Mary Queen of Scots Read Online Free PDF Page B

children.
    We were visiting the Queen’s apartments. There were several of us – Francis, the four Marys, and all the babies with their nursemaids. Both dance masters were there, Monsieur de Rege and the ballet master, Monsieur Balthazar. Queen Catherine has plans for us to learn a ballet. The visit was quite merry, with lots of cakes and glazed tarts. The babies were whirling about like little spinning tops and at least a dozen lapdogs were yapping. Queen Catherine was in a very fine mood. She did not mind the wildness, the confusion of spilled cups, barking dogs, and flying cake crumbs. Princesses Claude and Elizabeth and I were chasing the babies with feather fans, playing a tickle game that Claude had invented and the babies loved. Nostradamus was sitting close to the Queen, and they were regarding us in the game. She was pointing first to Charles, then Elizabeth, and so on. I was not paying much attention, but the four Marys were near, and suddenly I saw them all grow quite still. Mary Fleming, the most delicate, turned a ghastly white. I thought she might faint. I quickly went up to them. “What is wrong?”
    “Nothing!” Mary Beaton said suddenly. “Nothing at all!” She grabbed my feather fan and began chasing little Henry and Claude. It was bedlam. Shrieks of laughter. But I was left wondering. Why did my Marys look so odd? What had Nostradamus whispered to the Queen?

January 20, 1554
    I am still unsettled by the four Marys’ behaviour. They seemed false with me at supper tonight, as if they were trying too hard at merriment. I know they are hiding something from me. I shall go to Mary Seton and ask her. She is an honest and direct sort. Indeed she did not join in the false gaiety tonight but remained very quiet.

January 21, 1554
    Last night before retiring for bed I went to Mary Seton’s chambers. She was almost ready for bed. Her chambermaid Violette, whom she shares with Mary Livingston, was surprised to see me and Mary even more so.
    “What brings you here?” Mary asked, adjusting her nightcap.
    I walked right up to her as she stood by her bed and took both her hands in mine and held them firmly. She looked down at her feet in the embroidered night slippers, as if the flowers stitched of blue- and rose-coloured beads were the most interesting things in the world. I laughed softly. “Even in silence you cannot tell a lie, can you, Mary Seton?” Her fingers tightened in my hands. “Look at me, Mary Seton.” My voice was gentle, but it was the command of a Queen to her subject. She would not refuse. Her steady blue eyes looked into mine. They brimmed with tears! “Mary dear, what is it? What did Nostradamus say?”
    “Oh, Milady. It cannot be true. Of this I am sure.”
    “Just tell me, Mary, and let me be the judge.”
    Mary Seton lifted her chin and looked straight at me. “All the children had been running about and Queen Catherine suddenly said to Nostradamus, ‘You have told me of my children, but what about the one from Scotland? Do you perceive any calamity threatening this fair young head?’ And he answered in a very low voice, but we four Marys heard. ‘Madame,’ he said, ‘I perceive blood.’” Mary Seton’s chin began to quiver, and the tears that brimmed in her eyes fell in silvery tracks down her cheek.
    How can I describe my feelings? A terrible blackness seemed to well up from the pit of my stomach. I grasped Mary Seton’s hands harder, but then from someplace within me there came a strange and mysterious strength. I knew that I must not succumb to fear or tremors or tears. I must show courage. The blood of William Wallace does not run in my veins, but indeed his spirit invades my heart. I shall be a Braveheart worthy of Scotland. “Rest your fears, Mary Seton, and tell the other Marys to rest theirs. I shall speak with Monsieur Nostradamus myself. And remember, not every prophecy is fulfilled. Perhaps we should be grateful, for it will make us all the more