Page 42 of The Changeling

But she knew where I was now. She could command me to do her will whenever she wanted. Who knew what lay ahead for me? I should seize love while I could.

Two weeks later, we heard Lord Henry Darnley, the son of the earl of Lennox, had come to Scotland and wished to meet the queen. At once my heart leapt. Perhaps Robbie would accompany him? If so, what would I say to him? Would I let him kiss me again? The very thought of it made my stomach twist.

When a pageboy hurried in to tell Mary that Lord Henry and his party were near, the queen rose with a smile. ‘Shall we watch them ride in? I’ve heard he’s got a fine seat.’

Her ladies laughed, and clustered around her at the narrow mullioned window. Signor Rizzio and I watched from another window, as Darnley rode through the gates and dismounted below. He was a slender young man, nineteen years old, with a clean-shaven chin that made him look boyish and fresh-faced. He was very richly attired, and his tight hose revealed a shapely calf.

‘Un ragazzo figo,’ Rizzio said approvingly. This was his invariable comment about any good-looking young man, particularly if they shared his love for flamboyant clothes.

‘Why is everyone in such a flutter about him?’

‘He’s Mary’s cousin and also the English queen’s, and quite the favourite with her. But that makes him Mary’s rival. She should marry him.’

That caught my attention. ‘But why?’

‘Her Grace wants to be named Elizabeth’s heir, yes?’ Rizzio went on. ‘And the English queen is getting older every day, and no sign of her marrying and having bambini anytime soon. She needs to name an heir, and Mary is first in line, with Darnley behind her. If they married, they’d each strengthen each other’s claim, and that of any bambini they have.’

‘So why is he her rival?’

‘He is a man, and that makes him dangerous to both queens.’

Rizzio did not need to explain any more.

‘But why should her Grace marry him? She says she must marry a prince, and that is why it is so hard to find herself a new husband, as princes are thin on the ground.’

‘Lord Henry would at least be lusty and virile, unlike her first husband. And she needs to bear an heir – it is her first duty. Besides, it would be good for me if she married him, and so I shall encourage her to consider it.’

‘Why would it be good for you?’

‘It would break the earl of Moray’s power.’

There was such loathing in Rizzio’s voice, I glanced at him in surprise.

‘Once the queen no longer has Moray to advise and guide her, she will have no-one but me to turn to,’ Rizzio gloated. ‘For anyone can tell that young fool cares for naught but his own pretty face.’

We looked back down at the courtyard. Darnley was fussing over the drape of his doublet, while a boy knelt before him, brushing the horse hairs from his crimson velvet breeches. ‘I do not know which one to envy the most,’ Rizzio said with a throaty laugh.

At that moment, two handsome young men with thick red-gold curls and blue eyes rode up the driveway on their matching chestnut stallions.

‘Now look at that,’ Rizzio said. ‘Double trouble.’

I paid him no attention. My heart was beating hard. Robbie had come! I had to speak to him. But how could I, in such a crowd?

I went to the queen and said, bobbing a curtsey, ‘Your Grace, your guests must be cold after their ride. Shall I make some mulled wine?’

‘Aye, a kind thought, let us go and greet them. I would like to see Lord Henry’s horse, it’s a beauty.’

After I had served the wine, I took some to Robbie. I did not speak but smiled at him and let my fingers brush his as I passed him the goblet. He jerked, and his wine splashed. I smiled and tilted my head to the side, then went through the archway in the hedge to a small walled garden. Robbie was quick to follow me, striding eagerly towards me.

Suddenly I felt shy. ‘I just wanted to say I was sorry. Running away like that.’

Robbie shook his head. ‘You have naught to apologise for. It was me that lost my head. I should never have …’ he hesitated, then changed what he was going to say, ‘… been so ungentlemanly.’

‘I wanted you to,’ I confessed. ‘It all just happened so fast, and I never meant … I never thought …’

‘I have,’ he interjected. ‘Thought about it, I mean. Ever since you kissed me that first time. Thinking about kissing you again has been my favourite daydream for a long time.’

My face burned. ‘I thought you’d forgotten all about me.’