Unicorn Rampant (43 page)

"Indeed, yes," Simson nodded. And, glancing at Erskine, "We were not even required to pay for our board, although we ate at Sir
J
ohn's table, as we have to pay for poor food in our cells at
Stirling
Castle."

Dunfermline coughed. "Enough! Enough, do you hear? Master Primrose—I think that we have no further need for these prisoners. Remove them."

Although he was indeed very doubtful whether he should thank his late captives, John smiled and nodded to them as they were led out and wished them well.

"Sir John Stewart," the Chancellor resumed. "You have heard the testimony of these prisoners, who were put in your charge, for offences against the King's Majesty, that you not only treated them very kindly but actually fed them at your own table. Do you consider that conduct suitable in a governor of one of His Majesty's fortresses and prisons?"

"I do, my lord. These ministers are not common felons. They may see their duty to God differently from your lordships, or even myself, but they are surely not to be treated like robbers or breakers of the peace."

"That is not for
you
to decide, but His Majesty's judges and magistrates. Your duty was to treat them as offenders against His Majesty's commands. This, most evidently, you have not done."

"As evidently, my lord, as that these two ministers were sent to Dumbarton for no other reason than to try to trap me! No doubt, if I had treated them
harshly,
that likewise would be considered an offence? Even though they appear to receive harsh treatment at Stirling!"

"Sir John—such talk will do you no service!"

"Do I require your service, my lords? I am here as the King's appointed Keeper of Dumbarton Castle, who has had occasion to dismiss his deputy and appoint another. That is all. The
service,
it seems, is required by William Middlemas!"

"That is a matter for judgment, sir—
our
judgment. I think that I may say that we have heard enough. You will now leave us to consider our decision. It should not take very long."

Bowing curtly, John marched out to the ante-room, followed by Sandy. There was no sign of either Middlemas or the ministers.

They had time only to exchange agreement that it was all a contrivance, arranged beforehand, a plot to discredit John, presumably for some good reason which involved these selected members of the Privy Council, when they were summoned back into the chamber. Obviously no large discussion had taken place.

"Sir John Stewart," the Chancellor said, as though in a hurry now to have it all done with. "We find the contract between the Duke of Lennox and the man Middlemas to be valid and binding, however unsuitable as an arrangement and bargain concerning a house and castle of the King. Also that since it was between the Keeper of Dumbarton and the Deputy-Keeper, it must apply to the Duke's successor as Keeper—yourself. Therefore this Council finds that you owe William Middlemas in the sum of 3,000 merks, and that these moneys must be paid by you to him. Since it is a large sum, we will allow until Whitsunday next for you to find the moneys to pay the said Middlemas. You understand?"

"I understand, my lords, that you choose to support a malefactor and notorious character who held the King's castle unlawfully against the King's Governor, rather than support the said King's Governor. No doubt for your own reasons. His Majesty will be interested to hear of this, surely."

"Your attitude confirms our belief that you are an unsuitable person to be Governor of Dumbarton," Dunfermline went on heavily. "We accept that Middlemas behaved wrongfully in holding the castle against you, and that such action justified his dismissal. But that does not invalidate the money arrangement. As to your treatment of the prisoners just interviewed, we find it lacking in due judgment and a further indication of your unsuitability for the position you presently hold. We will communicate such findings to His Majesty. That is all, Sir John. You may retire."

Without a word, John swung on his heel and left them.

Within a couple of hours he had said goodbye to Sandy and was on his way southwards at last. He felt that it was quite important that he reached Whitehall before the Privy Council's courier. Also, he could do with working off his feelings and frustrations in hard riding.

Exactly a week later, in the vicinity of Huntingdon, John learned that Sir Walter Ralegh had been beheaded three days earlier and that mobs were rampaging in London streets miscalling the King and all his works

15

Knowing his sovereign-lord and guessing that if there was trouble in London, James would not linger at Whitehall, John made a slight diversion by Enfield and, sure enough, found the court at Theobalds again, and in no carefree state. The King was not only uneasy in his mind of the effects on the nation of the execution of Ralegh, but in trouble with the English bishops, of all people—this over his plans to marry Charles to the Infanta of Spain, and the Church's fears that this would inevitably lead to an increase of Catholic influence in England, the more alarming to them in that the Queen, who still lingered on although ever weakening, was now trafficking with Catholic priests and confessors and had even refused to see the Archbishop of Canterbury; so that Charles, who ever took his cue from his mother rather than his father, might well be affected with the poison of Catholicism already, before any Spanish match. Moreover, the King was suffering from gout—and when James suffered, all suffered.

John had all this unloaded upon him by his father whenever he arrived—and rather got the impression that the ducal eloquence might be partly spurred on by a reluctance to get to grips with the subject of Dumbarton and Middlemas. However, his son was learning in a hard school and was not to be sidetracked.

"Why did you not warn me about Middlemas and your agreement to pay him all that money?" he cut in, presently, on his sire's catalogue of woes.

"Ah, yes—Middlemas. That man was ever a trial," Ludovick conceded. "I had rather forgotten him—and been glad to, you understand, John. It was all a long time ago . . ."

"You mean that you were glad t
o put off the responsibility
of dealing with him on to me! That is why you gave me the Dumbarton governorship?"

"No, no, lad. You required a position at court, to give you some standing. Also, I had not been able to deal with Dumbarton properly, for long. That was why so much was left to Middlemas. I thought that your fresh hand on the tiller
..."

