Mary had scarcely reprimanded him at all, which surely meant that she expected him to make the attempt again in some way. This time he would do so with more skill; and before the morning he would be her lover.

He had a greater opportunity of concealing himself on this occasion. Mary was closeted with her brother and Secretary of State Maitland, when he went silently to that chamber in which she would spend the night. He examined the bed and gleefully discovered that there was plenty of room for him to hide himself beneath it. It was a pity he was wearing his sword and dagger, for they were rather difficult to manage, but he had not wished to appear before her in anything but his finest array.

He waited in discomfort for a long time, but eventually he heard Mary and two of her women enter the apartment.

“I am tired,” said Mary. “Come, Flem, hurry Let to bed. My feet are so cold. Did you bring my foot polkis?”

“Here they are.” Flem held up the linen foot-bags without which Mary could not sleep on cold nights for her feet would not get warm unless she wore them.

“Such a headache!” said Mary as Livy took off her headdress.

“Dearest,” said Livy, “I hope you are not going to start your headaches again.”

“It’s the cold weather. How I long for summer!”

It was Livy who noticed a faint movement of the bed valance. She stared at it in silence, but then looked closer. With a swoop she lifted it and disclosed a mans boot. The Queen and Flem hurried to her side. Groaning, Chastelard came from under the bed.

“This is too much!” cried Mary.

“The second time!” muttered Flem.

Chastelard, furious at his own folly in allowing himself to be discovered, furious with Livy for discovering him, overcome by pent-up emotions, did not attempt to apologize. Clumsily and without warning, he sprang at the Queen, seized her and, to her horror and that of the two women, began to kiss her passionately.

Mary cried out: “How dare you!”

Livy and Flem fell upon Chastelard and tried to free their mistress, but his mad desire and determination seemed to lend him the strength of two men. He succeeded in forcing the Queen onto the bed where all four of them wrestled together.

“Help!” cried Mary, really alarmed. “Quickly!”

Flem broke away and ran to the door calling: “Help! Save the Queen!”

There was a great bustle in the apartment as guards came rushing in.

“Take this man!” commanded the Queen.

Chastelard was seized, as Moray, the Queen’s brother, came into the apartment.

“What means this?” he demanded.

“He was under the bed!” gasped Flem. “Hiding!”

“Take this man’s sword and dagger,” said Moray to the guards. “Put him under close arrest.”

Chastelard appealed to the Queen. “Madame, you know my intentions …”

“They were clear,” said Mary.

“The love I bear you …”

“Take him away!” roared Moray.

Chastelard was dragged, struggling, from the apartment.

Moray turned sternly to his sister. “Madam,” he said, “he shall lose his life for this outrage.”

Mary had grown pale but Moray went on quickly: “I doubt not that he is the tool of your enemies.” He waved his hand to all those who had come into the apartment. “Your presence is no longer needed,” he added. “Fortunately the Queen’s life has been saved.”

Moray was not slow to note that among those who had come into the Queen’s apartment was Thomas Randolph, and his delight in what he was planning to write to his mistress was betrayed by his expression. A nice tidbit to send to his mistress in England—the heroine of many a similar story—and one which would naturally be told and retold against the Queen of Scots. There were several firm supporters of Knox who had witnessed this scene; they had good noses for smelling out the scandals. The fact that Chastelard had been found in the Queens bedchamber would be all over Edinburgh by the morning. They would have it in the Highlands and on the Border within a few hours; and as soon as Master Thomas Randolph could arrange it, Madam Elizabeth would be chuckling over it with her paramour Robert Dudley.

As soon as Moray was alone with the three women he said: “I must have the truth.”

“Livy found him under the bed,” declared Mary. “He came out and sprang at me.”

“I fear Your Majesty has given him some encouragement to behave thus.”

“By my appreciation of his poems?” said Mary angrily.

“There has been talk of dances,” growled her brother.

“In France we always danced the latest dances, and none thought the worse of us for that.”

“But Your Majesty is now in Scotland.”

“Jamie… what do you propose to do to Chastelard? You spoke of his losing his life. I could not consent to that… merely because of a momentary madness, a prank, you might say.”

