Nigel Tranter - The Wisest Fool

"Well-I have warned you, friend. If he turns and rends you, one day, as he has done myself, Balmerino and others-aye, and will do Dunbar likewise, I warrant you-recollect my warning!"

"I thank you. But, since warnings are to the fore, may I do the same by your lordship? King James knows more of your activities and plans than perhaps you think. And if he feels his realm and throne endangered thereby could strike quite ruthlessly. And, it may be, unexpectedly."

"That I have known for years, sir. I seek ever to take my precautions. But… so should he! Since you love him, tell him so! But-I thank you for your consideration on my behalf. We will go our several ways, Master Geordie, doing what we consider best for this strange realm of ours. Credit me with some devotion to it, likewise! Now-I have monopolised my host overlong. My apologies!" And with a smile that was kindness itself, he strolled away.

Heriot was stroking his little beard very thoughtfully when Mary Gray came to him. "I have been watching the pair of you, Geordie," she informed him, "talking so earnestly. When Patrick is so attentive, he usually has a reason." "We were warning each other," the man told her, briefly. "That sounds… direful?"

"I pray that it will not be. For either of us." He smiled. "And you? This is no occasion for such talk. Have you had enough of fireworks?"

"They are very fine. But, yes-I think I have had sufficient of entertainment Excellent as it is, Geordie. And, see you-there's another who has. I vow!" And she pointed to where Alison, young Johnnie Stewart-not so very far apart in years-and some of the Primrose family were grouped. 'Take her away, Geordie. She has had a long day and lived it to the full. But the best of it is still to come, is it not? So be it she is not so wearied as to be unable to savour it properly!"

"M'mmm. You think…? But there is still the dancing. And I am host…"

"Not so. You are the bridegroom. Have you forgot? I say, forget you are the so responsible George Heriot, for once. You may be paying for all this-but is not the bride's father truly the host? Let James Primrose play his part in this, at least. Slip away, Geordie dear-while you may." "While I may…?"

'Yes. Johnnie tells me that some of the young ones are planning a bedding for you! It may be the custom, but I do not think that either of you would want that…"

"By God-no!" he cried, all indecision swept away. "I thank you. I will speak with her. At once…"

So, Alison far from unwilling, they did slip away unnoticed into the shadows of the pleasance-or hoped they were unnoticed.

They could have used almost any of the innumerable rooms of the main palace as bridal chamber, but Heriot was quite content with his own old quarters in the northern conventual wing, and Alison had found no fault. Thither they hurried, and with relief the man shut the outer door behind them, and bolted it

"Any bedding done tonight we will do without assistance!" he announced grimly.

Her tinkle of laughter did not sound in the least jaded or weary. "I am sure that you are entirely the expert, Geordie I" she said. He looked somewhat less sure of himself, at that.

And upstairs, faced with the great bed, all ready, and the log fire and candles flickering, they both were constrained to pause a little. Heriot, however, had thought of this, and proceeded to tell the story of his arrival here from London all those years ago, before ever they had met, to be confronted with the large white and active limbs and person of an unknown lady, plus Patrick, Lord Lindores, the Lady Marie's brother-in-law, in this same bed. If the tale was just slightly stilted at the start, he warmed to the telling and before he was finished, they were sitting on the said bed in high hilarity, all tension evaporated. Indeed, the story was never finished, for presently the girl had closed the teller's lips with her own, and, almost of their own volition, his hands were busy unclasping, unhooking and detaching her finery-a process at which Alison began to assist enthusiastically, until she changed tactics, to start on him.

He exercised his mastery, however, declaring that one thing at a time was good policy and dutifully she acceded. And, in a little she desisted in her efforts altogether, to give him the satisfaction of removing those last silken garments. Then she stood up slowly, stood back from him, deliberately, opening her arms wide, palms cupped towards him, in a gesture of proud offering and humble giving, both, in all her heart-breaking young loveliness.

George Heriot actually groaned aloud in the extremity of his emotion, delight, joy. Down forward on his knees he sank, to reach out and clasp her white and slender, but sufficiently rounded form about the middle, and to press his brow and lips against her warm, satin-smooth but firm flesh below the small, vigorously-pointed breasts.

"My love, my heart," he whispered. "You are beautiful, beautiful! No man has ever looked on fairer. For long… so long… I have wanted you. Wanted you thus. Aye, thus and thus and thus!"

"Oh, Geordie, my dear, I am glad, glad!" she exclaimed into his hah. "I feared… for long I feared… that your need was not so great… as is mine! Lord be thanked… for this!"

He shook his head against her skin-and the doing of it so affected his lips as to set them trembling, wordless quite.

"Oh-up, Geordie! Up!" Alison cried. "Quickly, I say. We have waited… long enough!" He rose, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

GEORGE HERIOT would not have chosen to present his new wife at Court quite so soon after their return to London, with much settling in to do at the Exchange premises, the house above the shop to be remodelled and refurbished to a woman's taste, and no urgent desire on the part of either of them for haste in seeking royal recognition-especially as the Queen was said to be in low health and spirits, suffering from arthritis and money troubles and James spending much time away at Carr's new property of Sherborne, in Dorset But it so happened that Will Shakespeare's new Scots play was now finished and was to have its first showing, naturally before the monarch, at Hampton Court, only four days after their arrival. Needless to say, they both were anxious to see this. Moreover, a summons to attend was awaiting Heriot from James-though no reference was made to his wife. He was not going without her, however-and Alison agreed that putting off the confrontation with the Queen was unlikely to achieve anything. Hampton Court Palace, thirteen miles up the Thames from Whitehall, was neither one thing nor another, as far as James was concerned-not conveniently at the centre of London life, nor yet sufficiently far away to be a useful country house capable of providing the sort of hunting facilities his health was alleged to require. A vast place, built by the unfortunate Cardinal Wolsey and handed over to Henry the Eighth in 1526, James had given it to his children, Henry, Elizabeth and Charles, who ran wild amongst its honeycomb of rooms and corridors to their hearts' content-and thus largely kept out from under their father's feet. But it did provide a suitable venue for sundry large-scale activities, where the King and Queen could associate as it were on more or less neutral ground, since it was not officially the Queen's house, although she visited there much. They now lived almost entirely separate lives. So Heriot and Alison hired a pinnace to take them upriver the dozen miles on a golden September afternoon, amidst a vast deal of other traffic going the same way, a cheerful journey, with the watermen shouting scurrilities at each other, impromptu races, and humble lightermen refusing to get out of the way of great lords' barges and young bloods' wherries. At the riverside palace amongst its terraced gardens, Heriot as usual sought out the Duke of Lennox whom he had heard was now back from the Continent. Ludovick was delighted to see them, made much of Alison, assured them of quarters for the night-but suggested that it might be unwise to seek audience of either James or Anne meantime, for they were having a major quarrel-ostensibly over the old trouble of finance, but all knew that it was really over the insufferable Carr. It was strange how the Queen had shrugged off the succession of earlier favourites but balked so at this one. Later, after the performance, would be the time to see the King. And it would be injudicious to approach Anne, anyway, before Alison had been received by James.