Chapter 31
1601
“Is that you, Willie Douglas?” I said to the elderly man who opened the door to the little cottage on the shore.
He broke into a smile and bowed deeply.
“So it is you, Marie Seton. I could not believe it when I got your message.”
I smiled. “I have perhaps changed somewhat in the three decades since we last met, Willie.”
He gestured that I go inside. “Please, go in to the fire. I’ll tell your man to go round the back, there’s hay for the horses.”
As he spoke to the young lad I’d employed to accompany me on this journey, I stepped inside the house belonging to the man we knew as Young Willie Douglas all those years ago. An illegitimate cousin of the Earl of Morton, he had been employed as a page at Loch Leven Castle during the Queen’s captivity there from 1567 until the following year. He was the one who had befriended her by smuggling in letters and then ended up rowing the Queen across the loch to the safety of my brother’s awaiting horses. Thankfully, after a few agonising days of waiting, the Earl had let me go to join Her Majesty. Willie was about ten years younger than us, and I hadn’t even thought of him until I’d decided to come here, to Loch Leven, on my way back to Fyvie.
He came back inside and sat in the chair opposite me in this simple stone cottage with one small window looking out over the loch.
“I’m just so sorry my wife’s no longer with us. She would have loved to have met you. I used to bore her with stories of those 141 months I was with you at the castle.”
He went to fetch a jug of ale and poured it into two beakers. “I’m sorry this is probably not what you’re used to,” he said, pointing all around the small room, which had a bed in one corner opposite the fire.
“Oh, life at the convent is not grand, you know, Willie.” I beamed at him. He had aged well, he was a handsome man now at, what must he be – nearly fifty years old. “I am sorry about your wife. Was her death recent?”
He nodded. “Only last year. It still hurts.” He bowed his head and I felt he needed time so I looked out the tiny window across the loch. I could not see the castle from this angle so I got up and went to peer out the window and there it was, off to the right, shrouded in morning mist.
“You said you wanted to get over to the castle, Marie,” he said as I returned to my seat. “That won’t be easy, I’m afraid.”
“I thought you might be able to borrow a boat?”
“Oh, I have a boat, Marie. It’s tied up on the shore down there.” He gestured outside. “That’s not the problem; it’s the keeper on the island. He won’t allow anyone into the castle. I had to bribe him to even go and get something the Countess wanted.”
“Countess?”
“The Countess of Morton. The family lives now at Aberdour Castle but she realised she’d left something at Loch Leven Castle after they all moved out last autumn.”
“Why won’t he permit visitors?”
“Says his Master won’t allow it.”
“And who, pray, is his Master?”
“Lord Fyvie.” He raised his hands in the air. “But of course, he’s your brother’s son, isn’t he?”
“Exactly. So I am sure we can persuade him to let me in.”
He bit his lip. “Might I ask why you want to go there, Marie?” 142
“I feel I know you well enough to tell you, Willie, what the purpose is of me leaving my convent and coming all this way. So, strictly entre nous…”
I proceeded to tell Willie about my concerns for Lilias. As I ended my story, he sat back against his chair and took a deep breath. “Well, that’s some tale, Marie. But that of course might explain why he was so reluctant to let me step ashore – and when I did, he never left my side.”
He scratched his head. “That day I went over, I was rowing back across the loch when I looked back around and was sure I saw something at the top window of the new tower – the Glassin Tower. It was white, maybe shining a bit, sparkling in the light. But then I thought it was maybe just a reflection from the water as it was a sunny day. Now I think about it, I wonder if that’s where she is and if she was trying to attract my attention.”
“So can you take me?”
“Of course I can, but Kenneth’s not an easy man. He’s a second cousin of my late wife and she said that when he was a boy, everyone thought he was just a little simple. Until he started killing things – birds, animals – just for fun, not to eat. He was always sly, always a loner, not a pleasant man at all, sad really. Perhaps that’s why he was given the role of Lady Fyvie’s keeper.” He frowned. “I hope she’s all right.”
I sighed. “It’s my sad conclusion that she is not, Willie. How soon can we go?”
He stood up. “We can go now if you’re ready. But I have to warn you: getting him to let you on the island isn’t going to be easy.”