“He was wearing his sword and dagger. That seems to me significant.”

“What do you mean, Jamie?”

“You must surely know that as Queen of Scotland you have many enemies.”

“Chastelard is no enemy!”

“It would be better for your honor if it could be proved that he is. Get your mistress to bed,” he ordered the Marys. “Madam,” he went on, turning to Mary, “we must speak of this matter in the morning.”

When he had gone, Mary said: “I am sorry we called James in.”

“Madam,” said Flem, “we had to call for help.”

“Yet…” She looked round the room at the shadows cast by the flickering candlelight. “Well… nothing can be done till morning. One of you stay with me. You, Flem… sleep in my bed this night.”

“Yes, dearest Majesty.”

“I do not know why I am afraid, my darlings, but I am. See! I am shivering.”

“He upset you, dear Madam,” said Livy. “Come, let us get you warm, and Flem shall stay the night.”

So Flem and Mary lay in the big bed while Livy drew the curtains and tiptoed away.

Flem noticed that the Queen continued to shiver, and it was dawn before they fell asleep.


MARY FACED her brother and wished that David were with her at Burntisland. She needed counsel now, because David had opened her eyes and she was beginning to distrust James.

“Does Your Majesty realize,” said James sternly, “that this day they will be talking in Edinburgh of how your lover was discovered hiding beneath your bed?”

“My lover! A young poet of the Court!”

“All know Your Majesty’s fondness for poets.”

“But surely we can simply say that he was not my lover. He is a poet and a good dancer.”

“With whom Your Majesty danced in black silk breeches!”

“I’ll not be spied on!” said Mary angrily.

“Shall you not, sister? Alas! It is not for you to say whether you will be or not. You are spied on, and the whole of Knox’s congregation knows that, in black silk breeches, you danced with this man.”

“It was for the purpose of the masque.”

“The Lords of the Congregation have their own ideas as to the purpose.”

“Am I responsible for their evil minds?”

“No, but you must consider them.”

“Chastelard was discovered; he was sent out; there the matter ends. It is no concern of anyone but myself.”

“There again I must most humbly contradict you. It is the concern of Scotland, England, France, Spain, Rome…. You are a Queen and your actions are watched. Your chances of making an advantageous marriage will not be enhanced by a scandal such as this might well become.”

“Oh, one day I may take it into my head to marry where I please, and it may not be one of these hesitant gentlemen who, with their governments, are calculating whether I shall bring them a big enough dowry.”

“If Your Majesty will pardon my brotherly comment, I must say that you are not speaking with your usual good sense. This man Chastelard has upset you, and understandably so. He must be made an example. We must show the people what happens to those who dare insult the Queen. There is only one thing to be done. He must go to the block.”

“The block! For hiding in a room!”

“In the Queens bedchamber… under the Queen’s bed … his sword and dagger handy.”

“I would never agree to that. Poor Chastelard! Why … I was fond of him.”

“Too fond for his safety, Madam.”

“I shall never consent.” She thought: I shall talk to David. Together we shall find a way to save poor Chastelard.

Moray looked at her quickly. She had changed. He could almost believe there was some influence working against him. He must get her married to some powerful prince; then he would be free to take up the Regency. If she did not marry abroad she would be here forever; he would be pushed into the background; she must never be allowed to take another adviser. The matter of immediate moment was that there should be no scandal to disturb wedding plans. Nothing must stand in the way of a match with one of the European princes.

“There is something I must tell Your Majesty,” he said. “You have been deceived in this man. When he played the lover he acted a part. He is a servant of the Montmorency’s, and the Montmorencys with the Bourbons are, as you know, the leading Huguenot faction in France. This, my dearest sister, was a plot on your life which your faithful Marys have foiled. There is only one way to deal with such an offense. I beg you to listen to reason.”

“It can’t be true!” gasped Mary.

“It is hard for your pride to accept this. It was easy for him to play the role of lover, because so many love you. But I know that he came here to murder you. This I shall tell his judges… and I have no doubt of the verdict.”