Seton, taking charge, hastily conducted her to her bedchamber and as Mary lay writhing on her bed a horrible suspicion came to Seton that her mistress had been poisoned.
She turned to Jane Kennedy and said: “Go at once to the Earl and Countess and tell them that I fear the Queen is grievously ill.”
Jane hurried to the Earl’s apartments and, finding him alone there, told him of Seton’s fears. The Earl went at once to Mary’s bedchamber and when he saw her he was deeply disturbed.
“Her Majesty’s apothecary is preparing a remedy for her,” said Seton. “But I think she may need greater skill than his.”
At that moment the Countess came into the apartment.
“What is wrong?” she demanded. Then she saw the Queen. “I shall send at once for Dr. Caldwell,” she said. “I do not like what I see.”
For once Seton was glad of the Countess’s methods when, in a very short time, the doctor for whom she had sent arrived in the Queen’s chamber.
He spent the night at her bedside and in the morning, much to the surprise of all those who had seen how ill she was and the nature of her illness, Mary still lived.
BESS TALKED in private with her husband.
“I do not like the look of this,” she said.
“Nor I.”
“I believe someone tried to poison her.”
The Earl nodded. Bess looked at him in silence for a few moments, then she said: “Do you think she has commanded this to be done?”
“Never!” The Earl was emphatic. “If the Queen of Scots were to die of poison, the first person to be suspected would be Elizabeth. She would not want that. If there are men and women in this country who would wish to set a Stuart on the English throne, there is nothing more likely to advance their cause than such a murder. The Queen of Scots would become a martyr while the Queen of England would be reckoned a monster. I am sure this has nothing to do with Elizabeth.”
“Then it is clearly one of Moray’s people.”
“And how can we say who? Scotsmen come and go. They declare themselves to be friends of Queen Mary, but depend upon it, there are spies among them. If she were to die . . . .”
His wife interrupted: “We should no longer enjoy Elizabeth’s favor. She would blame us for allowing poisoners to have access to her.”
“But how can we prevent that?”
“By being more watchful of course, and making sure that this does not happen again. I am going to send for Dr. Francis who is as good a physician as Caldwell. The two of them together will pull her through.”
The Earl bowed his head, and Bess put up one of her strong white hands to ruffle his hair. She could be affectionate at times; she liked to have a man about the house as long as he obeyed her. And George was being sensible over this matter.
He took her hand and kissed it. “I am glad that you are sending for Dr. Francis.”
She laughed almost roguishly. “You would not like this to be the end of our romantic captive?” she asked.
“In point of fact,” he said, “I was thinking I should not like this to be the end of the Shrewsburys.”
Bess laughed. “Leave this to me. I shall see that she does not die.”
The Earl was certain that Bess would succeed, and was glad at that moment that he had such a clever, forceful and capable wife.
WHEN MARY RECOVERED within the next few days, after, as everyone admitted, coming near to death, many were convinced that there had been an attempt to poison her. This seemed certain when news came to Wingfield that in Scotland the Regent Moray was taking military action against all her friends, robbing them of their lands and riches and levying exorbitant taxes on those whom he allowed to keep some of their possessions.
So rigorous had been the measures taken, and so great was his power now throughout Scotland, that Argyle had thought it wise to accept his authority and had signed a treaty acknowledging this. When Huntley and Herries did likewise it seemed that Mary’s cause was lost; and the fact that these events were taking place in Scotland while Mary had had her mysterious sickness at Wingfield, confirmed the suspicion of many that this had been an attempt by Moray’s agents to poison her.
Willie Douglas was incensed at what had happened and, coming unannounced into the Queen’s apartment one day, had implored her to allow him to keep a closer watch on all who came near her.
“You have my permission, Willie,” said the Queen. “Indeed, I shall only feel safe if you do so.”
So Willie was often to be seen at the door of her chamber, and he kept his eye on all who came into her presence and who conferred with each other in the castle. Previously he had been concerned with finding a method of bringing the Queen out of captivity; now he had an additional task. He had to save her from those who planned to murder her.
It was startling and significant when news came from London that Mary’s death had been reported there.
“It would seem,” said Seton to Willie, “that some were so eager to announce it that they did not wait for it to take place.”
“If I can find the man that harms her,” Willie growled, “I’ll cut his head off with my sword, I will, and I’ll march around the castle with the bauble dripping on my sword.”
“We will watch over her together, Willie,” said Seton.
“We’ll never leave her while she needs us,” answered Willie.
“I have sworn an oath that I never will,” Seton said solemnly.
And it was as though they had made a pact together.
MARY WAS BETTER NOW and able to walk in the grounds; the May sunshine was warming and she quickly showed signs of regaining her health.
But she soon found herself in a predicament which caused her alarm and was desperately seeking a way out of it.
As she walked with Seton on one side and Jane Kennedy on the other she spoke to them of her troubles.
“I am becoming very short of money, and the doctors whom Shrewsbury summoned are asking for payment. The fact is, I have no money with which to meet their demands, and I do not know how I can raise it.”
Seton began taking stock of their valuables, but most of the Queen’s possessions were now in Moray’s hands.
“Even if we sold everything we have there would not be enough,” said Mary. “And I wonder how I am going to continue to live. I owe you all so much.”
Jane and Seton declared that she owed them nothing. But Mary sighed and said there was nothing she could do but write to Lesley, Bishop of Ross, in London and tell him of her embarrassment.
“Do this, Your Majesty,” advised Seton, “and I will summon Borthwick to convey our letter to London with all speed. The sooner Lesley begins to deal with it, the easier you will sleep.”
So they retired to Mary’s apartments where she wrote her letter, and Borthwick left with it at once for London.
He returned before they expected him; and to their surprise and pleasure he brought money with him.
There was two hundred pounds which would relieve her of her immediate anxieties, and more would be following.
Mary was astonished by this ready response. Then she read the letter which Lesley had written and which, Borthwick said, was to be delivered into her hands alone. Her benefactor was one from whom it was most meet and fitting for her to receive assistance: the Duke of Norfolk to whom she was almost—though in secret—betrothed.
Norfolk was true to his word. Within the next few weeks more money arrived and very shortly Mary had received nine hundred and sixty-six pounds from the man who hoped to become her husband.
There was however a letter from Lesley who, having heard of Norfolk’s generosity, was a little uneasy. He believed that by accepting the money, Mary was entering into an intrigue from which she might find it difficult—supposing she wished—to extricate herself. He advised her to ask for money from France and to look upon that which Norfolk had sent her as a loan.