THREE

TWO YEARS AFTER THE DEATH OF CHASTELARD, MARY WAS still unmarried. During that time there had been no lack of suitors; but it seemed that a royal marriage was indeed difficult to arrange. There were so many watching Mary. So the suitors were proposed and dismissed, over those two years.

Mary had suffered one great loss in the death of her uncle Francois de Guise who had been assassinated at Orleans by a young fanatic, Poltrot de Meroy. The Cardinal wrote often and as affectionately as ever, but he was continually pointing out the advantages of a match with Charles, the Archduke of Austria. This she could not understand. She was hoping for the grandest of marriages with Don Carlos of Spain; and yet she had come to understand—with the help of David Rizzio—that the Cardinal was not working for that match but against it, and it seemed incredible that her uncle should be opposed to that which could bring her so much honor.

“There must be some reason for it, David,” she said.

David knew the reason, and it shocked her deeply.

“Madam, the Cardinal is your uncle and you feel great affection toward him, but he works not for your good and your happiness. He works for the power of the Guises in France. A marriage with Don Carlos, while bringing great honor to yourself and to Scotland, would serve to strengthen Spain. France would be less powerful than of yore and, with France, the Guises. No, your uncle as we now know has exerted his strength against the Spanish match for that reason. Now, Madam, a Catholic Scotland with yourself and the Archduke as its rulers would be deemed a firm ally of France, but would in fact be a dependant of that country; there would be a strong France to stand against a weakened Spain. That is the Guisian policy. True, it would do you no good; but your uncle’s first concern is not with yourself, Madam, but with the Guises in France.”

“But my uncle has done everything for my good… always.”

“When your good was his also, Madam.”

This was a tragic discovery, and yet she knew it to be true. She remembered now with humiliation those tender scenes between herself and the Cardinal. Always he had been subduing her will to his, not because he wished to help her, but because he wished to use her in order to increase the power of himself and his family.

David had shown her this as he had shown her the falseness of her brother James; and she knew that David was right.

She stood alone now with no one but David to help her; strangely enough the thought strengthened her. She would cease to listen to the advice of the Cardinal, as she had already to that of James. With David to help her she would arrange her own affairs.

Maitland of Lethington had been back and forth during the past years with messages to and from the Queen of England. Maitland was that politician most likely to find favor with the English Queen. He was possessed of suave manners, good looks and a clever tongue; and all those qualities appealed to Elizabeth. Now James Melville was also at the English Court and was sending her regular dispatches giving accounts of the state of affairs there.

There was one young man who was in the minds of several people as a possible suitor for the Queen of Scots. This was Henry Darnley, a tall, slim youth of nineteen. He was handsome and graceful, with large blue, rather prominent eyes, a fair complexion and beardless face which made him seem younger than he actually was. He had the additional advantage of royal blood, being a direct descendant of the Tudors. Elizabeth liked him since he was handsome, a good musician and dancer, but she never—or rarely—allowed her personal dislikes to override her political judgment.

She made an open declaration that she would be much against the marriage of Mary and Darnley, but alone with Cecil who shared some of her secrets, she was less emphatic. Although she declared her desire to see Marys country living in peace and prosperity, that was far from her wish. An internally peaceful Scotland was a threat to England, and Elizabeth would never forget that Mary had dared to display the arms of England, suggesting thereby that Elizabeth was a bastard and had no right to the throne. In their secret sessions, Elizabeth and Cecil were not at all sure that a marriage between Mary and Darnley would be a bad thing for England after all, for they knew Henry Darnley to be a weak, vain and dissolute young man who would not help—but rather hinder—Mary in the governing of her country. But Elizabeth’s policy was to make a display of benevolent friendliness toward her cousin over the Border.

Darnley remained at the English Court and, though his ambitious mother, who resided in England where Elizabeth could seize her if she wished, and his equally ambitious father, who had recently been allowed to return to Scotland where he had regained his estates, had high hopes of their son’s future, Elizabeth outwardly frowned on these hopes.

There was another young man whom Elizabeth was prepared to offer to Mary. She would not at first disclose his name. Indeed, she declared, she could not bring herself to do so. She offered this man because she loved the Scottish Queen so devotedly and wished to do her so much good, for the man she had in mind was the most perfect man she, Elizabeth, had ever set eyes on, and she could not bear to contemplate his leaving her Court.

But at last she was constrained to whisper the name of this man to Melville, and Thomas Randolph was given instructions to tell it to the Queen of Scots.

When Randolph sought an audience, David Rizzio was with Mary. She had given him more and more work to do, and he was constantly at her side. The Englishman looked askance at the small stunted figure of the Piedmontese, but Mary said: “You may speak, Master Randolph, before my secretary.”

Randolph then showed her a list of possible suitors suggested by the Queen of England and, on reading the last name on the list, Mary raised her eyebrows and looked full into the Englishman’s face.

“Lord Robert Dudley!” she exclaimed.

“The same, Madam.”

“But this man is…”

Randolph’s look silenced her. He greatly feared she was about to make some indiscreet observation concerning his mistress.

“But this is a man with whom the Queen of England would not wish to part,” said Mary firmly.

“My Queen bids me tell you that she is so desirous for Your Majesty’s happiness that she has set herself the task of finding for you the most perfect man she knows. This is Lord Robert.”

Mary was aware of David’s eyes upon her; he was pleading: Do not show anger. Do not show that you regard this as an insult. The Queen of England is offering you one who, many would say, is her discarded lover but, Madam, I beg of you, show no anger.

How well she was beginning to cooperate with David. How she delighted in following his lead! He was right, of course. David was always right.

“There are times, Master Randolph,” she said, “when I think of my dead husband. Although several years have elapsed since he died, the memory of him is still too strong for me to consider remarriage.”

“But, Madam, a handsome living husband would help you to forget one who is dead.”

“I do not know. There has been too much talk of marriage. Sometimes I think I will follow your Queen’s example and remain unmarried.”

“That would entail a grievous loss to Scotland, if you will forgive my saying so, Madam. My Queen assures you that if you marry Lord Robert she will then fix the succession. On her death you or your heirs would be rulers of England if my Queen should die without heirs of her body.”

“It may be that I shall not outlive your Queen, Master Randolph. It is true that I am some years younger, but she is possessed of the better health.”