The Virgin's Daughter (Tudor Legacy #1)(19)
“I apologize,” he said, in the same collected voice that did not sound at all apologetic. “I would never begrudge my sister happiness. But I confess I hope her happiness will be found here, with her family and her religion.”
“Ah, so it is the Catholic aspect from which you recoil, as much as the distance.” Mary’s hauteur conveyed her continued warning to not trespass on her goodwill. “I do not suppose that is a subject on which we could find agreement.”
He hesitated, before saying thoughtfully, “I wonder, Your Majesty. Not all minds are as fixed as the fanatics’. And peace is a state greatly to be desired, worth almost any price.”
Interesting. Mary pondered that intriguing answer from the young earl for some time afterward. The Courtenays were outwardly devoted Protestants, as befit the dear friends of Elizabeth. She would have expected from them the same disdain that other English Protestants turned on her, considering her Catholic faith primarily an inconvenience that had cost her Scotland as much as her disastrous marriage to Bothwell. But it was her faith that would free her. How could heretics understand the power of truth? Understand it or not, England would be forced to reckon with its undeniable power once the Nightingale Plot released her from the bonds of this hated imprisonment.
And perhaps, in that new England, there would be more families than she could guess ready to grasp any hand that brought peace, whether their faith was devotedly pure or not. She would have to sound Stephen Courtenay on that subject.
But first the Nightingale Plot must advance. She consulted later that evening with her confessor, who was in all her confidences, about the delicate structure of a plot that, this time, must succeed. How could it not? For the first time since her ignominious flight from Scotland in 1568, Mary had more on her side than just her French family. The stars had aligned, and now Catholics in both France and Spain were united in the cause of freeing her from English captivity. What followed her freedom might still be a matter for debate among the competing parties, but Mary was confident in her course.
“And our timing?” Mary asked. “King Philip’s visit is definitely set?”
“The Spanish king will arrive in England in late June,” her confessor said, “date dependent on the sailing weather. Philip and his entourage will spend three weeks at court, to visit his daughter and to discuss with Queen Elizabeth the marital matters of Princess Anne as well as their own. It is believed the divorce will be finalized before he sets sail for home.”
“It had better be,” Mary said drily. “We need Philip well and truly separated from Elizabeth to be certain of his support.”
“We’ll have it,” her confessor answered confidently. “The Lord is watching over this endeavour, Your Majesty. There is no need to fear. Righteousness cannot be denied.”
But it can often be delayed, Mary thought cynically. And there were any number of wicked men and women who would do whatever it took to keep her in England until she died.
She tried to ignore the fact that one of those wicked opponents might very well be her own son.
25 May 1580
Edinburgh
To Her Royal Highness Anne Isabella,
Your Highness, I thank you for your goodly letter and best wishes. As you say, cousin, is it not reasonable that two young people of similar birth and position should befriends? Sure it is that I wish you well in all your endeavours.
Scotland is most willing for equal friendship with England, and we trust that you and I may have some say in creating that partnership. I look forward to our continued correspondence and wish you well in the coming visit of your royal father, King Philip.
All care from your cousin,
James VI
Anabel studied James’s letter with furrowed brow, then tossed it on the table. “So, what do you think? Did James himself have any say in that carefully equivocal letter, or did my cousin merely sign his name to what his council dictated?”
Pippa touched the paper with the fingertips of her right hand and Anabel waited. It was not a common state for the Princess of Wales, but Pippa was always worth waiting for.
If Anabel could order her life entirely the way she wished it, Pippa would always be with her. But the Courtenay family was not hers to order. They would sooner have taken Anabel into their own home than allow their daughter to spend so much time attached, even peripherally, to court. But that had slowly been changing. Now that both girls were eighteen, surely Pippa’s own wishes would come into it more.
“James believes that he wrote his own wishes,” Pippa answered finally. “But he is not quite fourteen. With no memory of either father or mother, having known only the care of various Lord Protectors, how can James be certain which beliefs are his and which are not?”
“Those carefully chosen words,” Anabel mused, “?‘equal’ and ‘partnership.’ Almost I might be insulted at James’s caution in courting me. Clearly he will not have me unless he is certain that Scotland will not be swallowed up by England in the bargain.”
“He is four years younger,” Pippa reminded her, “and has never met you. Do you want the poor boy to be so madly in love with you that he would simply hand over his country?”
Anabel sniffed. “It would be flattering. But I suppose even he has too much sense—and for certain too much pride—to allow it. There will be a long back and forth before this contract is concluded.” She could not keep the note of satisfaction out of her voice.