Читать книгу Child Royal - D. K. Broster - Страница 15

Early next day, even before the rest of his suite had reached Carrières, the King was off to St. Germain to ascertain in person, such was his concern for his children, that all was now in order for their reception there, in the great pile which his father had built. The château had been thoroughly cleaned out, since the court’s last stay, such periodical cleansings being highly necessary, and forming indeed one of the reasons for the frequent royal changes of residence. The report was already going about that King Henri was enraptured with the little Queen of Scots, who was, he had told her gouvernante, the most perfect child he had ever seen. Nor, added one or two observers, had he appeared ill-pleased with the gouvernante herself.

Had not the other eleven Archers who had ridden with the King from Moulins to Carrières been Scots like himself, and rapt to heaven by the sight of their child queen, Ninian might have had to undergo some chaffing about the notice bestowed upon him, and his little sovereign’s ingenuous request. As it was, he was an object of envy to them for the privilege of having done the royal child a service. And Ninian himself never gave the request another thought, save to bless the warm childish heart which had prompted it.

And now, for a time at least, Court and royal nursery were under the same roof at St. Germain-en-Laye. This, therefore, was the opportunity to present to Mistress Magdalen Lindsay the veil, of the finest Cyprus lawn, which Ninian had bought for her in Lyons; accordingly one afternoon, when his spell of duty was over, he disposed the little packet in his doublet and made ready to mount to the apartments of the Queen of Scots which were, by the King’s desire, over those of the Constable. But his intention was frustrated, for the moment at least, since he was at that very point of time summoned to the King’s presence.

Henri II had not long come in from hunting in the great forest of St. Germain, and was in his cabinet with some of his nobles and gentlemen, all discussing the number and ferocity of the boars which had fallen to their spears. He beckoned the Archer to come to him in the embrasure of a window, a little apart. As usual after indulging his master passion, the chase, he was in a cheerful mood.

“I have sent for you, my good Graeme,” he began, “because I have not forgotten your courage and address in the matter of the dog which attacked the Queen of Scotland, nor the Queen’s request to have you attached to her household, which she has since renewed to me. But even the Dauphin has not yet his separate household, and I wish her Majesty to be brought up, for the next few years, with the Princess Elisabeth in the household of the Enfants de France.”

He paused, and Ninian said respectfully: “So one has understood, sire,” and wondered why he should have been summoned to the royal presence to hear this.

“Nevertheless,” pursued the King, “the Queen has within that household her own particular attendants. Therefore, although I am sorry to lose you from my guard, Monsieur de Graeme, I have, to please my new daughter, decided to reward you by creating a post for you amongst them.”

“Your Majesty is very good,” murmured Monsieur de Graeme, considerably taken aback.

“I have ascertained from the Queen’s gouvernante, Madame de Flamyn,” went on Henri, playing with the medal hanging from his neck, “that her Majesty has a great desire to perfect her horsemanship, for it seems that, in spite of her youth, she has already ridden a little in her own country. I know you to be a skilful horseman, and it is my intention to appoint you to the post of Master of the Horse to the Queen of Scotland. The brevet is being prepared, and you will take up your duties on the first of December. For those duties you would do well to consult the Lords of Erskine and Livingstone” (the royal pronunciation was Asquin and Leviston). “Seek out one or two peaceable palfreys for the Queen’s use, and when occasion offers, instruct her carefully. I need not urge you, a Scot, to take the utmost care of her royal person.—Does this not please you, Monsieur de Graeme?”

To which Ninian, still in a state of bewilderment, replied: “Your Majesty’s will is my pleasure.”

“That is no answer, my friend,” said the King, clapping him on the shoulder. “I give you leave to be perfectly frank, for I love frankness in those about me.” And he perhaps really thought that he did.

“Then, if I may say so with respect,” responded Ninian, “it is somewhat of a blow to me to give up my place in your Majesty’s bodyguard, and lose the privilege of watching over your royal person.”

