“Alas, I fear you are right. But I rejoice to hear from Lady Scrope that her brother, the Duke of Norfolk, has been appointed one of Elizabeth’s Commissioners. I know him to be my friend. I have had friendly messages from him, which have been delivered through Lady Scrope. And with you and my friends to represent me and yet another good friend at the head of the English Commissioners, I do not see how the verdict can fail to be in my favor.”
“Sadler will do his best for Moray against Your Majesty.”
“But it will be necessary for one of his standing to listen to a noble Duke,” replied Mary complacently.
Lesley was less confident. Sir Ralph Sadler was an able and cunning man, and he was unsure of the ability of the Duke of Norfolk to stand up against him.
However they must make the best of a bad business, and Lesley gave himself up to the task of advising the Queen.
THE CONFERENCE OPENED at York early in October when Mary’s Commissioners began by complaining, on her behalf, of those of her subjects who had conspired against her and imprisoned her in the Castle of Lochleven. They accused Moray of taking over the Regency and ruling in the name of Mary’s baby son, while he took unlawful possession of her personal effects such as her valuable jewels, as well as the arsenals of Scotland. Mary wished these rebel subjects to confess their faults and restore the throne to her.
Moray, Maitland and Morton were disturbed. The prevarication of the Queen of England made them unsure of what help they could expect from her. Moray had already sent to Elizabeth, asking whether the power to proclaim Mary guilty of murder should lie in the hands of the Commission. Unless it did so they were reluctant to make the accusation. Elizabeth replied that everything which took place at the Conference was to be made known to her and that judgment was to be given according to her orders.
Moray was at a loss to know how to proceed. He was eager not to offend Elizabeth who might object to the public accusation of murder and adultery against a Queen. Therefore his answer to Mary’s statement was that Bothwell had murdered Darnley, had raped the Queen and kept her captive at Dunbar until he had divorced his wife, and a so-called marriage had taken place between him and Mary; and that he, Moray, and the Scottish lairds had taken up arms to protect Mary from this tyrant.
Meanwhile Moray had in his possession translations of those letters which Mary was reputed to have written to Bothwell in French, and he was wondering how best he could use them.
He began by showing them privately to Norfolk, who had been appointed president of the Conference.
When Norfolk read those letters, with their suggestion of great passion and abandon, he felt more than ever attracted to the Queen of Scots. If she had written them she was a murderess and adulteress, but what an exciting wife she would be! He had seen her and he knew her to be beautiful; to him she had seemed generous and ready to be affectionate. He had not been unaware of the fire beneath the kindly exterior. Norfolk was a man of great vanity, and he believed that he would succeed with Mary where Darnley and Bothwell had failed.
If the letters were not genuine—and Mary would most certainly declare they were not—she was still the most attractive woman he had ever met, and it would be piquant to endeavor to discover the truth of what had happened in Holyrood House and Kirk o’ Field during those eventful days.
Norfolk’s desire for marriage with the Queen was intensified. He would not look too far ahead, but he was certain that she would through him regain the Scottish throne. And what of England? He was related to Elizabeth, on her mother’s side. And Elizabeth was no longer a young girl; she had not married; and there were many who said she never would. What if there were no heirs to the English throne? Mary would be next in the line of succession.
The prospect was even more dazzling after reading those erotic letters. Not only would he have a wife who could bring him a crown—perhaps two—but a voluptuous mistress skilled in the arts of love.
MAITLAND OF LETHINGTON sought out Norfolk. Maitland had his own reasons for not wishing the circumstances of Darnley’s murder to be brought into the light. Darnley had been no friend of his, for it was due to Darnley that at one time his life had been in danger; and but for Mary’s intervention he might have lost it. Mary would never forget that he was the husband of Mary Fleming—one of the four Marys who had shared her childhood—and for his wife’s sake, if not for his, she had done everything possible to save him. Therefore Darnley’s murder had been something he would not have moved a step to prevent; indeed he was strongly suspected of being in the plot to murder. Much better, thought Maitland, not to delve into the matter.
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.”