Moreover, although a shrewd statesman, he was deeply in love with his wife and he knew that she was concerned about the Queen’s plight because she was constantly imploring him to do what he could for Mary.
Maitland believed that he could serve himself best by preventing the accusation of murder being brought against the Queen; and he saw that the man who could be most useful was Norfolk.
He summed up Norfolk immediately: Vain in the extreme, arrogantly aware of his position as premier peer, eager for power, anxious to add another heiress to the three he had already married and from whose estate he had benefited.
“My lord,” said Maitland, “I have come to talk to you in secret. I believe you to be the wisest of your Queen’s Commissioners, and as you are the most highly born I am of the opinion that the plan which I shall suggest may not seem impossible of achievement.”
Norfolk was alert.
“The Queen of Scots is a young woman, who has not yet celebrated her twenty-sixth birthday. She is inclined to frivolity and needs a husband to guide her.”
“I believe you to be right,” answered Norfolk.
“I am sure that there is not another more fitted for the role than yourself.”
Norfolk could not hide his elation. That his secret ambition should be suggested by one of the most powerful Scots might have been astonishing to one less vain. But Norfolk could immediately explain to himself: But it is true. She does need a husband. And who is more suitable to be the husband of a Queen than the premier peer of England?
“The project is not distasteful to Your Grace?” asked Maitland.
“Distasteful! Indeed not. I have seen the Queen and thought her most comely. And I agree with you that she is in need of a husband to look after her. She is delightfully feminine . . . and, you say, she is inclined to frivolity . . . in urgent need of a guiding hand.”
“Let this matter remain a secret for a while,” suggested Maitland, “but I would have you know that I shall do all in my power to further it.”
Norfolk nodded. “I shall not forget your friendship,” he said a trifle pompously. “There is of course . . . Bothwell.”
“There would be no difficulty about that. A divorce could be arranged. There are many who believe that the marriage was no true marriage.”
“And the Queen?”
“Will be ready enough to rid herself of Bothwell forever at the prospect of marriage with Your Grace.”
“You believe this to be so?” Norfolk was smiling; he believed it wholeheartedly. His sister Margaret had told him frequently that Mary enjoyed talking to him, and had asked many questions about him. With Margaret to help him at Bolton, and Maitland of Lethington secretly in favor of the match, what could prevent it?
“I do indeed. I believe too that we should proceed with care in this inquiry. It would be well if the case brought against the Queen were merely her hasty and unseemly marriage with Bothwell. I do not think it would be wise to continue with this charge of murder. If the Queen’s innocence were not proved it could well be that the Scottish right to succession might be endangered, and that could of course be harmful to the Queen’s future.”
“I see that you are right in this,” replied Norfolk readily.
Maitland smiled. “We must work together in this matter, Your Grace, and, I repeat, in secret. Others may not see the great good which could come of the success of this plan.”
Norfolk smiled his agreement.
He was well pleased.
MAITLAND ’S NEXT TASK was to see Moray.
“I have sounded Norfolk on a possible marriage to your sister,” he said.
“And the young coxcomb is delighted at the prospect of being husband to a Queen?”
“That is so. And a good prospect it is, for it provides a solution to our problems. Married to Norfolk she would reside in England and it would be necessary to appoint a Deputy to take charge of matters in Scotland.”
Speculation was in Moray’s eyes.
It was a way out. He was determined to cling to his position of Regent; but he did need peace in Scotland. While the Queen was a prisoner in England there would be factions in her favor springing up throughout the length and breadth of Scotland. But if she were kept out of the way through marriage, that would be a different matter.
“It would be necessary to suppress the more vile charges against her,” said Maitland.
Moray was disappointed. He had looked forward to the wide circulation of those “casket” letters.
“Norfolk could scarcely marry a murderess, even though she is a Queen,” insisted Maitland.
Moray was thoughtful. There was a great deal in what Maitland suggested.
LADY SCROPE was beside herself with excitement. She had heard from her brother that certain of the Scottish lairds were in favor of his marriage with Mary. In that case she believed there could not fail to be success.
She was preoccupied with thoughts of the coming child; and Mary, although being with Lady Scrope reminded her poignantly of her own little James whom she had lost, threw herself wholeheartedly into the plans for the new baby.
She was with Lady Scrope in the nursery, inspecting the cradle, the clothes which were being prepared, and listening to details of preparations which were being made for the lying-in, when Margaret whispered: “Who knows, perhaps ere long Your Majesty will be making similar preparations.”
“Ah, who can say,” replied the Queen; and she thought of those months when she had been expecting James. What sad, violent months they had been! She remembered sitting at the supper table, with David Rizzio singing and paying his lute . . . and how his murderers had stormed into the room and dragged him from her side to plunge their knives into his quivering body. Poor David! And that had happened during the months of waiting for little James!
But how different it would be to wait in serenity as Margaret Scrope waited . . . thinking of nothing but the coming of the child and the possible romance of her brother and a captive Queen.
Yes, such serenity was enviable. Would it ever be her lot? she wondered. And wondering she found a yearning within her. She was weary of her loneliness. If this marriage ever came about she would welcome it.
A servant came to them and announced that Lord Herries wished to see the Queen immediately.
“It is news of the Conference,” said Mary to Margaret. And to one of the servant: “Bring him to me without delay.”
One look at Herries’ face told Mary that he was far from pleased.
“What news, my lord?” she demanded.
“It is simply this, Your Majesty. The Queen of England is not pleased with the manner in which the Conference has gone at York, and she is disbanding it. There is to be a second, which will take place next month at Westminster.”
“I see,” said Mary slowly.
“She is not pleased that those vile accusations were withheld, I fear,” said Herries.
Mary’s eyes narrowed. “If there is to be a conference at Westminster,” she said, “and accusations are to be made against me, I wish to go in person to answer them.”
Herries did not reply, but continued to look sadly at his mistress.
SIR FRANCIS KNOLLYS found the Queen taking exercise in the ground of the castle, and asked if he might join her. She gave him her gracious permission and told him that he was looking a little anxious lately.
“My wife is ill,” he said. “I am worried about her.”
Mary was immediately all concern.