Unknown (2 page)
Authors: Unknown
sir
thomas ogilvy:
son
of Airlie.
colonel
nathaniel gordon:
soldier
of fortune.
colonel
magnus o'cahan:
Irish
lieutenant of Colkitto.
william
keith, seventh earl
marischal:
chief
of Keiths and Covenant commander.
john
mac donald of moidart, captain of clanranald:
great
Highland chief.
alan
cameron of locheil, captain of clan cameron:
great
Highland chief.
ian
lom macdonald:
the
Bard of Keppoch.
PART
ONE
James
Graham stood, tapping
The
toe
of his high-heeled
silken
shoe on the waxed floor, and eyed his fellow men and women with scant
approval. He was not aware that this showed rather plainly - or
indeed, at all - on his handsome features; nor even that impatience
was evident in his toe-tapping. For he was a young man of principle
as well as of determined courtesy, and desired to offend none, except
perhaps in chivalrous fashion and in a suitable cause. But these
people were, in the main, deplorable to a man of any sensibility,
women as well as men, unfortunately. James Graham approved of women,
normally.
That
there were not a few Scots amongst the posturing, painted, scented,
chattering crew, was probably half the trouble. James Graham was
philosophically and broad-mindedly prepared to find the English
courtier more or less like this - just as he had made thoughtful
allowances for the inanities and perversions of Paris, Seville,
Venice, Padua, Florence, and even the Papal Court at Rome, from which
he had just come; but to see Scots like John Maitland, Master of
Lauderdale, with rouged cheeks and painted lips; Patrick Leslie, Lord
Lindores, simpering and ogling behind upraised scented gloves; and
the handsome Elizabeth Murray, though she could be no more than
sixteen, not only with her gown cut so low that her breasts escaped
whenever she stooped or bowed â which she did with marked
regularity - but chose to find her garters in constant need of
adjustment, with consequent extra stooping and disarray; all
this was unedifying. The last might be all very well, indeed perhaps
commendable, in private. But not in public, not in the Palace of
Whitehall, surely. Here it seemed not only a betrayal of sound
Presbyterian Scotland, but in the worst of taste. Not that the
thronging, overdressed crowd found it so, most evidently, since all
were of a similar pattern. As though determined to demonstrate that
the wretched Puritans had no place here. Yet the King was a sober and
religious man, much more godly than was James Graham - and Scots-born
at that That he should tolerate this sort of behaviour at his Court
was scarcely believable. His flighty little French wife, of course,
was otherwise, they said - and the doting Charles denied her nothing.
No doubt this was Henrietta Maria's doing.
The
Graham had had half an hour of this already, and wondered how much
more he could, or should, stand. He was a young man not used to being
kept waiting. Hamilton had said to be here at six prompt. In that
half-hour he had barely spoken to a soul; just stood, apart a little,
feeling out-of-place and somehow conspicuous - which last at least
was no illusion, for James Graham in any company was conspicuous,
of a sheer beauty of countenance which, though wholly masculine and
virile, was allied to a proud grace of bearing that never failed to
draw all eyes - even though fullest appreciation thereof was not
necessarily die reaction of every one of his own sex.
Though
he recognised many, he did not really know anyone here - nor indeed
greatly desired to. Perhaps something of this attitude escaped
him, despite his carefully courteous intentions. Three years on
the Continent had made a stranger of him, even to the Scots present -
and he had been only just of age, after all, when he left on his
rather unusual Grand Tour. Nor had he ever previously visited the
Court at London. It seemed that he had missed little thereby.
His
foot was tap-tapping again, when a voice at his elbow turned him.
'Egad,
James - it's yourself! On my soul, I scarce knew you! I heard you
were home. But..'
'Home,
Johnnie . . .?' the other repeated, high brows higher. But he quickly
relented, and smiled, warmly - and thereby transformed the proudly
beautiful face into one of quite extraordinary attraction and charm.
