Soon after their arrival Mary became ill; as for Seton, she was scarcely able to move; both women bore their infirmities with fortitude; but when one of Mary’s oldest servants, Renée Rallay, a Frenchwoman who had come with her when she left France, fell sick and died, Mary’s grief overflowed, and she demanded of Sadler how long the Queen of England intended to keep her in this state.
Sadler decided then that when the spring came he would allow her to ride out with him and watch the hawking. He saw no harm in that, provided she was surrounded by guards.
SO ONCE MORE with the coming of more clement weather Mary’s health improved; and it was a great pleasure to be allowed to ride out even in the company of Sadler and Somers, and accompanied by guards.
With her on these occasions rode Bessie Pierpont, now a blooming beauty of sixteen.
It was one day when they returned from such an excursion that they found Jacques Nau was in the castle, having come straight from Elizabeth’s Court.
Mary was so delighted to see him that she did not notice the flush of pleasure which rose to Bessie’s cheeks, nor did she intercept the ardent looks which passed between the girl and the secretary.
“My good friend,” cried Mary, “how it delights me to see you.”
Jacques kissed the Queen’s hand, but even as he did so he could not prevent his eyes straying to the lovely young girl who stood beside Mary.
“Pray come to my chamber with all speed,” said Mary. “I can scarce wait to hear your news.”
As they made their way there, Bessie walked close to him and when his hand reached out for hers, and pressed it, Bessie could have wept for joy. She would tell him when they were alone that she had lived in great fear that he would have met some fair lady at the English Court who would have made him forget all about simple little Bessie Pierpont. But it did not seem so, and she was exultant because she believed that Jacques was as pleased to be with her as she was to see him.
At the door of the Queen’s chamber, Bessie must leave them, but the look which Jacques cast in her direction told her that soon he would be seeking her out.
When they were alone together Mary complimented Jacques on the manner in which he had accomplished his mission. She saw at once that there was a change in the young man’s manner. There was a new air of confidence; she believed she understood. Elizabeth had a fondness for handsome young men, and Jacques was undoubtedly handsome. Elizabeth would have been enchanted by his French manners, for there was no doubt that Jacques knew how to turn a pretty compliment. Yes, the visit to the English Court had changed Jacques in some way. He was full of assurance having become an ambassador, whereas before he had been a mere secretary.
“Jacques,” said Mary, “I have to thank you for the manner in which you dealt with my affairs. But for you, I am sure, the Countess of Shrewsbury would have been allowed to go on repeating her scandals.”
“It was a great pleasure to me,” Jacques replied, “to achieve an apology in the presence of the Council.”
“You found the Queen of England fair and just?”
“I did, Your Majesty.”
Ah, thought Mary, if only I could see her. If only I could have a chance of talking to her.
Failing that, it was comforting to have someone such as her good and loyal French secretary to look after her affairs.
But there was one other piece of news which Jacques must break to her. He knew that it was going to cause her sorrow and he dreaded telling her. Since he had entered the castle and seen young Bessie Pierpont, he was yearning to be done with business and be with her. He was surprised that he could feel little else but this great need to be with Bessie.
“I have news of Your Majesty’s son.”
The Queen’s expression changed; she clasped her hands together.
Jacques did not look at her as he said: “His Majesty of Scotland finds it difficult to act as joint sovereign with yourself. He has therefore entered into a treaty with the Queen of England as sole sovereign of Scotland.”
Mary looked at her secretary as though she had not heard him. Slowly the implication of what this meant came to her. So he is repudiating me! she thought. At last my enemies have succeeded in taking him from me utterly. He . . . my own little Jamie, now finds his mother an encumbrance. He tells me that I am, in his opinion, no longer Queen of Scotland.
She said slowly: “Is this indeed so?”
Jacques answered gently: “I fear so, Your Majesty.”
Mary covered her face with her hands.
“Your Majesty would wish me to leave you?” whispered Jacques.
The Queen nodded.
BESSIE WAS HOVERING near the door of the Queen’s apartment, and as he came out she threw herself into his arms.
“It has been so long . . . .” she whispered. They were kissing, exploring each other’s faces with their lips.
“Bessie . . . my Bessie . . . .” murmured Jacques.
“You can have no idea how desolate this place is without our secretary Jacques.”
“Can it be as desolate as the English Court without Bessie Pierpont?”
“Oh Jacques . . . what shall we do . . . ?”
“There is one thing we must do . . . and that quickly. Marry.”
Bessie laughed. “I hoped you would say that.”
“Do you think they will allow us to?”
“The Queen never refuses me anything.”
“What of your grandmother?”
“I believe I am a little like her. I am going to do the deed and tell afterward . . . as she did in the case of Arabella’s parents.”
Jacques was thoughtful. He had to remember that he was after all only a secretary. He wondered what action would be taken by the Shrewsburys if he married their granddaughter. He was passionately in love with this charming young girl, but he had to think for them both. It would be disastrous if for the sake of a brief week or so of passion they allowed their entire future to be jeopardized. Jacques was really in love for the first time in his life, but ardently as he desired Bessie, he could yet consider the years ahead of them. Bessie was not only to be his wife, but the mother of his children. This was no sudden blazing passion; he had watched Bessie grow since she was a child of four, and the happiest moments of those long ago days had been when she sat beside him, the tip of her little pink tongue showing at the corner of her mouth as she bent over a Latin exercise with which he was helping her. He had loved her then, and now that she was a woman he desired her as he had never desired a woman before; but the tenderness, the longing to protect had remained; and this he knew to be love in all its aspects.
Thus when he had danced at the English Court, when he had paid the gallant compliments expected of a Frenchman, he had never ceased to dream of young Bessie Pierpont, and all other women could be nothing but passing fancies to him.
He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently.
“My Bessie,” he said, “my true love Bessie, I shall love you until I am laid in my tomb.”
“And I you, Jacques,” she declared solemnly.
“And because I love you as I do I will curb my need of you until that time when I can be sure that in taking and sharing the delights which must surely be ours, I can assure myself that no harm shall come to you.”
“There is no time like this moment, Jacques,” cried Bessie. He embraced her with such fervor that she cried out in her ecstasy. But he released her suddenly and shook his head.
“First there shall be marriage,” he said. “It is how it must be, since you are Bessie my only love. But there will be obstacles and, because I will not have you hurt, we must be patient. Little Bessie, from this day we shall begin to make our plans.”