Orva said nothing more, for who was she to converse casually with a king? They waited. And then a knock upon the door of the king’s library came, and it opened to reveal two sturdy men-at-arms. Between them was Mistress Marjory. They half dragged her before James Stewart. The woman looked terrified out of her mind, and briefly the king felt sorry for her, but then he considered that if she had played any part in Ce-ce’s abduction, she should be frightened of him. He was her king, and his pregnant wife was distressed by her best friend’s absence and possible fate. He did not invite the woman to sit. Instead he stood, and Mistress Marjory quailed as he towered over her.
“Well, madam, and what have you to say to me? Are you involved in this chicanery? The truth now!”
“I . . . I was attacked,” Mistress Marjory said. Her legs began to shake.
“That we know,” the king said sternly. “What I have asked you is if you were involved in Lady Cicely’s abduction, madam. Orva thinks you were, and I believe her instincts are correct. Tell me the truth! If you do your punishment will be mild. But lie to me, madam—and I will know if you do—then my wrath will be most severe.” James Stewart looked the frightened shopkeeper directly in the eye and saw pure terror reflected back at him. It astounded him, for he did not think himself as someone so fearful. And then he realized it was his persona as king of Scotland that awed the woman before him. He would not get the truth if he alarmed her too greatly. He softened his tone. “I suspect you must have had a most excellent reason for doing what you did,” he said. “Could no one else have helped you?” he asked a bit more carefully.
She shook her head, and silent tears began to slide down her pale, plump cheeks. “I’ve done my best since my husband grew ill and died,” she began. “I had to take care of the shop, do all he had done if we weren’t to starve, and mother my bairns as well.”
“How many bairns do you have?” the king asked quietly.
“Two, a lass born less than a year after we were wed. But the lad was slow in coming, my lord. Lucy was eight before he was born.”
“Tell me what happened,” the king prodded gently.
“Lucy was to watch after her brother while I managed the shop and the apprentices. The shop will be Robbie’s one day, and I must tend it well until he can take on the responsibility for himself. I promised my husband on his deathbed that I would do so. But my daughter met a lad, and while my son played they engaged their time in . . .” Mistress Marjory ceased her narrative briefly, and flushed.
“Ahh,” said the king. “Aye, madam, you need not say it. I understand. Did he get the lass with child?”
Mistress Marjory nodded silently, hanging her head in shame for her daughter’s transgressions.
“And the lad would not accept the responsibility of his actions, eh?” the king said.
The shopkeeper nodded again, now saying, “And thenhecame. He wanted my help in what he said was a small matter. I said until I could help my daughter I could not aid him. He asked me to tell him my woes, and if it were possible he would help us. So I did. He listened, and said to show his good faith he would see done what needed to be done if I swore I would then do what he needed me to do.”
“You agreed,” the king said.
“I did, my lord. He found Torcull, and had him wed to my daughter. Her child will be born soon, but ’twill not be a bastard. It matters not that Torcull ran off afterwards. My grandchild will be honest-born. But then my deliverer put me further in his debt, for he paid school fees for Robbie so he could learn to read, write, and do his sums. He said the laddie couldn’t run the shop one day without certain knowledge.” Then Mistress Marjory began to cry again.
Orva had listened to the shopkeeper’s entire recitation quietly, but she could no longer remain silent. Jumping up from her seat in the corner, she placed herself directly before Mistress Marjory. “Who ishe?” she demanded to know. “Who is this savior of yours? And why did he abduct my mistress?”
“Why he did what he did I do not know,” the woman answered honestly, “but I do know who he was, for he told me so that I might send to him when your mistress was to visit my shop. He is the Douglas of Glengorm, a border lord.”
“A borderer? A rough borderer? Sweet Jesu help my poor innocent mistress!” Orva cried. Then she rounded on the woman before her. “Oh, ’tis a wicked creature you are! My poor child stolen away to God only knows what kind of a fate!”
“I did what I had to do to protect my own family,” Mistress Marjory defended herself. “Was I to allow a poor innocent to be born withthe stain of bastardy upon it? Besides, he said your mistress would not be harmed. Lovesick he was, I can tell you. Like a green lad with his first lass.” She turned to the king. “What else could I have done, my lord, but what I did? My husband’s brother would take the shop from me if he could, and give it to his son. And what would happen to my Lucy and her bairn? What would happen to my son and to me? My difficulties did not arise from any mismanagement. They arose from a silly lass who has since learned her lesson, to her regret.”
“But you betrayed Lady Cicely, and in doing so you have distressed my queen, who will soon deliver Scotland’s heir. For that you must pay a price, Mistress Marjory,” the king said quietly. Jailing the poor woman would not help, the king realized.
“I but defended my family, my lord, as any man would have done,” she replied.
“You have probably cost my mistress a good marriage!” Orva snapped angrily. “Do you think the proud Gordons will have her now after this misadventure?”
“Your mistress, if the gossip is truth, is a wealthy young woman. And the Gordons of Huntley are not averse to adding to their wealth,” the shopkeeper said sharply. “They will wait to be certain she is not with another man’s child, and then they will have her happily. Her gold will buy her a husband.”
“If your wench had spent less time on her back—” Orva began, but the king raised his hand to silence the two women.
“Mistress Marjory, for the next twelve months, one-quarter of the profit from your shop will be forfeit to the queen,” James Stewart said.
“My lord! There is barely any profit to be had at all! How am I to feed my children, my grandchild?” the shopkeeper protested.
“But when it is known that your lace and ribbon is sought by the queen your business will increase,” the king said cannily. “If I punish you publicly for what you have done no one will patronize your shop, madam. You betrayed the queen’s friend. While my wife wouldunderstand your dilemma, she would not forgive you what you have done without some form of punishment. I shall send my man for an accounting monthly. Do not attempt to cheat me, for if you do I will show you no mercy at all.” He turned to the two men-at-arms. “Return Mistress Marjory to her establishment, and you will say nothing of what you have heard this day. I will tolerate no gossip in this matter.”
The men-at-arms spoke in unison. “Aye, my lord!” They understood that this king was not be trifled with, for he did not make idle threats. They escorted the shopkeeper briskly from the king’s library.
“Fetch my secretary to me,” James Stewart instructed his page. Then he turned to Orva. “I will send to Sir William Douglas, who is Glengorm’s overlord. Your mistress is safe, Orva. If this impetuous young laird is as lovesick as the shopkeeper claims he is, he will not harm your lady. I seem to recall my wife mentioning him briefly. Come, let us go and speak with the queen and reassure her,” the king said as he led the way from his library and walked briskly to his wife’s chambers.
I wish I felt reassured,Orva thought to herself as she followed him.