'It is good to see a kent face - and an honest one! They seem scarce
here! What brings you to Whitehall, Johnnie? A long way from the
Carse of Forth.'
'What
brings anyone to Court, James? The hope of betterment. Of
justice, if you like.' The Lord Kilpont grimaced
His
plain,
boyish features. 'Not that I look like to win either, 'fore God! And
yourself? What brings you, of all men?'
â
Not
betterment. Nor yet justice, I think,' the other returned - and his
slightly scornful enunciation of the word betterment was eloquent.
Then, as so often, he shook his head briefly, as though to throw off
an involuntary reaction in favour of an amended and kinder one. 'I am
sorry that you are not finding success, Johnnie. Or justice. For, i
'
faith, if all I hear is true, that you much deserve. Your father's
ill-treatment was a crying scandal. Are you hoping for a reversal
of the forfeiture ?'
'Nothing
so great. Only some small office of profit, some help with our
creditors. The Customs of Airth and Alloa, perhaps. We are near
penniless, James. Things have gone from bad to worse, while you have
been gone. My father is a done and broken man. He will not last long,
I fear. He is dunned, day in, day out But he is too proud to ask the
King's mercy, or aid. So I come. But to little benefit...'
'Poor
Menteith! I did not know that it was so bad. I heard only snatches of
it all, garbled. In Padua, I was then. This of Menteith is sore
tidings..
â
Hush,
man ! Do not mention that name. Even to breathe the word Menteith
today is next to high treason.
My
lord of
Airih
only,
if you please!'
James
Graham eyed his far-out kinsman with a perplexed frown. 'You mean
this, Johnnie? Surely not! Surely Charles is not thus. A godly man,
all say, and honest. Noble, indeed...'
'Perhaps.
But weak, James - or, if not weak, with great weaknesses.
Stupidities, 'fore God! The worst, that he relies on favourites who
are fools or knaves. More of the first than the other, I do believe -
but the end is the same! Aye, Charles Stewart looks noble enough,
sounds noble - but how noble are his acts? Ask William Graham, my
father!'
Lord
Kilpont, a year younger than his chief, was son and heir to William,
who until two years before had been eighteenth Earl of Menteith,
one of the greatest nobles and proudest names in Scotland; and who,
because in a rash moment, flushed with wine, had been heard to boast
that his own blood was more truly royal than the King's, had been
summarily forfeited, deprived of his ancient earldom with all its
great revenues,, and allowed to retain only his small
barony
of Airth, in the Carse of Stirling, with the scornfully new-minted
title of Earl of Airth - this by King Charles's personal command,
who, on the advice of sundry ill-wishers of Menteith's, was pleased
to sense a threat to his throne and dignity in the Graham's bibulous
boast, true as it was. For the Grahams were of royal descent, and
closer to the main stem of the ancient Scots ruling line than was
Charles Stewart himself. The new Earl of Airth, who should also have
been Earl of Strathearn, a semi-royal and illustrious earldom, was a
ruined man.
The
imputation that the dignified and stately monarch was weak - and
worse, stupid - disturbed James Graham. âI think you mistake,
my friend,' he said. 'His Grace was ill-advised in this, to be sure.
I have not all the truth of it - I was a year gone when it was done,
was I not? All that I may do, to put it right, I will do. But - you
go too far, naming the King weak and stupid. Charles Stewart is no
weakling, no fool, I swear. God forbid!'
'You
have not spoken with him, I think? Even seen him?'
'No.
But all declare him worshipful, wise, good.'
â
I
could name you some who do not!' Kilpont said grimly. But at the
other's expression he wisely changed the subject. 'And you, James -
what do
you
seek
from His Grace?'
'Seek?
I seek nothing. Only to offer him my services. As is my simple
duty,'
â
Your
services... ?'
To
be sure. What else? I am Montrose.'
'Mm.
An
Greumach Mor!
In
Scotland that means much," the Viscount acceded. "But
here... ?'