The King was evidently not ill-pleased at this response. “You will still have a sovereign to guard—and your own. I am but lending you to her service; your name shall remain upon the muster-roll of my faithful Scottish Archers. When her Majesty of Scotland has her own establishment, you shall return; and meanwhile you will be one of the few Scots about her, for in general it is better that she should be served by French men and women, and most of her train I am sending back to Scotland.”

“Indeed, Sire, I am grateful for the opportunity,” said Ninian. “I need have no divided allegiance.”

“Then, my dear Grand Ecuyer, that is happily concluded!” As he kissed the royal hand that title fell upon Ninian’s ears with a faintly ridiculous sound. So swelling a name to bear for teaching a child to ride! Yet it was an honour, a great honour, to be thus singled out . . . and the child was the Queen of Scots, whose liege subject he was, whose face he had averred, at Garthrose, that he so much longed to see. . . .

Still half bewildered, he made his way through the laughing groups of hunters to the door, and had nearly reached it when he heard his name called. Turning, he saw that he was being addressed by that young and brilliant captain, François de Guise, Duc d’Aumale, the scar of the two-year-old wound which had nearly cost him his life under the walls of Boulogne, and which had gained him the epithet of le Balafré, livid across his cheek.

“It is you, Monsieur, is it not, who, chancing to be on the galley which brought my niece the Queen of Scotland hither, saved her from a savage dog?”

“I had that privilege, Monseigneur,” answered Ninian, standing stiff and soldierly.

“I think I have not heard your name?” said the Duc courteously. “——Graeme? Then, Monsieur de Graeme, I pray you to receive this as a small token of the gratitude of my family, and of my father the Duc de Guise in particular.” And taking off the flat gold chain, richly worked, and set with jewels, which hung down upon his doublet, he put it round Ninian’s neck, and, before the Scot could either refuse it or stammer out his thanks, said quickly: “If ever you need help in your turn, remember that the whole House of Lorraine is in your debt!” and turned away again.

With this valuable gift glittering upon his white surcoat, and the Duc d’Aumale’s still more valuable pledge sounding in his ears, Ninian found himself at last mounting the stairs to the little Queen’s apartments. His mind was still a medley of exhilaration and regret. He would not wear that surcoat with the royal badge much longer, he who had been in the Scottish Archers since he was four-and-twenty. But he was thinking that if he did meet with Mistress Lindsay, and had not to deliver the veil to an intermediary, he could tell her his news, and see with his own eyes whether it happened to please her, or was a matter of indifference.

As he gained the landing he heard a rapid pitter-patter of small feet, and beheld two little girls running hand in hand through an open door towards him, as fast as their long stiffened skirts would allow. For an instant he wondered if one of them was his sovereign, but soon recognised two of her child companions who, he suspected, were up to some mischief. At this rate they would soon come to the top of the stairs and might tumble down them. He took a few steps towards them and held his arms wide.

“Stop, stop, little mistresses! Are you running away to take ship back to Scotland?”

The sight of the Archer standing there barring their way had already caused the children to pause, looking a little alarmed. But the smile on his face reassured them, and one—it was Mary Livingstone—said gravely in her small, sweet voice:

“We are not running away at all, sir. We were seeking a place to hide—’tis a game we play.”

“But does my Lady Fleming——” began Ninian, and broke off as the sound of hurrying footsteps came again to his ears. And along came, to his pleasure, Magdalen Lindsay herself.

“Bairns, bairns, what has taken you? Oh, Master Archer, have you . . . why, it is Master Graham!”

And, a hand of the not too unwillingly recaptured Maries in each of her own, she looked up at him smiling, out of those clear dark-blue eyes under the brows like a blackbird’s feather.

Ninian smiled back. “You are wondering, Mistress Lindsay, what I do up in these regions—though perhaps ’tis as well I met these truants of yours. The reason for my presence is my desire to pay my debt to a certain charitable lady. And as I have had the good fortune to come upon her so soon, perhaps she will accept the repayment now.” And thrusting a hand into his breast he brought out the little packet and offered it to her.

