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Authors: Barbara Kyle
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good there.”
Scotland. She remembered her parents whispering at the supper table about Scotland. “Who is the Earl of Arran?”
He looked at her as if to say, You don’t even know that?
She tried to keep the angry frustration out of her voice. “As you said, I’ve been away a long time.”
They had reached Adam’s destination, the Old Swan Stairs, one of the city’s oldest wharfs, and they stopped at the street edge that overlooked the busy jetty. Seagulls shrilled over the fishwives at their stalls and over the housewives and servants shopping for the day’s catch. On the water stairs wherrymen beckoned customers into their boats. A young lordling in a crimson cape trimmed with fox fur led a painted lady by the hand into a tilt boat and they disappeared under its canopy.
“You’ve come home at a crisis, Bel,” Adam said. “There’s no other way to put it. Look around you. By spring, London could be occupied by French troops.”
She gaped at him. The thought was appalling. “How? Why?”
“The Auld Alliance.”
“The what?”
“That’s what the Scots call it. Goes back over two hundred and fifty years. A pact between France and Scotland, signed by every one of their monarchs for over two centuries, as a hedge against us . They’ve sworn that if either country is attacked by England, the other will invade English territory.”
“But I don’t understand. England hasn’t attacked anyone.”
“That’s not the point. Over the centuries the alliance has fused the two countries together. Twenty years ago the Scottish King James married a daughter of the mightiest family in France, the house of Guise, the power behind the French throne, and since then Scotland’s been a vassal state of France. Even more so since James died with no son, so his baby daughter, Mary Stuart, became Queen of Scots. The French sent her to Paris and married her to their king’s son. That son became king a few months ago, so the sixteen-year-old Queen of Scots is now Queen of France, too.”
“Then who rules in Scotland?”
“Her mother, Marie de Guise. She governs as the Queen Regent. And back in Paris her Guise brothers, five of them, from dukes to bishops, advise their teenage king. They’re the real rulers of France. But here’s the thing. Not all Scots have been happy with France running Scotland. Their nobles have been seething for years at how Frenchmen dominate the court in Edinburgh, and the Protestants among them have been seething at Catholic rule. Now they’ve come together under a leader named John Knox. He’s not a lord or even a gentleman, just a common Scot, a Protestant preacher. But he’s a fiery one, and clever, and he’s organized their forces, and a month ago they rose up against their French overlords. The French responded by sending thousands of soldiers to Scotland. They’re about to put down the rebels. That’s—”
“Adam, stop. What has all this got to do with England? You said there’s a crisis. How?”
“Because of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots. She has Tudor blood, and since Europe’s Catholics consider our queen illegitimate—damn their hides—the Queen of Scots has declared to all the world that she is the rightful queen of England. Do you see? The Guise family, running both France and Scotland, are poised to crush the Scottish rebels and then look south to the bigger prize—us. They’re using the rebellion emergency as a chance to flood our northern border with troops as a first step to invading England and putting Mary Stuart on the throne.”
Invasion . The word held terror for Isabel. Images of blood splashed her mind—slaughtered English defenders, raped Englishwomen, scorched English fields.
“The Scottish lords have asked England for help in their fight,” Adam went on. “Our Queen has been reluctant to take sides, but she did meet secretly with the rebel Earl of Arran because he has a claim to the Scottish throne. Her support of him will give the rebels
Scotland. She remembered her parents whispering at the supper table about Scotland. “Who is the Earl of Arran?”
He looked at her as if to say, You don’t even know that?
She tried to keep the angry frustration out of her voice. “As you said, I’ve been away a long time.”
They had reached Adam’s destination, the Old Swan Stairs, one of the city’s oldest wharfs, and they stopped at the street edge that overlooked the busy jetty. Seagulls shrilled over the fishwives at their stalls and over the housewives and servants shopping for the day’s catch. On the water stairs wherrymen beckoned customers into their boats. A young lordling in a crimson cape trimmed with fox fur led a painted lady by the hand into a tilt boat and they disappeared under its canopy.
“You’ve come home at a crisis, Bel,” Adam said. “There’s no other way to put it. Look around you. By spring, London could be occupied by French troops.”
She gaped at him. The thought was appalling. “How? Why?”
“The Auld Alliance.”
“The what?”
“That’s what the Scots call it. Goes back over two hundred and fifty years. A pact between France and Scotland, signed by every one of their monarchs for over two centuries, as a hedge against us . They’ve sworn that if either country is attacked by England, the other will invade English territory.”
“But I don’t understand. England hasn’t attacked anyone.”
“That’s not the point. Over the centuries the alliance has fused the two countries together. Twenty years ago the Scottish King James married a daughter of the mightiest family in France, the house of Guise, the power behind the French throne, and since then Scotland’s been a vassal state of France. Even more so since James died with no son, so his baby daughter, Mary Stuart, became Queen of Scots. The French sent her to Paris and married her to their king’s son. That son became king a few months ago, so the sixteen-year-old Queen of Scots is now Queen of France, too.”
“Then who rules in Scotland?”
“Her mother, Marie de Guise. She governs as the Queen Regent. And back in Paris her Guise brothers, five of them, from dukes to bishops, advise their teenage king. They’re the real rulers of France. But here’s the thing. Not all Scots have been happy with France running Scotland. Their nobles have been seething for years at how Frenchmen dominate the court in Edinburgh, and the Protestants among them have been seething at Catholic rule. Now they’ve come together under a leader named John Knox. He’s not a lord or even a gentleman, just a common Scot, a Protestant preacher. But he’s a fiery one, and clever, and he’s organized their forces, and a month ago they rose up against their French overlords. The French responded by sending thousands of soldiers to Scotland. They’re about to put down the rebels. That’s—”
“Adam, stop. What has all this got to do with England? You said there’s a crisis. How?”
“Because of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots. She has Tudor blood, and since Europe’s Catholics consider our queen illegitimate—damn their hides—the Queen of Scots has declared to all the world that she is the rightful queen of England. Do you see? The Guise family, running both France and Scotland, are poised to crush the Scottish rebels and then look south to the bigger prize—us. They’re using the rebellion emergency as a chance to flood our northern border with troops as a first step to invading England and putting Mary Stuart on the throne.”
Invasion . The word held terror for Isabel. Images of blood splashed her mind—slaughtered English defenders, raped Englishwomen, scorched English fields.
“The Scottish lords have asked England for help in their fight,” Adam went on. “Our Queen has been reluctant to take sides, but she did meet secretly with the rebel Earl of Arran because he has a claim to the Scottish throne. Her support of him will give the rebels
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