'It
is in Scotland, naturally, that I would serve him. Not here.' The
other's glance around him was sufficiently eloquent 'Are you of
Hamilton's mind, then, about the King?'
'Hamilton
? Does that one
have
a
mind? Pray, James - of a mercy, do not speak my name in the same
breath with that.,. lickspittle! That empty-headed, ill-disposed,
vapouring toady
I'
'Save
us, Johnnie â what's come to you, man? You were not always so
sour! Myself, I do not greatly love Hamilton - but he is great with
the King. Has his ear. And is the foremost man in Scotland
today, they say.'
'In
Scotland
1
That
mincing popinjay would no more set his dainty foot in Scotland today
than in Muscovy! He is the wont of all the crew of fawning, lying,
sycophants who surround the King. All you may say is that
Scotland is well quit of James Hamilton and his like!' Clearly,
boyish as he still looked, Kilpont was a very different man from the
laughing, heedless twenty-year-old James Graham had left behind him.
Then he paused in his vituperation to ask, 'What was it you meant
about my lord Marquis? His mind, anent the King?'
"Merely
that he warned me that the King was much offended with
Scotland, these days. That I should take care how I mention his
ancient kingdom to His Grace - lest it serve me but ill. Myself, I
cannot believe this. Scotland, after all, is his true realm. Where
he was born, where his line belongs. It is but thirty years since
the Stewarts have sat on this English throne. That he should hate
Scotland is unthinkable . ..'
'So
Hamilton said that?' Kilpont fingered the wispy hair on his chin
which he was trying to grow - with an envious glance at the neatly
luxuriant moustache and trim under the beard of his friend and
chief. 'I wonder why, egad? He has his reasons, that one, no doubt.'
"You
believe it to be untrue, then? Yet you hinted, did you not, that
here my name may mean but little ...'
Montrose
paused, as another man came sauntering up to them, an exquisite
this, in sky-blue satin and brocade, lace, jewelled buckles,
earrings and ivory-handled, shoulder-high, ribboned walking-staff.
'Save
us, Basil - you too!' he exclaimed. 'Got up like a mummer at a fair,
as bad as the rest! I vow, all you require now is a dancing-bear!'
'At
Court, one must be a courtier, my dear James - or nothing! And I
would be
something,
as
you know,' the newcomer declared, laughing, and flourishing a
lace-edged, scented handkerchief. A plump-featured, silky-haired,
genial young man, he pointed, with the head of that ridiculous
staff. You, now - you serve yourself but ill, dressed so. I swear
it! Even the beauteous and poetic Earl of Montrose! You will but
seem to rebuke others - and so smell curst Calvinist to His Majesty.
See if'you do not.'
James
Graham looked down at his own attire, and shrugged. 'I think I
am very well,' he said. 'It served well enough for half the Courts
of Europe. Why not here ?'
'Why
not indeed?' Kilpont agreed - You are the most distinguished-seeming
man in this Audience Chamber, for a wager!'
And
that, in fact, was true. Distinguished was the apt word for this
man. Without seeking to do so, he ever bore himself with a
distinction, a separateness, and assurance of carriage which was
something different again from the lithe natural grace and the fine
features. That he should be dressed all in black, slashed with
silver - even though of satin and velvet -apart from the deep white
lace collar and ruffles at wrists, did further set him apart) and
dramatically so, in the kaleidoscopic riot of colours in that great
hall, although this was in fact his normal style for high occasions.
Truly
said,' the Englishman acceded. 'But distinction can be costly â
against the undistinguished! I have said so before, James - being
not troubled that way myself! But
...
I have not the privilege of this gentleman's name
...
?'
'Ha
- of course. A kinsman, John Graham, Lord Kilpont, heir to the Earl
of Menteith,..'
"A
mercy, James - I told you! Not that. Never that. The name is as
forbidden as that of MacGregor!
Airth,
if you please - to my sorrow!'
