The Beauty of the Mist (34 page)

“Did he?” the Emperor asked seriously. “Did he mistreat you?”

She glared down at him from where she stood. “Look at me, Charles. Do I look like one who has not been treated well?”

“Well, you are different, Maria!” he said.

“I have learned a great deal since the death of my husband,” she answered. “This experience of losing a ship, of not knowing whether we were to live or die, and then of being rescued by the very people that I hoped to escape...this has been a very eye opening experience for me. I have learned that I can no longer be one who will simply accept the decisions that others make for me. I must live my own life. Aye, Charles. I
am
different. I have grown. I have learned to live. And I have returned.”

Maria watched her brother reflect on her words. Then, abruptly, he lifted his green eyes and stared into hers.

“But are you back only in body, Maria? Will you continue to struggle against my will? Against the decisions I have made for you regarding this Scottish match?” Charles stood and took a step toward his sister. “Are you going through this marriage?”

She let out a deep breath and looked steadily into his eyes. “I am here in body, Charles, because that is what you need to complete this alliance. I will not defy your will in this decision...I will not run from this marriage, if that is God’s will.”

Maria saw flashes of doubt darken her brother’s features.

“You betrayed my trust once already. Why should I believe you now?”

“I am your sister,” she whispered. “We are of the same flesh and blood. I may have made a mistake, but I have learned enough for a lifetime. I cannot change the past, and I would not if I had the chance, Charles, because I know I am a better person today than I ever was in the past.”

The Emperor looked deeply into his sister’s eyes. As Maria returned his gaze, she tried to decide whether he was looking at her as someone he’d never known, or simply as a sister he was now starting to understand for the first time. Perhaps it didn’t matter which it was, so long as he recognized her now as a person, and not simply an item to be bartered for a parchment of promises or a few acres of farmland. She raised her chin and looked at him with an expression of cool composure.

“Trust me, my brother, and you’ll benefit by it. This marital alliance was your doing, Charles, not of my choosing. So accept this act of good will on my part, or I’ll be gone. And this time for good.”

Charles took a deep breath and stared down at his sister. The Holy Roman Emperor was not one to be spoken to in ultimatums, and Maria could see the wheels turning inside his head. But whatever he decided, Maria knew she had already succeeded in what she’d wanted to do, and she would be satisfied. For even though he hadn’t given her an answer yet, after this talk Caroline Maule’s words against John would amount to nothing but air with her brother. Thoughts of Scotland flickered through her mind. If she could only be this successful there. She would have to be, for that would be the next place Caroline would try out her malicious designs.

“You’ll join us for dinner,” he commanded.

Maria looked at him as he stood awaiting her answer. He was content with what she’d told him, and that was more than she’d hoped for. She smiled and reached out for his hand. He grasped it warmly.

“I’ll have Count Diego prepare a statement of some sort that will preserve our family’s dignity. Perhaps something about Mother being ill–about you having to go to Castile. The rest they know.”

“I never told them my identity while I was aboard their ship.”

“Perfectly understandable.” He shrugged. “The trauma of losing your ship, of being adrift at sea left you shocked...afraid...ill. You didn’t know friends from foes.”

Maria watched as her brother prepared himself to leave. Suddenly he looked weary from the past day’s excitement.

“At least, beyond this family, I am still the Emperor. Whatever I say, they have to believe.”

The young queen simply nodded, stifling a smile.

“As far as this...woman...what was her name?”

“Caroline Maule,” she answered hesitantly.

“Aye, that’s it. You go and see her for me. Do it before dinner. I don’t want to be bothered by her during the welcoming feast.” The emperor slapped his gloves in the palm of his other hand. “And Maria, give her a glimpse of my new
changed
sister. A quarter hour with you and I am certain she’ll be packing her bags and heading for Scotland on the next ship out. And good riddance, but watch out for her once you get there. I think the Scots are all related to one another somewhere along the line.”

Again Maria nodded. It would be a pleasure to put Caroline in her place. With people like her to deal with, Maria was quite certain that being queen would have its rewards.

