The Captive Queen of Scots, стр. 93
QUEEN ELIZABETH was with Lord Burleigh and the Earl of Leicester when the news of the marriage was brought to her. Her face grew purple with indignation.
“What’s this!” she cried. “Lennox married to that girl Cavendish! Lennox! What madness is this? This is the work of Bess of Hardwick. I tell you there is no holding that ambitious woman. So she would marry her daughter to Lennox, would she! And do it before I have time to stop her!”
“It seems, Your Majesty,” murmured Burleigh, “that others were in the plot. The bridegroom’s mother is not guiltless, and since this intrigue took place at Sheffield Castle doubtless one other had a hand in it.”
“Meddling women!” snapped Elizabeth. “I’ll teach them to defy me. They shall all be lodged in the Tower.”
“Your Majesty, to bring the Queen of Scotland to the Tower might be hazardous,” put in Leicester. “In the first place attempts might be made to rescue her during the journey; and in the second if she were lodged in London her case would be brought more conspicuously to the notice of the people. In the Tower she would indeed be your prisoner; in Sheffield Castle she might still be called your guest.”
“You are right, Robert, but think not that I shall allow the Shrewsbury and Lennox women to defy me. Let them be made prisoners without a moment’s delay, and have them brought to the Tower.”
“Your Majesty speaks with your usual wisdom,” said Burleigh.
And Leicester bowed his head in adoring agreement.
That day guards were sent to Sheffield to bring the two Countesses to London and the Tower.
SO THE INDIGNANT BESS and the Countess of Lennox were taken as prisoners from Sheffield Castle.
There was a subdued atmosphere there after they had left. The happiness of the married lovers was muted, for they feared that they had brought grave trouble to their mothers; Mary sat with her friends and they worked for hours at their tapestry, talking of that event which had led to the departure of the two Countesses, wondering how they fared in their prison at the Tower.
Mary said that they would send the exquisite tapestry which they had worked to Elizabeth, who was so notoriously greedy for gifts, in the hope that she might be softened toward her three prisoners—the two in the Tower and the one in Sheffield Castle.
Little Bessie Pierpont was happy, because there was now no need to worry about her daily tasks. She could ride and play and take her lessons and listen to the Queen’s stories of her childhood. But Bessie was finding that the greatest pleasure she enjoyed was in the company of her new friend, Monsieur Nau, who was teaching her to speak French; and it was amazing how quickly she learned to prattle in that language. Never had any lesson been such fun as learning French. Bessie’s only sadness during those months was when Monsieur Jacques was too busy to be with her.
“The castle is a different place without the Countess,” said Seton to Andrew Beaton.
“Do you never grow tired of your prison here?” he asked.
“I shall never grow tired of serving the Queen,” she answered.
“Yet you should have a life of your own,” he told her.
She turned away from his ardent gaze. Seton did not wish him to say all that she knew he was feeling; she distrusted her own emotions too. She had vowed to serve the Queen as long as she was needed. She was still needed. There was no time, Seton assured herself, to think of anything but serving the Queen.
Mary often sighed for Buxton.
“It is the only place in England where I wish to be,” she said. “I wonder if I shall be allowed to pay another visit to the baths.”
She was embroidering a nightcap in colorful silks; she used green and gold silks, for she had heard that Elizabeth was fond of such colors. She had already made two others in delicate coloring and she intended to send these to Elizabeth with a request that she might visit Buxton.
As soon as the nightcaps were completed Mary sent them to the French ambassador, asking him to present them to Elizabeth. When Elizabeth saw them she grunted. She was not very eager for such things; she much preferred jewels to be worn by day, or furniture and tapestry which could be admired by many.
Moreover she did not believe that it was wise of her to accept gifts from the Queen of Scots, and she told the French ambassador that such acceptance could become a political matter and she feared the disapproval of her ministers.
The French ambassador knew this to be false, and replied that the Queen of Scots merely wished to show her goodwill.
“Well then,” retorted Elizabeth, “I will take them, but I pray you tell the Queen of Scots that as I have been some years longer in this world than she has, I have learned that people are accustomed to receive with both hands, but to give only with one finger.”
This was meant to convey that Mary was asking for favors in return for her nightcaps—presents which Elizabeth was not really eager to accept.
But when she tried on the nightcaps she did find them becoming and she thought that, as Mary was so eager to visit Buxton, she did not see why she should not go, providing a strong enough guard conducted her there.
XV
Buxton, Chatsworth and Sheffield
WHAT A PLEASURE IT WAS to be once more at Buxton.
“I feel better as soon as I arrive in this place,” Mary declared.
The Earl was inclined to relax restrictions. He had brought certain of the servants with him from Sheffield and among these was Eleanor Britton. Life was serene and pleasant with the Countess in the Tower.
The waters had their usual beneficial effect and Mary’s health improved accordingly. She visited Poole’s Hole once more and enjoyed the outing.
“If only I could stay at Buxton,” she told Seton, “I am sure I should quickly recover my health and feel young again.”
One day the Earl came to her apartments in Low Buxton in a state of some excitement.
“Your Majesty, we have an eminent visitor at Buxton who I feel sure is here solely because Your Majesty has come to take the waters.”
“Who?” she asked.
“Lord Burleigh himself.”
“Lord Burleigh! Then, depend upon it, he comes on Queen Elizabeth’s orders.”
“I hope it is not to spy on us.”
“Ah, you think it may be so?”
“I cannot think of any other reason.”
Poor Shrewsbury! He might feel relieved to be rid of Bess but he was at a loss without her. Mary imagined how differently Bess would have received the news of Burleigh’s presence. She would have been stimulated by the thought of conflict, whereas poor Shrewsbury felt he had yet another burden added to those which were already too heavy.
When Burleigh called on the Queen of Scots, Mary received him cautiously. She knew he had been one of her most bitter enemies at the Court of Elizabeth, and she did not believe he could suddenly have become her friend.
Burleigh looked wan and walked with even more difficulty than he had before.
“You are hoping to derive benefits from the waters?” the Queen asked sympathetically.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I suffer acutely from gout and my feet have always troubled me.”
“Then I trust you find comfort from the water, as I do.”
“Your Majesty’s health has improved, I hope, since you have been here?”
Mary assured him that it had, but she knew he had not come here to inquire about her health.
Later she discovered, through Shrewsbury, that Elizabeth’s minister, who was the sternest of Protestants, had been making inquiries as to how many visitors she received while at Buxton. He was afraid that, under less restraint as she must necessarily be at Buxton in contrast to Sheffield, certain members of the Catholic nobility might have access to her. Burleigh lived in terror of another Catholic rising.