The Earl was in his apartments and he was alone, so that Eleanor was not made to pass on her information to one of the servants.
“My lord,” she stammered, “there are men in the courtyard with laden horses. They come on the Queen’s business.”
The Earl strode toward her and stood looking at her as though he had not quite heard what she had said.
“The Queen’s business, my lord,” she repeated.
“They have come heavily laden?” he asked; and he smiled suddenly. “Ah, if this is what I believe it to be I shall be very pleased.”
“Yes, my lord.”
He put out a hand as though he would grip her shoulder but he changed his mind and his hand fell to his side. “Comforts for the Queen of Scotland,” he murmured. “Poor lady, I fear she suffers much from the cold. I sent for them but I did not expect to receive them so soon.”
Eleanor smiled with him. It was pleasant to feel she shared a secret with him. How strange that he should have told her what the messengers had brought!
“Come,” he said, “we will go down and see what they have brought, and then, my child, you can help carry the comforts—if this they be—to Her Majesty’s apartments.”
He signed to her to go before him. It was an odd sensation going on ahead of the Earl, aware of him, close—very close behind. Eleanor hoped that none of her fellow servants would see her. They would think it so strange. And what if the Countess saw!
Eleanor quickened her pace, and very soon she was in the courtyard where now several servants had gathered. They were chattering, until they saw the Earl, and then fell silent. But they did not realize that he had come down with Eleanor.
THE EARL WAS ASKING for admittance to the Queen’s apartments.
“I bring Your Majesty good news,” he said. “I have sent to Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, for articles which will give you some comfort. May I have them brought up?”
“This is good news, my lord,” Mary replied. “Pray do not hesitate to bring them up.”
The Earl turned and signed to the servants to carry in the packages.
“They come from the royal wardrobe of the Tower of London, I believe, Your Majesty; and if they are what I asked for, I am sure they will please you.”
Mary called her women to her as the packages were carried in, and they helped unroll them.
There were several pieces of tapestry hangings lined with canvas.
Mary clapped her hands. “I cannot wait to hang them,” she cried. “They will keep out the drafts a little.”
Seton spread them out and saw that they were not only useful but decorative, portraying as they did the history of Hercules. Next there were four feather beds with bolsters.
“They make me warmer even to look at them!” said Mary.
This was by no means all. There was more pieces of tapestry—one set depicting the story of the Passion; there were cushions, stools and Turkey carpets. There were even hooks and crochets with which to hang the tapestry.
Mary turned to the Earl, her face radiant. “How can I thank you?” she asked.
He smiled. “Your Majesty, it grieved me that you should come to Tutbury which as you know is too ill furnished to receive you. When I knew that you were to be here, I asked that these objects might be procured for you. I am only sorry that they have been so long in coming. The bad state of the road is the cause.”
“I shall certainly sleep more comfortably now,” she told him, “and my thanks are due to you.”
Everyone in the room was now looking toward the door which had been left open. The Countess stood there.
Mary said: “My dear Countess, I am thanking your husband. I must thank you also, I know. These things are going to make a great deal of difference to my comfort.”
The Countess sailed into the room. Eleanor, watching her, thought: She did not know. He did it without asking her.
She dared not look at the Earl; she felt there would be fear in his face, and she did not want to see it. It was brave of him, she thought, to do it without telling her. Anyone must be brave who stands against her.
“I am delighted that Your Majesty is pleased,” said the Countess, her sharp eyes taking in the tapestry, the beds, the rugs and all the furniture.
“Such a difference!” sighed Mary. “I really do not think I could have endured the cold without something to keep out the drafts.”
“I trust the servants are doing all you require of them?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Then the Earl and I will beg your leave to retire.”
“But of course.”
The Countess looked at the Earl, and her eyes were expressionless.
She curtsied and the Earl made his bow.
As they went out together Eleanor wanted to whisper: You should not be afraid of her. You are the Earl. You should tell her so.
When they reached her apartments Bess turned to her husband; now she was smiling because she prided herself on always being in complete control of her feelings.
“So you sent to the Queen for those fripperies?” she asked.
“I thought they were necessary for our guest’s comfort.”
“I dare swear that if Her Majesty had thought them necessary she would have sent them without being asked.”
“She does not know how comfortless Tutbury can be.”
There was a brief silence while Shrewsbury thought of his first wife, Gertrude, eldest daughter of the Earl of Rutland. What a gentle person she had been! He was beginning to remember her with increasing regret.
“I hope she does not think you are going the way of Knollys and Scrope.”
“Because I ask for a carpet, a bed and some hangings to keep out the drafts?”
Bess gave a sudden harsh laugh. “Our Queen knows Mary’s reputation,” she said. “It is rumored that she bewitches all men who set eyes on her. Is this the beginning of bewitchment?”
“Nonsense,” retorted the Earl. “The poor woman is ill. Her Majesty would not be very pleased with us if it were said she died through neglect.”
Bess nodded her head slowly. “So, without consulting me, you sent for comforts for her.” Again she gave that hard laugh. She slipped her arm through his and she was smiling. “George,” she went on, “I think, in view of the disgrace of Knollys and Scrope, we should be careful. Of course if she is in danger of dying of neglect, I shall see that she does not do so. Perhaps it would be better if such matters were left to me. No one could accuse me of being bewitched by the charm of the Queen of Scots, I fancy!”
Shrewsbury was beginning to hate that cold laughter of hers. What she was saying was: Next time leave it to me to make arrangements. I am the one who makes decisions here.
He was pleased that he had managed to procure the comforts before she had had a chance to interfere. Then, as he looked into her domineering, handsome face, he thought of Eleanor Britton; which seemed unaccountable. It’s the contrast, he told himself. One so arrogant; the other one so meek. But of course Eleanor Britton would be meek. Was she not a servant?
TWO PLEASANT OCCURRENCES quickly followed the arrival of the comforts from the Tower of London.
Lady Livingstone, who had been so ill on the journey, had recovered and came on to Tutbury. Mary who had thought it possible that she might never see this dear friend again was overcome with joy.
Lady Livingstone however was shocked by the Queen’s appearance.
“I have recovered more quickly than Your Majesty did!” she said aghast.
“Ah,” laughed Mary. “But you have not been at Tutbury.” She was serious suddenly. “You should not stay here. It is a foul place. The stench at times is unbearable. Why do you not return to Scotland? I still have friends there, and you and your husband could return to your estates and live in comfort.”