Nigel Tranter - Lord and Master

'It was not my love that I doubted, Patrick – but yours.'

'Mine! But I have told you, assured you…'

Telling is not enough, for me. Nor kissing. Nor that other you propose. Before I many a man, he must put our love before all else. Before his ambition, his freedom, his convenience. He must act as though to be my husband was the greatest project of his life. Perhaps I am foolish and ask too much – but that is the fashion of me. He must earn the right to marry me, Patrick.'

'And have I not earned that right, in all these years? I have known other women, yes – but they meant nothing. Would you have me a celibate, a recluse?'

'No – since it is Patrick Gray that I love, to my cost!' She even smiled faintly there. ''These others – they may mean nothing.

I am prepared to believe that But it is not of them that I speak. The truth is that you have no right to marry anyone, Patrick. You yet have a wife, already. In that fact lies the answer to your questions and my doubts. You still have a wife. In all these years you have taken no step to end your marriage…'

'But that was no marriage – never was, from the first I am as much wed to any women that I have ever held in my arms, as to Elizabeth Lyon.'

'Yet she is still your wife. And her property is still in your grasp! And should her young and weakly brother die, she is the greatest heiress in Scotland! So she is still your wife – and I doubt, Patrick. I doubt'

He stroked his small pointed beard. 'So – that is it! Elizabeth Lyon. For that you have repulsed me, always.'

'For that – and what it signifies of your mind, my dear.'

'Lord, if that is all, then I shall seek an annulment of that piece of folly – my noble father's folly more than my own indeed – forthwith, Marie. I do not require Elizabeth Lyon's wealth, now.'

Again that faint smile. 'Not now? Oh, Patrick – for so clever a man, you are a child yet'

'If I do this, if I end this marriage that is no marriage, will you wed me, Marie? Have I your promise?'

'No, my dear, you have not But come to me a free man, and I shall give you an answer, an honest answer. I hope that it may content both of us.'

He frowned, took a pace away from her, and turning, came back to hold her arm. 'And meantime, my love…?' His voice had become a caress.

'Meantime you may take me to my chamber, Patrick. To the door of it, only. But I hope that one day that door will stand wide open for you. It lies in your hands to make it so.'

'Dear God I' Patrick Gray said 'Come you, then.'

The next night and two days following, the great cavalcade stayed at the Lord Howard of Effingham's magnificent new house of Long Barnton. He had accumulated a vast amount of treasure through the naval activities of the privateers and sea-rovers under his command, against the Spanish plate fleets from the Indies, and no doubt his Queen felt that some attention might not come amiss. Certainly he showed no grudging spirit in her entertainment, far outdoing Burleigh's efforts. The first night there was a notable fireworks display, the next day a pageant in which most of the adjoining town, seemed to take part, that night a mock naval battle on the large artificial lake, with Spanish galleons going up in flames; and the second day a tournament of jousting in which most of the gentlemen took part and in which the Master of Gray particularly distinguished himself. The Queen presented the prizes, and so Patrick must go up to her, with the others, to receive his awards; but it was noticeable that she said but little to him on these occasions and was distinctly cool about it

David grew more and more depressed, even if his brother did not. Sidney, watching it all shrewdly, wondered.

By the end of the week, at Kirby, Sir Christopher Hatton's seat in Northamptonshire, with still no sign of favour from the Queen, David, with Marie, came to his brother just before retiring to bed.

'It will not serve, Patrick,' he declared. 'We shall never have our Queen Mary released thus. Elizabeth will have none of you, or of our mission. Do not say again to give her time. She shows her disfavour of you over-plainly. She will be sending us back to Scotland, with naught accomplished'

'You are too impatient, Davy. Besides, much is accomplished already, I am sure.'

'But not the great thing – not the release of our princess. If we are to free the poor lady, we must use other methods.'

'You think so? What do you suggest?'

'I suggest that we stop profitless asking, and take.'

Patrick turned to stare at his brother. 'Lord, Davy – what is this? What do you mean?'

'I mean that our Queen deserves better of us than that we should only beg proud Elizabeth for her, patiently wait her pleasure, and humbly accept her decision.'

'Instead of which, brother, you would do – what?'

'Lift Mary out of her prison… by either guile or force. Or both.'

'But how, man – how? There have been a hundred plots to that end since she was imprisoned sixteen years ago. Think you that you can succeed where all others failed miserably?

'Me? Should you not say we, Patrick?

'You or we, it makes no difference. Mary is straitly guarded, held fast'

'So was her son, at Ruthven Castle. Yet you planned his escape, from France – and I achieved it, with but a handful of Logan's Borderers.'

'That was quite otherwise, Davy. That was in our own country, where all might be arranged Mary is held fast deep in the centre of this England.'

'We outwitted Catherine's soldiers deep in the centre of France.'

'He is right, Patrick,' Marie put in. 'We must do something.'

'I came to England only to aid our Queen. To see her if I might' David spoke doggedly. 'I'll no' go home without attempting something.'

Patrick looked from one to the other moughtfully. 'You have talked of it together, I see, the two of you. Have you any plan?

'Of a sort, aye. Our Queen, since August, is held at Wingfield Manor, in Derbyshire. On our return journey to Scotland, we can travel that way. Mary goes riding and hawking and hunting under guard of Sir Ralph Sadler and Sir Henry Nevil and their men. I cannot believe that they attend her, on such occasions, with so many men-at-arms as have we as escort'

'But, man, Derby is not on our true road to Scotland. Think you, that if we went that way, towards this Wingfield and not by the direct road, Walsingham and Elizabeth would not know of it within a few hours? little indeed escapes Walsingham's spies. I have no least doubt that we are watched all the time. A large force would be sent after us, forthwith, and Mary confined to her rooms that same night'

'There are gentlemen of Derby in this Court – Lord Fenby, Sir William Soames, and others. It should not be beyond your ability, Patrick, to make friends with one of them – to make excuse to ride north with him, to see his house, or his hawks or his cattle. Or his wife, indeed! Even your fine Sir Philip Sidney has a property near to Chesterfield, I have discovered. He is Walsingham's gudeson – none would suspect if he came with us. Thereafter, we can see that he does not inconvenience our project'

'I would not wish to use a friend so, Davy.'

Brother eyed brother levelly. 'It is a deal better than you used your friend Esme' Stuart!' David declared bluntly. 'Is not your, first loyalty to your Queen, rather than to your new English friends, man?'

Patrick seemed about to answer, frowning, but Marie intervened calmly.

'Better if it was not Sir Philip, perhaps. He has been very kind. But whoever we go with, need not be so hardly used, surely? Only allowed to know nothing of our plans.'

"Plans!' Patrick took hemp. 'What plans can you have?

'Few, as yet,' David answered. 'Until we see this Wingfield, and how it lies. But it will be a strange thing if our wits cannot devise a way to see our Queen once we are near her. You, Patrick, have solved greater problems than this, I swear.1