“Lastly,” her brother said from the door. “We’ll have to give the commander some type of honor–a medallion or a pension or something–for saving your life.”

Maria returned his gaze, fearful of the words she knew were coming.

“You can handle that task, as well. At dinner.”

Count Diego effortlessly climbed the marble steps and strode into the Bronze Room.

“She is coming, Your Majesty.” His eyes took in the profile of the young queen, sitting at small table composing a letter. A looking glass covered the wall behind her, reflecting the images of six bronze statues of Greek deities which filled the room and added to the impression of power that seemed to emanate from the young woman herself.

Maria lifted her eyes from the empty page before her and turned them to the count. “Does she suspect whom she is meeting with?”

“I told her nothing, Your Majesty. As far as I can tell, she knows nothing of your return and believes that she is being escorted to a private appointment with the Emperor.”

“Thank you,” she whispered simply.

The tall man bowed as he began to leave the room, then as if having second thoughts, he addressed the queen again. “Are you certain that you don’t want me to stay?”

She smiled gently at the man. “I believe I would like to handle this alone.”

“She is quite loud, Your Majesty. From what I can gather, she tries to dominate everyone around her. Then there is the question of her character. I’m sorry to say that I know from my own personal experience with her that the woman is a thief and a liar.” The man paused, searching for the right words. “Perhaps the best way to handle her might be simply to send her back to Scotland, at once.”

Maria pushed back her chair and stood up. “She is with the Scottish delegation that will escort me to my future husband. We will not openly treat her inhospitably nor will we expedite her departure. At least, not for the moment. But we can...” she mulled over her own words. Even though her own power permitted it, it would be wrong to use it to punish Caroline when she herself had been partially responsible for the situation. “I will talk to her first, Count Diego. I’ll advise you if there is anything more that we need to do to reinforce our position with Lady Caroline.”

With an understanding nod, the minister bowed again and departed the room.

Now, left alone once again, Maria took a moment to survey the things that surrounded her. They all represented the height of refinement and taste, yet so hard and unalterable. So regal, she thought sadly. Well, if that is the way of things, so be it. Her eyes drifted back to the letter she had been trying to write. It’s no use, she decided, picking up the parchment and immediately throwing it back down. He would never understand. How could she ever be able to explain why she had withheld the truth, why she had sought his attentions and even had gone so far as to seek his heart, and knowing all the while that she could never have him. No letter could answer those questions satisfactorily.

No written word could explain why her heart was breaking.

When Count Diego announced Lady Caroline, the woman standing by the window never moved. The Scottish woman tossed her long, blonde hair back over her shoulder and stared at the gleaming gold of the richly jeweled coronet. A simple gold band held her own hair in place. The short veil held in place by the coronet hid the woman’s hair, and the mantle hanging that trailed from her shoulders glistened with the embroidered gold design of the Habsburg coat of arms.

A moment passed and Caroline coughed politely to attract the woman’s attention. Caroline wondered if it was customary to see Queen Isabella before being ushered in to see the Emperor. But none of this made sense to her, for the queen had supposedly delivered a daughter only a day earlier. How is it possible that she could be on her feet and receiving her here?

“Pardon me, Your Majesty. I am Caroline Maule,” she announced as the woman before the window continued to ignore her. “If you are not well enough...” The woman at the window turned slightly. “I am here to see the Emperor. He has agreed to receive me.”

As the woman before the window turned to face her, Caroline’s gaze locked on the splendid necklace, the jeweled pendant, the gold cord belt with its glimmering tassels that adorned and held her surcoat at the waist. Her eyes traveled down her dress. The precious jewels sewn into her gown were so large, so radiant–she had seen nothing like it anywhere. Without thinking, Caroline bowed her head and curtsied deeply before the queen.

Watching the bowed head of the woman before her, Maria tried to constrain her distaste for the woman and focus only on what needed to be done.

“The Emperor has asked me to receive you instead. Now, you may rise.”

