’s loyalty to Bothwell could provide Jamieson with the means of bringing about the downfall of the gallant Duke of Glasgow.

A plan began to take shape in his head, and he consoled himself with the thought that soon enough he would be rid of Gavin McNaughton for good. Then he would finally claim Marie for himself.

In no time at all, the day of Marie’s wedding to the Duke of Glasgow had arrived. A most excellent musician called David Rizzio had recently joined the Court, and he and the other Court musicians were to provide the entertainment. Rizzio could both sing and play the lute and although he was an ugly man, small and hunched, his Latin love of fine clothing made him stand out in a crowd. Few could have guessed then what tragedy lay in store for the Queen and her new musician.

Among Marie’s wedding gifts from the Queen was a sparkling diamond necklace to wear with the bridal dress. To the bridegroom the Queen had given a jewelled sword and an outfit glistening with gold buckles and silk embroidery.

Not to be outdone at the wedding, Effie wore her hair dyed chestnut and spangled with jewels. She had painted her face and plucked her eyebrows. Her dress was a nest of gauze over scarlet taffeta pinned at the neck and breast with a plethora of different coloured brooches. A pair of long earrings waggled continuously as she spoke. At the wedding feast she sat next to the Earl of Edinburgh and it was he who had to listen to her frivolous chatter. As they drank many toasts, the Earl managed to retain his look of polite interest, a feat that gained him much praise and sympathy from the other guests. For their part, they would have long since strangled the awful woman if they had been trapped in his unfortunate position.

Marie had seen Effie behave in this way so often it did not unduly surprise or trouble her, and she was grateful to Jamieson for containing Effie’s behaviour rather than allowing it to encompass the whole table. Before long, two of Effie’s maids had to be called to help her from the table and lead her, none too steadily, away to her bedchamber.

She was very annoyed to have missed the dancing but as Marie told her next day, she had hardly been able to walk from the banquet hall.

Effie had just laughed at this revelation. She had no memory of it and would not have cared even if she had.

‘The difference between you and me,’ she told Marie, ‘is that I know how to enjoy life and you don’t.’

‘We certainly have different ideas of what is enjoyable,’ Marie said.

As the dancing continued, Marie tried her best to keep away from Guthrie Jamieson. But he was determined to dance with her. As they danced he said,

‘This marriage will never last, Marie.’

‘You don’t know what you are talking about, Guthrie. You are jealous of Gavin,’ she retorted.

‘You know it’s me you really want. Perhaps I should ask your husband if he is sure the child you carry is his? Or maybe I could tell him one of our other little secrets?’

‘You wouldn’t dare! It would finish you as well.’

‘Maybe the price would be worth paying, just to see his face when he discovered the truth about his precious Marie.’

‘Guthrie!’ she pleaded, ‘this has to stop! I do not love you. Maybe once … but not any more. It’s Gavin I love, and I only want to be a good wife to him.’

‘You must do as you see fit. But consider this: perhaps you don’t know him as well as you think you do…’

‘What do you mean?’

‘One day you will see. And when you do, you will beg me to have you back.’

‘Never!’ Marie said bitterly, with tears in her eyes, as she turned and walked quickly away before the music had stopped.