'Very
well. Heir to the first Earl of Airth, though eighteenth otherwise!
A sorry story. And this, Johnnie, is my good friend Basil, Viscount
Fielding, who was my companion through most of the lands and
cities of Europe. Heir to my lord Earl of Denbigh.'
Kilpont
nodded, and Fielding made an elaborate leg, with which was
associated a twirling of his staff and a flourish of the
handkerchief.
'Honoured,'
the latter commented. "You Scots are so deucedly good at
figures! I fear that I could never count. Eighteenth, you said? And
that from the fifth Earl of Montrose
...
!'
"But
eighth Lord Graham, and twenty-third chief of the name,
An
Greumach Mor!'
Kilpont
interpolated carefully.
'Quite
~ oh quite! As I say - I never could add. As well, since my father
is one of the new men. The first Earl,
Makes
it easy for me, you see...'
'Enough
of such nonsense,' Montrose said. 'The English can count, I think,
as well as we, when it comes to most matters. Gold pieces, for
instance. Acres. Houses. Servants.
Pay
no heed to Basil's mockery, Johnnie - his tongue is the worst of
him. For myself, it is the
King's
counting
that concerns me. Of time! Hamilton said to be here by six
o'clock. Now it Is nearer seven.'
'His
Majesty never appears before seven, I am told,' Fielding
mentioned. 'He is a staid man, of set custom and habit. Not like his
appalling and unpredictable sire. Ah - forgive me! He was a Scot
also, of course! My tongue, again
..
'Is
that truth? That the King never comes before seven o'clock? Then why
did Hamilton have me here at six?' James Graham's pleasantly
modulated, almost musical, voice, with the slight Highland
intonation, went level, thin.
â
I
told you. The man's a fool,' Kilpont insisted. 'Hamilton, Or
...
perhaps he designed to keep you waiting!'
'Hamilton?
The Marquis? Is he your sponsor, James?
'
Fielding
asked. 'A strange man as I should know! My brother-in-law, no less !
Married Margaret my sister - at the age of seven
'
'Sponsor,
no.' That was short. 'Montrose needs no sponsor with his liege lord.
I but sought his guidance, as how conveniently to approach His
Grace. We are related at a distance. And his brother, Lanark,
was with me at college . â
A
sudden fanfare of trumpets from without interrupted him. The chatter
in the huge gilded apartment stilled, and all eyes turned towards
the top end, where great doors were flung open. Two files of Yeoman
of the Guard, in scarlet and black, marched in, pikes on shoulders,
to pace onward down the chamber. Right and left before them the
company fell back, leaving a clear and red-lined central avenue.
Behind, a gorgeously apparelled usher in heraldic tabard stalked in,
and as the fanfare died away, thumped his rod on the floor.
'Silence
for His most excellent Majesty Charles, by the Grace of God, King!'
he cried. And everywhere men bowed low and women sank in deepest
curtsy.
It
was all highly impressive, dignified, suitable. Unfortunately,
what followed was less so. A crowd of men came surging into the
hall, some backing, sidling, even skipping, as they eddied round a
small central group of three, bowing, flourishing gesticulating, in
a fatuous display of adulation. And within this capering perimeter
the trio sauntered, one tall, in a peach-yellow satin, one short and
tubby in rich, vaguely clerical habit, and one slender and slight in
purple velvet, wearing a wide-brimmed black hat with a large
curling golden ostrich-feather. Because of the hat, and the
fact that its wearer was not very tall, Montrose, like most others,
could not see the man's features behind his escort.
If
this entrance lacked something in dignity, no less so did the
waiting company's reception. Straight from their bowing and
curtsying, there was a jostling rush forward, men and women pushing
and elbowing each other to be foremost on either side of the lines
of inward-facing Yeomen of the Guard. James Graham, astonished,
found himself shouldered aside in the scramble, and although he had
been waiting in a good position all this while, now was quickly
edged into the background.