He looked down, shuffling his feet and said, “Do you have any money spare? That might be the only thing that sways him. I’m sorry to say I haven’t any.”
My shoulders sagged. I had barely enough for this journey. “Don’t worry, Willie, I’ll find a way.” 143
We must have looked a strange sight in that small boat: one tall, elderly nun dressed in grey habit and white wimple sitting opposite a stout, middle-aged man rowing, and in the middle of us stood a massive, shaggy, grey dog. Willie had insisted he get his deerhound from the kennel as, though the huge dog was tame and gentle, and indeed he kept licking Willie’s hand affectionately, he might be useful in trying to persuade the keeper to let us come ashore.
As we approached the castle and I could clearly make out the shape of the tower as the tall ramparts came into view, I felt such a pang of nostalgia. Was it really over thirty years ago that the Queen and I stayed here for eleven months and endured so much trauma? There was not only her miscarriage, but that was also where she heard she had lost the Crown, having been forced to abdicate in favour of the baby prince. We were still young then, but our carefree days of luxury and fun ceased when we arrived there.
“Is that the Glassin Tower?” I asked, pointing to the newer tower we were heading towards.
“Aye, it’s where Her Majesty stayed for the first few weeks, d’you remember? Then they moved her over to the Tower House for safety.” He glanced over his shoulder as he slowed down his rowing strokes. “Any sign of anyone on the shore yet?”
I shook my head and he continued to steer the boat skilfully towards the short wooden pier beneath the tower.
He jumped out and offered me a hand to climb out of the boat and onto the grass. As he secured the rope to a post, I looked up at the high walls and the tower. So many years later, our arrival here was still fresh in my mind. And though she was a captive, the Queen was allowed out once a day to walk over the inner 144 courtyard towards the garden round the back and of course I accompanied her. I felt a pang of sadness as I thought of her, dead now for over thirteen years; it was unbelievable.
I was standing on the grass looking around to the left to try to recall which was the way into the garden, when a coarse voice bellowed, “What d’you think you’re doing landing here, Willie Douglas!”
A short, angry man, of indeterminate age, rushed towards us from the postern gate.
“I told you last time you came. No one’s allowed here.” He stared at me, scowling.
Willie stepped forward, the hound by his side, so that he was between me and the man.
“I’ve brought a special lady over. She is your Master’s aunt, Lady Marie Seton, and has a request.”
Normally I would have insisted Willie should not elevate my rank – I was Sister Marie now – but nothing here was normal. The man, presumably Kenneth, took one step forward and the hound growled, low and threatening.
“Now, Kenneth, will you try to be civil in front of this holy lady and listen to what she has to say.” He nodded at me to speak and I cleared my throat.
“My nephew Alexander Seton’s wife is, I believe, here in this castle and in need of prayers. I have come to pray with her.” I stopped there; I had to establish she was in fact there.
He looked from me to Willie as if choosing carefully what to say. “Did the Master give you permission to visit her?”
So she was here.
“As a prioress, I need no permission to conduct prayers and devotions. If someone wants me to pray with and for them, it is my duty. And I do not answer to my nephew, but only to God.”
The dog pointed his nose straight at the man and the low growl 145 continued. It was obvious Kenneth was scared of him.
“Well, how do I know you are who you say you are?”
“Kenneth! You would doubt a lady who has taken the veil?”
The hideous man narrowed his eyes. “I don’t get paid much for this job. Might there be any financial…”
I stepped forward so I was directly before him. “No, there will be no financial recompense. This is a mission, sanctified by the Almighty. You will show me to Lady Fyvie’s chamber. At once.”
We stood staring at each other, unblinking, while the hound’s growls grew louder. I could see out of the corner of my eye that he had lowered his head as if preparing to pounce.
Kenneth cowered back. “Well, I suppose you can have a short time with her, though there’s little point. She’s…”
“She’s what?”
“You’ll see,” he said, gesturing to the door in the wall. I walked over the grass and turned to hear him say to Willie. “You and the dog can stay right here by the boat.” He let me through the door and I stepped onto the narrow stairway to the right, then heard the outside door slam behind us.