Magdalen Lindsay undid the wrapping, while the little girls stood on tiptoe to see, and gave an exclamation. Round the edge of the snow-white piece of lawn ran a tiny gossamer-like embroidery of pale heart-shaped leaves. A flush mounted into Magdalen’s cheeks as she recognised from what tree they came.

“Oh, Master Graham! . . . but this is much too fine for me. And . . . you had it worked for me . . . you did not buy it thus.”

“And how do you know that, pray?” asked Ninian, half-teasingly; it gave him a sudden sharp delight to see that delicate pink on the pale cheek.

“Why . . . are they not the leaves of the linden, the badge of the Lindsays?”

“They are,” said Ninian. “I found an embroiderer in Lyons——”

“Let me see, let me see!” clamoured both the Maries at once, and while the childish heads bent over the gift Magdalen said to the giver: “Never have I owned a veil like this! But indeed, Master Graham, this is worth tenfold that poor thing which I took off in the galley.”

“Not to me!” said Ninian, and so meaningly that the colour which had been fading rose again in the girl’s face. “It is a fair exchange then, if you will accept this veil.”

“Indeed I will, and gratefully. I shall wear it at Monseigneur d’Aumale’s wedding, and be the envied of all.”

Half unconsciously, at the mention of that name, Ninian glanced down for a second at his breast, and Magdalen’s eyes followed his.

“You are admiring my fine chain?” he said, half laughing. “The Duc d’Aumale himself put it about my neck, and now I, too, shall have something to wear when he weds Mlle. d’Este. . . . No, Mistress Lindsay, indeed I am not of his intimates. I think it is the first time that one of his house hath ever spoken to me. But it seems that Messeigneurs de Guise are grateful for the small service which I was able to render her Majesty that day on the galley.”

“Lord Robert Stuart’s dog!” she exclaimed. “Oh, sir, I am indeed glad that they are grateful. They had cause,” she added gravely.

“I saw you fight with the great dog, sir,” piped up a small voice. Ninian had almost forgotten the presence of the two little girls. “I was not frightened, but Mary Beaton”—she pointed an accusing finger across Magdalen’s skirts—“she cried!”

“She was a great deal nearer to the dog than you were,” said the maid-of-honour reprovingly. “Yes, her Majesty owes a heavy debt to Master Graham, and we know that she wishes she could repay it.”

Ninian glanced down for a moment, surprising the golden-haired Mary Beaton in the act of putting out her tongue at her detractor. Of these small folk he was like to see more in future. Suppressing a smile, he looked up again.

“She has repaid it, Mistress Lindsay. That is to say, King Henry has granted her the request she was gracious enough to make.”

The pools of Magdalen’s eyes deepened. “You would say, sir, that you are to be attached to the Queen’s person?”

“For the present, yes.”

“As . . . ?”

“As . . . Master of the Horse—or, it would be more fitting to say, as Master of the Palfreys! For it seems that our little Queen desires to ride. Is that so?”

“We all desire to ride,” came up the same childish voice. “Will Master Archer teach us too, Mistress Lindsay?”

Mistress Lindsay must have surprised on the just-appointed Grand Ecuyer’s countenance something which he himself did not know was there. “You regret this!” she said quickly, in a low voice. “You are a soldier, and you like it not, this new charge!”

“I am a Scot,” answered Ninian promptly, “and, like you, Mistress, proud to serve my Queen in any guise. And because I am a soldier I obey a command—and accept an honour—without question.”

The girl looked as though rebuked; then she saw the kindliness of his smile. “Come, children, we must go back,” she said. “Give me my beautiful veil.” She held out her other hand and said softly, as he raised it to his lips: “You know that all about the Queen’s person will welcome you, Monsieur le Grand Ecuyer!”