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Excerpt 4:
August 8, 1561
Exhilarated after a successful hunt that presaged more successes, Elizabeth was happy to let a small amount of business interrupt her Summer Progress. She had agreed to receive the Scottish Ambassador, William Maitland of Lethington, at Henham Hall. With the hunting lodge limiting her company to two hundred, an invitation showed clear royal favor.
She smiled as she gave him her hand to kiss. Although a bit dour, Maitland was a decent wit. A good choice on the part of the Scottish Lords.
“Greetings, Your Majesty,” he said as he bowed. “I bring you the goodwill of all Scotland.”
“Which is returned by English friends,” she said as she waved a hand to indicate the people crowded around her chair of estate, “in a good mood from our leisure.”
“The rarest moments of all,” Maitland said. “Again, thank you.”
“You are always welcome,” she said. “Especially if you come to tell me your Queen has finally ratified the Treaty of Edinburgh.” Surely that was why he rushed to join the progress.
Maitland bowed again. “Alas, Your Majesty, my queen requires some clarifications before she does so.”
The air thickened. Elizabeth clenched her fists, ready to quash this conversation before it ruined the day. “The terms were agreed more than a year ago. And they are quite simple.”
He raised his hands. “My mistress is quite happy to give up her claim to the English throne during Your Majesty’s lifetime. But she wishes to make it clear that she will inherit it afterwards.”
Mary wanted to be named successor. The one thing Elizabeth was not willing to do for anyone, and certainly not for Mary Stuart.
“The treaty has no bearing on the English succession. Again, I must insist she ratify the terms that were negotiated for her.”
“The treaty forbids my queen from ever asserting her claim. Your Majesty’s youth makes it too easy to forget that my queen is nine years younger than you and—”
“And so you would put me in a winding cloth before my time?” Elizabeth’s eyes flashed a warning. “If I had known that was the purpose of your visit today, I would have refused to see you. You forget I know what it is like to live as heir apparent. I know what danger my very existence presented to my sister during her reign. When the time is right, we may have this discussion, but I am not prepared to have it now. Nor do I need to. She is legally obligated to ratify the treaty.”
Maitland’s face did not lose its shifty smile. “Before she does, she wishes to confer with her Lords in Scotland. This is what I came to tell—”
“The Scottish Lords are the ones who negotiated the treaty in the first place. Their counsel has already been given.”
“Ah, but not yet to her. As I started to say, she will be back in Scotland quite soon, and they will be able to reassure her on all the points. It is but a small delay.”
She will be back in Scotland. Elizabeth could not suppress a glance at Cecil. Neither of them had believed Mary Stuart would return to a land she could not remember and would not enjoy. “She plans to leave France? Abandon the Continent?”
“Yes, within the month.”
“I thought there were marriage proposals being negotiated,” Elizabeth said.
“There are. But my queen is eager to see the land of her birth, the land of her blood. It is important for rulers to know their people.”
Elizabeth felt crowded by the idea of the Scottish Queen sharing England’s island. For the first time Elizabeth understood England’s northerners, always fearful of a Scottish invasion. “As long as she keeps herself to her side of our border, we will get along well,” she said.
“With one small exception,” Maitland said. “She hopes you will allow her to pass through England for her journey home. It will be much easier for her to go by land as much as possible.”
“While she still claims this land as her own, my answer is no,” Elizabeth said. She heard snorts, and knew it was people covering up sharp intakes of breath. Yes, yes, a refusal was petty, but it was well deserved. Elizabeth would be foolish to give any quarter to a usurper.
Maitland recovered quickly and adopted a sarcastic tone. “Does Your Majesty intend to use duress to keep a widow away from her home? Must she worry about being intercepted en route by English ships?”
Elizabeth could not bring herself to relent. Mary refused to renounce her claim. No matter that the treaty’s provisions had been negotiated by men who did not represent her interests – they had represented the interests of Scotland, and that should have been enough to bind Mary.
Would you let it bind you? Elizabeth’s inner voice asked. She ignored it. She was angry and resentful, and if she sounded like a child, so be it. She could do as she chose, even if her choice had few teeth. Elizabeth would never actually interfere with Mary’s voyage, but she had no need to make it pleasant. Let Mary take the sea route directly to Leith, where the rough waters would cause her to vomit over the rails. Let that hint at her new life.
“Will you insult France as well?” Maitland continued. “The Scottish Queen will be escorted by the Grand Prior and the Constable of France. Your refusal also runs to them.”
Maitland’s raised nose and triumphant smile made it clear he thought to have bested Elizabeth, but the foolish man had only opened a door. The Constable, Anne de Montmorency, hated the Guises as much as Catherine de Medici did. This was Elizabeth’s chance to court the new power in France, and the insight resurrected all the pleasures of the hunt. “France has signed the treaty renouncing any claim to my land,” she said with a smile. “Their representatives are welcome to return through England. We would love to receive them at Greenwich.” At Maitland’s shocked look, she patted his arm. “But we will tender the invitation ourselves.”
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