The Beauty of the Mist (33 page)

With a small bow, the steward backed out of the room.

John stood for a moment, considering his next move. He had to go after her. That was, of course, the only way. Only when he found out what it was that Caroline had done, could he straighten out the mess that she had somehow created. But he had to go now.

Suddenly, the Highlander became aware of the item his eyes had focused on. There, on the side table, lay Isabel’s note. Perhaps it wasn’t Caroline. Perhaps something had happened to Maria’s aunt. He considered, as he picked up the note, whether he should read the message. The parchment was thick and well made. Well, if he was to be of any help at all, he would need to know the problem. Whatever was written there, he would keep it in confidence. He smiled grimly to himself. How much more shocking could Isabel be on paper, than in person?

John unfolded the letter and began to read.

She never noticed the bitter scent of myrrh burning sharply in the air.

Maria continued to pray as she had for over an hour, oblivious to the clouds of incense hanging about the chapel altar. Hail Mary, full of Grace. The stone floor was hard beneath her knees, but the young queen felt nothing. Blessed art thou amongst women. Maria pressed her eyelids together. She would shut out the world. Blessed is the fruit of thy womb. A tear escaped and trailed unnoticed along confining line of her wimple’s starched linen. Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our...death.

She dropped her head into her joined hands. Her tears were plenty, but her sobs were hidden. Hearing one of the heavy doors of the chapel creak somewhere in the back of the church, she pressed her fists to her eyes, stopping the flow of her tears.

“Please, Virgin Mother,” Maria prayed in a whisper. “Help me through this. Let him go unharmed. If there has to be one who is punished, let it be me. I am the one who has sinned.”

Maria heard the quiet steps of the man approaching. She picked up her prayer book and turned to look at the priest who now stood watching her.

“It’s time, Your Majesty. He is ready for you now.”

Rising from her place before the altar, Maria of Hungary nodded to the man and wordlessly glided past him to the door.

“These months have been trying, you know? Quite trying!” the Emperor barked angrily. “I am extending myself in every direction. I have to crush rebellion in Spain, contain the French king’s egotistical land seizures, somehow hold the Turk’s advances in the east, control Lutheran heresy in Germany, restrain the Pope in Rome! And on top of it all, I have to chase my own sister across the continent.”

Maria’s eyes followed the path of her brother’s steps. He had been lecturing without a pause and had not allowed her to speak a word since she’d stepped inside this chamber.

“And
you
, of all people. The most amenable of the lot.” He came to a stop before her. “Any of our sisters and I would not of been shocked, not even surprised. Any of them could have done it, and I would of been prepared to react. Eleanor, Catherine, Isabella...”

“Our sister, Isabella, has been dead for three years now,” Maria put in quietly.

“Don’t you think I know?” Charles shouted back at her. With an effort, he controlled himself, grumbling, “God rest her soul. But now I have her daughters marriages to worry about. What are their names?”

“Dorothea and Christina. And they are only babes.”

The Holy Roman Emperor drew himself up to his full height and glared at her. “We have all been born to these God given responsibilities, Maria. It is true that marital alliances and inheritance have consolidated the power of our monarchy. But as I promised when I received this imperial crown, either I or some member of my family will sit as a ruler or consort on every royal throne of Europe. This is the only way to fight back against that devil of a Turk, Suleyman, and that fanatic, Martin Luther. A united front is the only way! And God himself has chosen me to lead the fight.” Maria looked steadily into Charles’s face and saw his eyes soften. “Maria, it is not for us to change what God has willed to be our fate. As you already know, my dear sister, we–and I mean all the members of our family–must sacrifice ourselves to God’s plan.”

“Just as you have sacrificed yourself.” Maria’s voice was cool.

He quickly nodded in agreement and then, comprehending her tone, stared at her for an instant.

As Maria returned her brother’s gaze, she knew he was considering the fact that she had never addressed him this way before. In fact, she doubted that she had ever so much as spoken to him without being asked a question first. And her answer had always been one of compliance. Well, it was time to even shock him further, she thought.