"But you did not tell me of this hold Middlemas had on you. Of
3,000 merks. That is £2,000, a deal of money, more money than I have ever possessed! Why, Father—why?"

Ludovick looked uncomfortable and took refuge in vagueness. "It was an old story. Foolish, no doubt. I was not . . . proud of it. And it might well never have come to anything. There was no point in bringing it up unless Middlemas did. And he had not mentioned it.
.."

"Only four or five years. You ought to have told me."

"Perhaps. But I did not know that you would go at it like a bull at a gate, Johnnie—dismissing the man almost as soon as you saw him!"

"He was misbehaving shamefully. I told you. I could not leave him there. And clearly he had been misbehaving for long. You must have known it."

The Duke spread his hands. "Underlings often do misbehave, John. You will learn that. Many of the King's servants misbehave, in one way or another, I know well. And so does James. One cannot watch them all the time. I, for one, have so many offices to fill."

"Why did you sign that paper, Father, committing yourself to pay so much money? There must have been a reason."

"I.
..
ah . . . did it without due thought, I fear. A mistake, I see now. Middlemas was very pressing. He was doing all the work, relieving me of much trouble and concern. It seemed but fair that he should have some security."

"My mother thinks that Middlemas probably had some hold over you. That you perhaps had been doing something, well, mistaken. It may be—taking more of the moneys collected than was your due share? And Middlemas knew of it and forced this on you, lest he tell the Treasury? And this, of course, gave the man himself a clear run to misbehave on his own! Was that it?"

Ludovick wagged his head. "Mary thinks that, does she?
I
am . . . sorry."

"You do not deny it, then?"

"Nor do I admit it, lad. I do not need to deny or admit anything, to you or other. I have had many responsibilities thrust upon me since I came to England with James—and must make the wherewithal to carry them out as best I can. For James certainly will not see to it. You must have discovered that, by now, in your own dealings with him. In this of the paper monopoly, for instance, with Cockayne and the Dutchman and the rest—are
your
hands entirely clean? Aye, and in the matter of the Queen's jewels! James demands service—but leaves the servants to pay for it how they may. It is time that you learned that."

"I cannot pay £2,000. Without defrauding the tax-collection. And that I will not do."

"Do not be
over
righteous, lad."

"It is scarce a matter of righteousness. The Mars want me out of Dumbarton, Lord Erskine in especial. You did not tell me, either, how close linked he was to Madderty and the Drummonds. He thinks that Dumbarton should be his. They will be watching me now, like hawks. So even if I did seek to take overmuch from the taxation and customs, the Treasury would have me."

"Unless the Treasury was . . . accommodated!"

John nodded. "So that is it! I wondered whether it would come to that. You did that—and now it is not being continued? And I am in trouble."

"Scarcely trouble, Johnnie—a mere matter of adjustment! Trouble is something a great deal greater, I can assure you. One learns to give and take, trim one's sails to the winds that blow—or the ship capsizes! I am Lord High Admiral of Scotland, so I ought to know! I have had to do that all my life. I do not expect that yon, lad, are the one exception to the rule."

It was John's turn to shake his head. Looking at his illustrious father, he perceived, as never quite before, that the only duke in two kingdoms, the Lord High Admiral, the Master of the Horse and all the rest, was in fact, however pleasant a man and good company, weak, weaker than himself, his illegitimate son. Perhaps he was indeed more Mary Gray's son than Ludovick Stewart's? In that moment he was almost sorry for this father of his, knew a sympathy— and asked himself whether
he
perhaps might suffer in some degree from self-righteousness, as hinted? He sighed and shrugged.

"I think that I would give up this governorship of Dumbarton here and now—were it not that that would seem like handing all over to the Erskines and Drummonds," he said.

"That is the right spirit, boy! You will make do, well enough, believe me. I will help. See you, as to this money, I will be in a position to pay it off soon. In a year, say. Meantime, you keep Middlemas quiet by paying him a good interest on it. Say one merk in ten—three hundred merks. He will not refuse that, I swear! I can help you find that—if you will not pay it out of the taxation."

"M'mm. Where is this access of riches to come from, Father? In a year?"

"It is a secret, as yet, lad. So
let it go no further. But James
has decided that I
must
rema
rry. Although he is dead set on
this Spanish marriage, that is for the do
wry moneys. He is
convinced that Charles is unlikely to ever have a son, and
there is no nearer heir for the succession than myself. He has
chosen a rich widow fo
r me! The second-richest in the
kingdom, they do say—not the richest, who is for Steenie!
So I am to wed the Countess of Hertford, Frances Howard.
This will also help to dri
ve a wedge between the Howards,
our master thinks! The l
ady has already borne two sons,
so she is sufficiently ferti
le! And she is renownedly . . .
generous!"

John stared. "And, and you agree to this? To marry again? And to little more than a stranger. When my mother looks on you as
her
husband!"

"John—we have been over all this before. You know that Mary will not marry me—never would. And, if she did, James would not permit it. This third marriage will make no difference between your mother and me—the others have not. Whether I will produce an heir on this female, God alone knows! But my money problems should be at an end, at least. And that is not unimportant. We cannot all marry for heartfelt love—as I think you will discover soon enough!" John was silent.

"Now—tell me about your Privy Councillors. Alexander Seton, the Chancellor, is my friend. He would not be happy in this business, I think?"