Her news did please her husband’s brother, and it was followed by a messenger from Angus Ferguson. They gathered in the hall that evening so Annabella might read aloud to them the letter she had received from her husband. Seated at the high board, the Countess of Duin unfolded the parchment written in his own hand and began to speak.
“ ‘My good wife, may God have mercy on us all, and upon Scotland. We reached Dunbar, traveling with all due haste, to learn that Bothwell had kidnapped the queen.’ ”
Those listening gasped with shock.
“ ‘They spent several long days and nights locked together in a tower,’ ” Annabella continued, “ ‘and we have now traveled on into Edinburgh, where Bothwell will be granted a divorce from Jean Gordon so he may then wed the queen. They are openly and desperately in love. There is no reasoning with them. I will attempt to make James understand that while my friendship for him remains, I can no longer endanger the Fergusons of Duin by being a public party to this event. The earls are now dividing themselves into two parties that are called the Queen’s Men and the Prince’s Men. Moray is not, as ye may well imagine, among his sister’s adherents. There is certain to be civil war. Look for me to return to Duin as quickly as I can. Your loving husband, Angus Ferguson, Earl of Duin.’ ”
The hall was silent as Annabella laid the parchment upon the table and, reaching for her cup, quaffed the remaining wine in it. “That is all,” she said to those who had been listening. “I hope ye will all pray for Scotland this night,” she told them.
“Madness!” Matthew Ferguson muttered. “And he has involved Angus.”
“He has involved others as well,” Annabella said in an attempt to calm Matthew.
“The others, I wager, are more important, more powerful names, who cannot be punished. We are nae important,” Matthew responded.
“Neither Angus nor the Fergusons of Duin were among the kidnappers. Angus was called to Dunbar after the fact. He is leaving before the marriage is celebrated. His friendship can be taken only so far, even by James Hepburn. His loyalty to Duin is greater than anything else,” Annabella told him. “He will come in just a few more days.”
And he did. The messenger had preceded his master by only two days. Angus Ferguson, however, was grim faced at his arrival. He climbed wearily from his stallion, flinging the reins to a stable lad, and, putting an arm about Annabella, kissed her hard. Reaching up, she caressed his grimy cheek silently. Their eyes met in understanding.
“My lord must bathe and eat,” the Countess of Duin dictated. “Then he will tell us everything.” Without another word she led him into the castle and upstairs to his apartments, where menservants were already seeing that the bathing room tub was filled with steaming water, and feeding the small raised hearth so that the chamber remained warm. Annabella undressed her husband, and as the servants exited she helped him into the stone tub.
Angus closed his eyes briefly and emitted a deep sigh as the hot water sank into his tired body. He opened them as Annabella stroked a wet cloth over his face.
“Ye look exhausted,” she said, meeting his gaze.
“I am. Once I had spoken with James I did not delay in departing Edinburgh,” he said. “God’s blood, sweetheart, this time he has overreached himself. They won’t be satisfied until they have slain him or driven him from Scotland for good and all.”
“He understood why ye had to leave him?” Angus was probably correct in his assessment of the situation, but Bothwell had always been clever at wriggling out of tough situations. It was entirely possible he could outride this storm, and if he did she did not want the Fergusons of Duin on his bad side.
“Aye, he understood. I asked him why he had called me to Dunbar when he did not really need me. Do ye know what he answered? He said that because he knew the great risk he had taken with the queen he wanted one true friend by his side, if only briefly.” The earl’s eyes teared with the memory, but then he continued. “When I said it seemed to me that all of his friends surrounded him at the moment, he laughed. He said they were none of them true friends. They would remain with him as long as it appeared he had a chance of winning, but once it was decided he could not win this particular fight, they would disappear like so many rats scuttling back to their holes.”
“Oh, Angus, how sad!” Annabella said, and she kissed the tears from his cheek.
“He’s wagered it all this time, sweetheart.”
“Does he really love her, or is it just the power he seeks?” she asked.
“Nay, he loves her. Madly. Passionately. And she returns his love. She has already said she will not make him king, or give him the crown matrimonial,” Angus told his wife as she washed him. “He feels their marriage is the only way he can protect her from Moray and the others. Because he is one of them, and because he has always been strong, he thinks he can manage to keep them in check as her husband. I do not. They know she will be influenced by him to a certain degree. Ye know the earls. Each a cock on his own dunghill, crowing. They are afraid of him because individually he has the power to keep them at bay so Mary Stuart may rule. None of them has that charisma. They all need one another to defy her. And now they will with a vengeance.”
“Did they wed?”
“Aye, but it was nae easy. He gave Jean Gordon everything she wanted to be free of her. The queen’s confessor had been forbidden by the pope from performing the marriage, and has withdrawn from her side until she gives Bothwell up, but in this even the Church cannot prevail. The queen is wildly in love for the first time in her life. Darnley was but a foolish infatuation. James Hepburn is another matter altogether. But even Edinburgh’s most distinguished pastors of the Reformed kirk would nae perform the ceremony. They finally found one who accepted a large bribe to formalize the marriage. I left Edinburgh at dawn the morning of the wedding, which was performed at Holyrood’s chapel.”
“But surely now the deed is done Moray and his cohorts will accept the queen’s decision.” She quickly washed his dark hair and rinsed it free of soap.
He arose and stepped from the large stone basin. “I dinna remain to find out, but I doubt it. Moray is but for an accident of birth the man who should be king. He is nae about to give up his position at the top of the hierarchy. He’ll fight, and many will fight wi’ him. The question is, can Bothwell gather as many forces, and overcome him.”
Annabella toweled her big husband dry with several towels warmed on a rack by the fire. “I’ll leave Tormod to get ye dressed again,” she said, referring to Angus’s servant. “They’ll be waiting in the hall to hear all of what ye have told me. Ye’ll nae be going away again soon, will ye?”
“Nay, I’m home to stay, sweetheart.” He pulled her against his naked body, and kissed her a long, sweet kiss. “I’ve missed ye,” he said.
She lingered a moment in his embrace, but then drew quickly away, her hand brushing down his long cock, which was showing strong signs of interest in her. “There is nae time, my lord, for they are waiting in the hall. Afterward, however, I shall be pleased to entertain yon eager laddie. I have some news that should please ye well. By year’s end we’ll hae an heir.” Then, with a quick smile, she turned and left him.
Angus Ferguson wanted to shout with his joy. He was home! Duin was safe! And Annabella was going to give him a son. “Tormod!” he shouted as he opened the door back into his own apartments. “I need clothes!”
She heard him as she hurried down into the hall, and Annabella smiled. While she felt a strong sympathy for Mary Stuart and James Hepburn, she didn’t want the Fergusons of Duin involved in what was certain to be a very volatile matter, and would surely become worse. They would be safe in their haven here in the southwest borders. The summer was almost upon them, and she would have her bairn in safety.
But while peace surrounded Duin, the queen and her bridegroom found themselves facing a great wall of opposition to their marriage. On June fifteenth, a month to the day after their marriage, the forces of the queen were defeated at Carberry. Bothwell fled north into the isles, while Mary was taken first to Edinburgh, and then imprisoned at Lochleven, where she miscarried of twins on the twenty-third of July. This served as proof to all that Mary and Bothwell had been adulterous lovers. The next day the queen was forced to sign a document abdicating her position in favor of her year-old son, James. The little king was crowned five days later at Stirling, and his uncle, James Stewart, now ruled Scotland as the king’s protector. But at Duin none of this was known until several months later.