“Your sacrifice, though, my dear brother, has turned out to be a very agreeable one. As fate would have it, Isabella of Portugal turned out to be a most lovely and charming wife and queen, so please remember that ‘sacrifice’ encompasses a whole range of experiences, and not all so pleasant as yours.”

Maria gave him a thin smile. She could see the anger beginning to emerge through his surprise. But she was growing tired of his speech on
God’s
imperial ambitions. And at the same time, she knew she needed to shift the subject of discussion. After all, this was not the topic that needed to be addressed right now.

Her voice was soft as she continued. “And congratulations, Charles. The Palace is buzzing with the good news. Once again you are a father. And a daughter this time.” Her brother’s green eyes told her that she had touched something in his heart. As hard as he wanted to hide his joy, Maria could see the smile creeping into them. “How fares the babe? And Isabella?”

The Emperor paused and looked away at the portrait of his wife. In the picture she was holding their first boy. When he looked back at her, Maria could tell he was still trying to analyze her change in tone.

“The child has blue eyes,” he said at last.

“We shall not hold that against her. All babes have blue eyes,” Maria put in gently.

“She is feisty and loud.”

“What else could we expect? She is
your
daughter.”

“She is bald.”

“Lucky girl.” Maria smiled at his surprised look. “Perhaps there will be no suitors.”

Once again Charles just stared, obviously trying to understand this change that he was perceiving in his sister. The young queen watched as a range of emotions flitted over his face, ending with suspicion.

“Where is she?” he asked threateningly. “She has taught you to pretend, hasn’t she? You are to act indifferently to the knowledge that you must do your duty. But it won’t work. I am up to her game. Where is she now? Tell me that.”

“Where is who?” Maria asked in a steady voice.

“Isabel,” he shouted. “Where is Isabel hiding?”

“I thought I heard you left her with the babe only an hour ago.”

“Your humor is misdirected, Maria,” he snapped. “You very well know that I am talking about Isabel, our aunt. Our mother’s older sister. The shrewd, conniving, subversive troublemaker, Isabel. The one who stole you away before my eyes. The one that has done her best to abuse your common sense from the day you were born. The one who has no courage to appear here before me now that her treacherous plan has gone awry.”

Maria felt her temper warm her skin. “I will not allow you to punish her for something I initiated.”

“She needs to be under lock and key. She is dangerous to herself and to the Empire.”

“She isn’t,” Maria snapped, her emerald eyes flashing with anger. “She is kind and generous. And she is the only one with any common sense among us.”

Charles opened his mouth to argue. But Maria was quick to continue. “Don’t waste your time speaking out so rashly against someone who, despite your differences in opinion, we all know you respect and admire...”

“I despise the woman!”

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Then why do you continue to invite her back to court, despite all the times she openly defies your will?”

“I need to keep track of her. For all I know, she could be selling the family jewels to Henry Tudor,” Charles huffed. “Besides, I never invite her. She just marches in as if she owns the place. Nay, I scorn her actions. I loathe her!”

“You are two of a kind, and you know it!” Maria pressed. “Otherwise, why is it that every time Mother stirs in Castile, Isabel is the first person you run to?”

“Because Isabel understands her. She is as insane as her sister.”

“And why is it that before you lift a finger to plan one of your campaigns, you take her into your confidence?” She felt her pitch elevating to match his. “She is as valuable to you as the best of your trusted councilors.”

“It’s not true,” he denied, his face scornful, but his eyes telling her she was correct.

“Admit it, Charles. You like her. You respect her. And you value her opinion... since she is the only one who has no fear of you. Isabel is the only one who has the courage to disagree with you when she knows you are wrong. When
you
know you are wrong. She is the only one who has the courage to speak the truth.”

Charles tore his eyes away from Maria’s face and moved to a long table before one of the high, arched windows. The Holy Roman Emperor would never admit that he took counsel from a woman.

“None of what you said is the truth, Maria. I hate her!”