Maria watched with a keen eye as the other woman raised herself to her full height. She struggled to hide her amusement over the fact that Caroline had not yet discovered her true identity. The Scottish woman still had not looked her in the face, and Maria smiled wryly as Caroline continued to glance furtively at her gown and the adorning gems.

“I am told that you have something of mine that you’d like to return to me.”

The sudden snap of Caroline’s head, the gaping jaw that silently opened and closed, and yet uttered no words conveyed to Maria that she’d been recognized at last.

“I am told you have a ring. A ring that was
stolen
from my cabin.” Maria made sure that the word ‘stolen’ rang out clearly in the chamber.

Caroline was clearly in shock, and failed to answer. Her body swayed slightly and her normally pallid complexion became ashen. She looked like one who had just came face to face with Death himself.

“We wish to make something clear to you, Lady Caroline,” Maria said coolly, keeping her tone of voice low and even. “Even though you are a guest in our land, you are not protected from any punishments for such heinous crimes as you have either committed...or intend to commit. The Emperor is fully cognizant of your designs, and you are a fortunate woman still to be at liberty. And the punishment he has in mind...” The young queen dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “Well, I’ve always found Charles’s punishments far too harsh for my favor. But in your case, it appears, he may just insist.

“Nay...” Caroline shook her head, clasping her hands before her.

“Aye,” Maria asserted. “You would make a fine example of Imperial justice for the rest of the delegation to take home to Scotland. If the punishments and the dungeons of Scotland are anything like those we have here...”

Caroline continued to shake her head slowly from side to side. Maria could see her hands trembling slightly. She took a step closer to the Scottish woman, her low voice taking on an edge of steel.

“We will
not
be trifled with,” Maria warned, her eyes flashing.

Caroline Maule sank to her knees in supplication. “Please, Your Majesty...” she stammered out. Maria fought down her pity–Caroline was still far too dangerous a woman.

“Stand, Caroline,” she commanded, watching as the blonde-haired woman rose unsteadily to her feet. She turned toward the window again.

“The Emperor may be having second thoughts about this union...because of you. How comfortable could he feel, Lady Maule, sending me to your land, knowing I will be surrounded by the likes of you. Imagine his feelings for a moment, if you can. People who steal from their future queen and then are simple enough to try to ask for a reward from her own brother.”

Maria turned and looked on as Caroline gradually regained some of her color. Too much color, she thought. She could see that Caroline was searching the lines of the marble floor for the strength to attack. She waited, and the Scottish woman turned her venomous eyes on her in an instant.

“You were with Sir John,” she hissed accusingly. “You can’t change that. You were aboard the
Great Michael
, and you left the ship with his men to go to his house. You are his woman and a trait...”

“Don’t!” Maria commanded, holding her hand up and shaking her head disapprovingly. “If you say any more, there will be no saving you from your fate, Lady Caroline.”

Once again, the woman’s color was drained from her face.

“It is clear to me that no one of any authority aboard the
Great Michael
esteems you enough to share any information with you, Caroline. The delegation has been informed, and my brother’s ministers have already drafted a letter to King James, summarizing all that occurred and the reasons why certain actions had to take place. Though I certainly have no reason to explain myself to you, I can assure you that Sir John has continued to behave as nothing less than the gentleman he is, and he will be rewarded richly for his gallantry both here and in Scotland.”

Maria’s eyes were direct as she took two steps toward Caroline. Her gaze was steady, but her tone took on a sharper edge as she continued.

“But since we are on the subject of ‘rewards’–and since your attitude could hardly be described as repentant– did I tell you that the punishment for theft from a member of Habsburg family is hundred lashes–in public. A dishonorable spectacle for anyone, but for a noblewoman of your stature, Lady Maule...” Maria paused, her green eyes burning into the woman before her. “But I suppose such a punishment pales in comparison to what would lie in store once you have endured that. Slander of a member of the royal family, the accusation of...what were you about to say? Treason? I believe the last person to speak in such terms was hung, before disemboweling and dismemberment. In fact, his tongue is still nailed to the city gate. But perhaps I can convince Charles that a simple beheading might be more appropriate.