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There were tears in her eyes and they fell on the paper.
Will this night never end? she asked herself. She looked at the man in the bed, and she thought of the man whom she loved, and she murmured: “It were better if I had never been born, better I had died long ago when a child, and so many thought I should, than that I should come to this.”
THEY LEFT Glasgow next day.
“Are we going to Holyroodhouse or the Castle?” asked Darnley.
“To neither,” she answered him. “In your state it would not be good to stay at either place. You are sick of a disease which many fear. I have had a house prepared for you, and there you shall rest until you are well enough to come to me at the palace.”
“And share your apartments,” he reminded her.
“And share my apartments,” she repeated.
“Bed and board,” he said, smiling. “Where is this house?”
“It is one of those on the southern slope of the city. You know the ruins of the Church of St. Mary. There are several houses there, and this one belongs to Robert Balfour. He has lent it to us that you may rest there until you are well enough to come to the palace.”
Darnley frowned. “Among all those worn-out and ruined houses! You would mean Kirk-o’-Field, would you not?”
“Kirk-o’-Field, yes. Close to the ruin of St. Mary’s.”
“It is an odd place to which to take me.”
“It is near Holyrood, and for that reason it seems suitable. It is an old house, it is true, but we have furnished your apartment royally. When you are within and see the bed I have had set there for you, and the rich hangings I have had put up, you will agree that you are as comfortably housed as in your fathers castle.”
“And you… will you be at this house in Kirk-o’-Field?”
“I shall have my bed taken there. I shall sleep in the room below yours, so you will not be lonely. Your man Taylor and a few others will be with you. And I shall be there too.”
He nodded. “But Kirk-o’-Field! A dismal place!”
“Only outside. Inside it will be as a palace furnished for a king.”
As they came into Edinburgh and Darnley saw the dismal surroundings of the house which had been chosen for him he was uneasy. He looked with distaste at the house itself which had been lent by Robert Balfour, the Provost of Kirk-o’-Field and brother to Sir James. It was a house of two stories. There was a spiral staircase in a turret by means of which it was possible to enter the lower chamber and the upper through two small lobbies. On each of the two floors there were a few rooms which were more like cupboards than rooms—these were the garderobes and here the servants would sleep. Sliding panels acted as doors for these garderobes. The house had been built over an arched crypt.
“Such a spot!” he said, “For a king! Ruins all about me and a view of Thieves’ Row from the window!”
“Wait until you see your apartment.” She showed him the lower chamber in which was her velvet state bed. “This is where I shall sleep. I shall be immediately below you. Let me show you your apartment and then food shall be brought.”
He was cheered when he saw his apartment. It was decorated with tapestry and velvet hangings which had been taken from the Earl of Huntley at the time of his disgrace, as had the magnificent bed and most of the furnishings. Darnley could not complain of these.
He lay exhausted on the bed and thought of the future. He believed he had acted wisely in becoming reconciled to the Queen and in showing his trust in her. He would emerge from this sickness a handsome young man again; he would be the Queen’s adored husband. He only had to lie in bed and recover his strength and his handsome appearance. Then all that he desired would be his.
MARY HAD SLEPT in the velvet state bed at the house in Kirk-o’-Field on Tuesday and Friday of that week. On the Friday, late at night, she had heard the sounds of stealthy footsteps close to the house. She had not awakened Lady Reres who had been her companion since she had gone with her to the Exchequer House, but had crept to the window. She had seen French Paris and some of James Balfour’s men opening the door of the crypt and carrying in something bulky. She shuddered and went back to bed, wondering what the men were doing.
On the following day when she returned to Holyroodhouse, she had a few moments alone with Bothwell. He had taken her into his fierce embrace.
He said: “’Tis a fine bed you have there in Kirk-o’-Field.”
She looked at him wonderingly. “I saw it,” he told her. “I have keys to all doors. A fine velvet bed. I have a fancy for that. We’ll share it on our wedding night. Have it brought from the house tomorrow and a less fine one put in its place.”
“Why… tomorrow?” she asked.
“Because I ask it, and because you will do anything in the world to please me.”
DARNLEY SAID: “Why are they taking away your velvet bed?” “It is too fine for such a room as the one below this.” “Yet… to take it away… after you took such pains to have it brought here!”
“I wish it to be cleaned and prepared.”
“Prepared?”
“For our reconciliation.”
He was smiling. “It shall be our bridal bed, for it shall be as though we are newly married. You will be here tonight, Mary?”
“I shall come to see you tonight, but I shall have to return to Holyrood as there is a wedding which I am expected to attend. Bastian is marrying Margaret Carwood. You know how fond I am of Margaret—and of Bastian. I promised Margaret I would dance at her wedding and that I would see that hers was a fine one.”
“Would that I could dance at Margaret’s wedding!”
“There was a time when you would have scorned to dance at a servants wedding.”
“I was so young. I was overproud! And look to what my folly has brought me!”
She turned away because she knew that if she tried to say more the words would choke her.
After a pause he said: “This is a strange house. Do you think it is haunted? I hear footsteps. I fancy I hear whispers. There are strange noises in the night. In the crypt, it may be. I seem to hear these sounds.”
“This is such a small house that you would naturally hear noises from without.”
“Perhaps that is it. Mary, I think much of the velvet bed.”
“Yes,” she said faintly, “the velvet bed.”
“You shall see that I have changed. I was so young, Mary, and the honor done to me was too much. You … so beautiful… so desired by all, and to be so much in love with me as you were! And then to be the King. Remember my youth. Why do you weep, Mary? Is it for the past?”
She nodded, and she thought: For the past, for the present, for the future.
ROBERT STUART, Mary’s baseborn brother, had come to see his kinsman Darnley. Robert was in a quandary. The Stuart characteristics were strong in him, and the Stuarts, if they were often weak and foolish, hated cruelty and were overwhelmingly tender and generous to their friends.
Robert was disturbed. He had heard rumors and the rumors concerned Darnley.
Why, Robert asked himself, should Darnley have been brought to a house such as this? Darnley was a fool not to see the reason. There was a plot against him and his enemies were all around him. Even the Queen hated him and wanted to be rid of him. Why could not Darnley see what was so clear to others?
“You seem disturbed,” said Darnley.
“I am,” retorted Robert. “Are you not?”
He signed to the servant to leave them alone together.
“Where does he go when he leaves this room?” asked Robert.
“To the little gallery with the garderobes. There are really only two rooms in this house. Mine and the Queens. It is a very small house.”
“You are isolated here, my lord.”