Chapter 25
1601
I have no idea how long I lay on that bed, at first sobbing like a baby, then rigid with fear. I had never, in my entire life, been alone like this. At home when I was growing up, as well as Mama and Papa and my siblings, there were always servants around. At Fyvie, there were the children, occasionally my husband, and a castle full of maids and pages, grooms and cooks. I was perplexed. Why had Alexander brought me here and where was he?
I wrapped the thin blanket around me as the cold January air filled the small room. I looked up at the one tiny unglazed window where I just made out the grey sky and some clouds shifting and changing shape. I could hear nothing, not even birds. Perhaps there were no trees nearby. I must have drifted in and out of sleep, trying to recall in my dreams where I was, before remembering once more, as tears flowed down my cheeks, that I was in a castle, on an island. All alone.
Eventually I sat up, shivering. The fire had gone out and so I dragged myself up to poke at it. I looked around and saw that a candle still burned on the little table. I tried to use it to light the fire, but as I pushed the wick towards the wood the flame went out and I cried once more. I sat down on the chair, head in my hands, in front of the cold fireplace, and wondered what had I done to deserve this.
Then suddenly I heard a noise, a faint sound. Footsteps on the stairs? I didn’t move as the key turned in the lock and the door swung open. That unclean man from earlier stood there, clutching my portmanteau. He elbowed the door shut behind him and 116 came towards me, dropping it down on the floor. Since I felt there was something deeply sinister about him, I looked him up and down, trying to ascertain if he was armed. Seeing nothing apart from that huge heavy ring of keys dangling on his belt, I rose and held my head high. I would not be intimidated by this unkempt servant. And yet, I also felt I should perhaps be cautious.
“Thank you for delivering my luggage. I wonder if you could inform me why I am here? And when my husband is to arrive?”
He headed for the fire and knelt down. I noticed his ragged breeches and scuffed boots.
“Also, if you don’t mind me asking, I presume the Earl and Countess are in residence? For I wonder when I might meet with them? There has obviously been some mistake as to my being here, in this cold, stark room.” I attempted a smile as he picked up the poker and brandished it in his right hand. “Might I also ask when I shall be served some refreshments? I am more than a little hungry.”
He continued to make up the fire, ignoring me all the while. He lit it then turned towards me. He screwed up his eyes and stared directly at me. It was disconcerting.
“Here’s the rules. I will be in once a day to tend to the fire and bring fresh water.” He struggled from his knees to his feet, wincing as if his joints hurt, and headed for the door where he picked up a pitcher of water.
“Apart from you and me, there’s no one else here.” He deposited the jug on the table and lifted the old one.
Then he turned and headed for the door.
“Wait! Please,” I cried. “I don’t understand. Where are the Earl and Countess? Where is my husband?”
He shrugged. “His Lordship and Her Ladyship haven’t been here for months. They live in Aberdour Castle now.” He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “As for Lord Fyvie, well, all I 117 know is what I’ve been told. To keep you here with a fire and water. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
How was this possible? I came towards him and the aroma of unwashed skin and stale clothes hit me. I lifted my shawl to my face, trying to cover my nose. “Did my husband say how long I am to be here?”
“No, he paid me my money and that was that. I’m a caretaker and I’m doing my job. Now I’ll be off. Got plenty to do even though there’s no folk here.”
I was so stunned I could not even speak. I simply watched him trudge towards the door, open it and clang it shut behind him. The next sound I heard was the key turning in the lock and his footsteps disappearing down the stairs.
When I eventually stirred myself from my stupor, I staggered over to the portmanteau. When had that arrived on the island? Had Alexander come over to the castle after me and had I not seen him nor heard the oars in the water? Perhaps when I looked out earlier, the little boat had been hidden from sight on the island shore underneath my window? I dragged the bag over to the bed and sat down, shoulders drooping, and released the clasps.
There were my gowns, all packed by my loyal Jeannie. I pulled them out one after the other. There was the green one, which I had forgotten to remove after she’d insisted on packing it. When I thought of Jeannie, I was glad at least she was back home safely, with the new baby and my beautiful girls. Then I suddenly remembered about the group of servants from Fyvie we had in our company as we rode down here to Fife. Where were they? Surely that horrible man had been lying or was mistaken and they would all arrive soon, as would my husband with an apology and 118 some sort of explanation; there had obviously been a mix up, a complication perhaps. I fervently hoped that, after I’d got into the boat, Alexander and the servants had not been ambushed by vagabonds.
I laid out the green dress on the bed; that would not fit me, I was still far too fat for the tight waist. I pulled out the next two. Both the pink one and the lavender one were perhaps too lightweight for the winter; what was Jeannie thinking of? But the final one, the yellow brocade, was ideal as it was heavy and suitable for the cold. I spread them all out on the bed and delved into the bottom of the bag.
I rummaged around, poking my fingers into the corners and leaning over to see inside. There was nothing else here. The other things I had packed – the writing paper, quill and ink, my needlework and my rosewater – were gone. And then, as the faint light glinted on the ruby ring on the third finger of my right hand, I realised what was also missing: my parure. As I scrabbled around again inside the bag, I knew that someone must have sorted through my luggage and removed all my things apart from my gowns. Who would do that? They had stolen my most precious jewels, given to me by my husband’s aunt. They were my pride and joy, my dazzling royal jewellery; and now they had disappeared.
I could not even begin to consider who had taken them or why. So when a sudden thought came to me, I had to push it far away to the back of my mind, for it was truly too horrific to contemplate. Surely I was not about to spend the rest of my days here in isolation, with hunger and cold, away from my little ones and the rest of my family. I kept trying to think of something else, some reason for this mistake, of why I was here and how I could possibly resolve this dire situation.
But my mind kept rushing back to that first thought and the realisation that Alexander might have deliberately brought me 119 here, to abandon me, forever. Because I could not give him sons, I was to be put away somewhere far away so that he could marry another. And I knew who that other was.