Nigel Tranter - The Courtesan

'She is no longer your poppet, brother – or mine!' David jerked. 'What she has become, I know not. But… she concerns herself with things a deal too high for her – that I do know. Nonetheless, Patrick – she is right in this, I fear. The King will not love you the more for this. And you have made an enemy of the Marischal – when you have enemies enough.'

'The Marischal, Davy, is off to Denmark tomorrow – and by the time that he wins back to Scotland, it will matter not.' The Master, speaking softly, guided his little company into a corner where at least they might not be overheard. 'It was necessary, see you, that I should be received back at Court -and be seen by all to be so received. Before my enemies could know that I was here, and could work against me with the King. James did not summon me to Court – only permitted my temporary return to Scotland – and that reluctantly indeed. For the christening. Tomorrow. So I wore out relays of cousin Logan of Restalrig's horses getting here tonight. I am here before the courier who brought me the King's letter could himself win back! Think you that Maitland and the rest of the Protestant lords would have permitted that I be received? By tomorrow night, I swear, my body would have been floating in the Nor' Loch, rather! And an outlaw, none could be arraigned for my death. But now – I am received, admitted, one of the elect once more! They dare not touch me now – not openly. I have the King's ear, the King's protection… for so long as he needs something that I can give him. One thousand golden guineas! And, he is to pray, more to come! A deal of good money – but cheap at the price, I vow!'

'Cheap…? The price? What price? To you? It is Elizabeth's money…'

The Master's laughter was silvery. 'Why, Davy – I thought that you at least would know our Elizabeth better! That gold was hard-earned – but not from Elizabeth of England. It came from less lofty sources – at no little cost to me. Methinks that she will not deny credit for it one day, nevertheless! Heigho -we cannot have chicken-soup without immersing the chicken! Cheap at the price I esteem it, yes – and moreover have we not achieved a royal godfather for young Andrew! Which also may have its value, one day. But… enough of this whispering in corners. It looks ill, furtive. And I am never furtive, am I – whatever else I am, God help me! I see my lord of Mar eyeing me closely. He grows ever more like a turkey-cock, does Johnnie Mar.' The Master of Gray was of a sudden all smiling gaiety again. 'See – it is a pavane that is being danced. I am partial to the pavane. In good company. Now – which of you ladies will do me the honour…?'

It was at Mary Gray that he looked.

A moment or two later they moved out together to the stately measures of the dance, eyes in their hundreds watching, dazzling satin and humble lawn. Mary Gray danced like a queen.

A bare three weeks after Patrick Gray's dramatic return to Scotland, the country was in a turmoil. The Catholics had risen again. All of Scotland, north of Aberdeen, was said to be in revolt, and the Earls of Huntly and Erroll declaring that they would march south forthwith and would be in the capital to rescue their King in a week or so. The departure of the Earl Marischal for Denmark was said to be the immediate cause of this; he was the Protestant's strong man in the north, and co-lieutenant with Huntly for the King's rule in those vast and unmanageable territories. There appeared to be more than just this in it, however, for the madcap Earl of Bothwell, with the assistance of the turbulent and widespread Border clan of the Homes, had assembled what amounted to an army near Kelso, and threatened to march on Edinburgh from the south should the royal forces move north against Huntly. This was curious, for Bothwell and the Homes were no Catholics. What was their objective in this affair was not clear – though it was assumed that the downfall of Maitland the Chancellor and his friends from their positions of power around the King, must be the aim. There were those in Court and government circles, nevertheless, who did not fail to point out that, equally curiously, the Master of Gray, only two or three days after his son's christening, had disappeared off in the direction of the Borders, ostensibly to visit his disreputable cousin Logan of Restalrig and his aunt, the former Lady Logan, now married to the Lord Home – and had been away for a full week.

However, base suspicions on this score were lulled, if not altogether scotched, when, on word of Bothwell's threat reaching Edinburgh, Patrick, newly returned to town, sought audience of the King – and, strangely enough, of the Chancellor. He urged that a strong and vigorous gesture be made forthwith against the unruly Borderers, whereupon, he vowed, Bothwell would not actually fight. Moreover, he was able, loyally and almost miraculously, to warn King and Chancellor of a nefarious conspiracy to seize their persons, by certain ill-willed folk about the capital – who, when arrested and suitably put to the question, admitted that such had been their aim, and were thereafter satisfactorily hanged. Since James had an almost morbid dread of such plots, and Maitland was a deal more at home with clerkly administration than military action, the Master's advice was taken, if doubtfully, and a force of the levies of Protestant lords in the Lothians hurriedly assembled. And lo, as prophesied, Bothwell's force, which had meantime reached as near as Haddington, seventeen miles from Edin-burg, promptly melted away, shrinking, it was reliably reported, to a mere thirty horse.

Flushed with this demonstration of the value of firm action, the King smiled upon the useful Master of Gray, and called upon all leal lords, the Kirk, and his faithful burghs, to provide him with a sufficiency of armed men to march north to deal with the much more serious threat of the Catholic rising, at the same time issuing a proclamation ordering all men to forsake the service of the Earls of Huntly, Erroll and Bothwell, on pain of treason.

This Catholic threat had indeed cast its shadow elsewhere than on the Court and Capital. Dundee was the nearest large Protestant city south of Aberdeen and of Huntly's domains. When reports of Catholic columns reaching as far south as Bervie and Montrose, and of raiding Gordon bands pouring down the Angus glens, began to reach Dundee, the Provost and magistrates and ministers of the kirk of that God-fearing city perceived the need for drastic action. Walls were hastily repaired, gates strengthened, citizens called up. Dudhope Castle, the town's fortress, was stocked and garrisoned, and a deputation sent hot-foot to call upon the Lord Gray to urge that Broughty Castle, the key to the city from the east and seaward, be likewise garrisoned and put in a state of defensive readiness forthwith.

My lord, in some agitation and with no little reluctance -for his castle of Broughty, for one reason and another, was not in a good state of repair – and the expense of doing what was necessary would undoubtedly fall wholly upon his own pocket – agreed to see what could be done. In no sunny frame of mind, and at the almost feverish pleadings of the Provost and Sir John Scrymgeour, the Hereditary Constable of Dundee, he set off for Broughty, hailing David Gray his steward along with him.

This was the distinctly involved and dramatic situation prevailing when, the very next morning, on a sunny and sparkling July day, the Master of Gray, with his wife and baby son, attended by only two servitors belonging to Marie's father, returned, unexpected and unannounced to his birthplace, onetime home, and presumably future seat of Castle Huntly, after an absence of years – for he had been estranged from his father for long before his trial and banishment. In the absence of my lord and Davy, Mary Gray greeted them, and joyfully, all laughter and delight. She explained that her grandfather and father had been at Broughty Castle since the day before, and it was not known when they would be back. Patrick announced that, much as he would have preferred to stay at Castle Huntly with herself and her mother, it was his father that he had come to see, and as the matter had some urgency, he would ride on to Broughty forthwith. Mary, despite the attractions of cosseting and cherishing the baby Andrew, declared that she also would ride to Broughty with him – her Uncle Patrick nowise objecting. The Lady Marie was glad enough, apparently, to remain with Mariota, having ridden from Megginch that morning.