Maria was the one who paused now. She let her eyes roam her brother’s profile. She let him feel the heat of her scowl.

“Charles,” she said at last. “Lying is not becoming in you.”

The look of shock on Charles’s face, as he turned to stare at her, was priceless. She had never seen him so lost for words. He appeared to her like some foundering ship, his rudderless hull buffeted by some great wind. An unexpected wind.

The Emperor shook his head to clear it. “You’ve spent far too much time in her company.” His tone had lost its fury, but his words were uttered with conviction. “I think you have become insane...like her.”

Maria struggled to hide the satisfaction she had in hearing what he’d just said. She took a deep breath. This was good. If it was easier for Charles to listen to her, thinking of her as crazed, then so be it. She would speak her peace. She knew the formula. Speak only half of the truth. Then ask for anything. That’s what her mother had always done. That’s what Isabel practiced, as well. And though Charles might call it insanity, he always listened, and generally acted to accommodate them.

“I don’t think insanity is catching, but think what you will, Charles.” She gestured to the table and the chairs placed around it. “I have something to tell you, and it might take a few moments. But I can assure you that you will find it quite a bit less painful than the discussion we’ve been having.”

The look of disbelief on his face and the shake of the head did not go unnoticed by the young queen. She remained standing by the table. She would use every inch of her modest height if it gave her any advantage.

“Let’s start from beginning,” she suggested, folding her hands in front of her. The time for pleasantries was over; she needed to find out how much Charles knew of the situation. “Have you met with Caroline Maule, yet?”

“Who the hell is this woman?” he asked, vaguely recalling the name.

“That’s good,” She nodded with satisfaction. “So that means you haven’t spent much time with Count Diego since arriving at the Palace?”

“I have seen the count,” he answered. “I know everything you’ve told him. About the loss of that merchant ship you were traveling on. About being saved by the Scots. About them not knowing your identity. And I know very well about your damned thick-headedness regarding a perfectly well conceived marriage to a handsome young king.”

She ignored his last remark. The good count would never have spoken of her in such terms.

“This Caroline Mauve...”

“Maule.”

“Very well...Mauve, Maule...it’s of no consequence.” He waved her off irritably. “This is the woman who insists on having a private meeting with me?”

“She is a conniving opportunist who thinks that by sneaking into my cabin and stealing a ring of mine, she can convince you to help her with some evil business of hers.” Maria forced herself to keep the note of hostility out of her voice. The queen clasped her hands behind her back and tried to regain her calm.

“Well, perhaps we should have Count Diego lock her away in a safe place for a few years...”

“Nay, Charles. That is not what I want.”

“But it sounds as if she wants to dishonor you. I assume that you don’t know this woman. Why is it that she wants to slander your name?”

“She is trying to settle an old score,” she said calmly.

“Against you?” The Emperor’s curiosity was ready to give way to his impatience. “Tell me what this is all about, Maria. I was up most of the night, and...”

“Sir John Macpherson. Her vile plot is directed against Sir John, the ship’s commander.” She wanted to stop there. But from the look that her brother was giving her, it was obvious that she needed to explain more fully. “From what I heard while I was aboard the
Great Michael
, this Lady Caroline was an acquaintance...a close acquaintance...of the commander some time back. And...and from what I hear, even though the lady has recently married another man, she still had intentions of carrying on with Sir John.”

“A lovely woman,” Charles suggested wryly.

Maria hurried on, surprised that her brother was actually listening to her narration. “It is amazing the things you learn about fellow travelers onboard a ship. But, as I understand it, the commander’s problems really started when Sir John openly –in front of other people aboard ship–rejected the lady.”

She paused and waited for her brother to absorb all that he’d been told. His look was one of annoyance when he looked up at her.

“So what does all this have to do with you, Maria? Or to do with me?”

“This Lady Caroline has taken the opportunity, after stealing my ring, to slander the commander’s good name. From what her own daughter told me this morning, the lady is planning to use the ring to convince you that that Sir John acted in a less than desirable manner with regard to me. That he...”