Here we are, a story about Mary Queen of Scots, and Queen Elizabeth I. It’s the first one I’ve written on the theme of alternative histories. I hope to write quite a few more and publish a book with them all in towards the end of the year.
Anyhow, have a read and leave a comment to be put on a list for a free copy of my next book.
I’ve had quite a few comments about the Rue Stone which was the last story in Dark & Fluffy. Which I’m pleased with as this is my favourite. A lot of the comments relate to the story being too short, people wanted more of it, and I agree. So I’ll be working on this, and adding to it, to publishing this as a novella later in the year. So leave a comment about this story here, and you’ll get a free Rue Stone!
Queens of England
Queen Elizabeth I spread her hands on the table in front of her. It was full of documents provided by her advisers in evidence of a conspiracy. Her cousin Queen Mary of Scotland had already been incarcerated by her hand, for nearly nineteen years, and now Elizabeth was being pressurised to have her executed.
‘Majesty, the evidence in front of you is irrefutable, she has been convicted of treason against England. Everyday that she lives, your own life is in peril, I implore you to sign the death warrant.’
She sighed and raised her hands off the table, looking up at Sir Francis Walsingham and William Cecil. The words they spoke may well be true, but the thought of killing another anointed Queen did not sit well with her.
She was ageing. Her reign had been long and successful despite being a woman. Yet despite not marrying, she had been surrounded by men all her life. Ruled by them, romanced by them, counselled by them and advised by them. Well enough was enough, did she not know her own mind?
‘I want her brought to me.’
‘Majesty!’ Cecil was aghast and shot a desperate look at Walsingham.
‘That is impossible madam, you would be giving permission to her supporters to infiltrate the palace and carry out the assassination!’
‘It makes no sense, the death warrant is all drawn up, you just need to sign.’ Cecil concluded.
She felt the rage rise in her, it had been inherited from her father, everyone said so. It didn’t rise as much as it had in her father by all accounts, but it was certainly making its presence known now.
‘Do as I ask!’ She roared. ‘This incessant debate over everything I decide tires me. I fully intended ridding myself of my troubles, my way, I shall be in my rooms when she arrives.’
She swept out of the room, her ladies following her, the last one closing the door firmly behind them.
Walsingham looked ashen. ‘Now what?’
‘We do as she asks, what else can we do?’
‘She has gone mad, surely, the risk is too great.’
‘Walsingham, she must be sent for, I value my head too much to refuse the order. Do you?’
The death warrant hung limply in Cecil’s hand.
Elizabeth was sat in front of the fire, with Mary stood in front of her. Even though it was summer, this room was always cold, and the thought of what she was about to propose had given Elizabeth chills from the moment she had arose this morning. She would not change her mind now though.
Although Mary was pale and appeared delicate, Elizabeth could see that her spirit had not been broken. Her eyes were alive with a shrewdness behind them, they shone like chips of Scottish granite. Her skin was smooth, unlike Elizabeth’s, for her it was taking more and more ceruse to cover her small pox scars. She stood abruptly and was pleased to see that although Mary showed strength of spirit, she was still slightly started by Elizabeth’s sudden movement.
Walking to the desk at the back of the room, she picked up a large document, Mary’s death warrant. With this in hand she walked back to the fire.
‘Sit,’ she commanded. She gestured to a chair she had asked to be placed at the other end of the fireplace.
Mary hesitated only for a moment and then did as she was bid.
‘Do you know what this is?’ She enquired of Mary.
‘No, I do not.’ No deference or yielding.
‘It is your death warrant. My advisers tell me that this is the only way to deal with a threat such as yourself, and for a long time, as you know, I have struggled with this dilemma. But, to kill an anointed Queen does not sit well with me. So, what am I to do in the face of what appears to be indisputable evidence of your treason, ignore it? No, that would not be the answer, but I am determined to deal with this matter once and for all. My father was a man who trusted his own judgement over all else, over advisers, the church, God even and I vowed to follow in his footsteps when I became Queen. Now the opportunity has arisen to allow me to do what I think is in my, and our countries, best interests. All it needs now is for you to agree and this death warrant will be torn up and thrown into the fire.’
Mary was looking expectantly at Elizabeth. The only betrayal of her nerves was a twitching little finger that gently tapped the wooden arm of her chair.
‘I want you to join with me, to rule England and Scotland with me as an equal monarch. One country, two Queens.’
Mary took a sharp intake of breath, then her whole body sagged forwards and a sob escaped from her. When she looked up again, her damp eyes were shining and her whole demeanour had changed.
‘Your offer Majesty is something that I cannot process, could it really work, how would we convince everyone? Undoubtably it would cause civil war, rebellion…’
‘Yes, all the classic male reactions to such an idea would come into play no doubt. It is unprecedented, but I’m convinced that if we stand firm and hold our nerve, we together, two strong women, anointed Queens, can make it work. At least I think we owe it to ourselves to try, do you agree?’
Elizabeth ripped the death warrant in two, gave half to Mary and together they threw it on the fire.
Indeed, it did cause mayhem in England when Elizabeth announced that the country was to have two Queens. Walsingham took to his bed not long after Mary was installed as joint head of state, and never recovered.
After some jostling for position, a balance of catholic and protestant advisers were put in place, but none ever had final say over the decisions of the Queens.
The people of the land both catholic and protestant, had a period of brief unrest, and then found themselves living together quite contentedly.
Mary’s son James was the most displeased, feeling threatened by his formerly disposed mother’s new-found status. A few skirmishes occurred on the Scotland/England borders, but these were soon quelled. In the end, he had nothing to worry over. Elizabeth died in 1603 and although his mother had gained new found strength from her elevation, she was no match for her son. She wasn’t strong enough to hold the throne by herself and England was overtaken at its weakest time.
James became King James IV of Scotland and James I of England.
He had his mother sent to St Mary’s nunnery where she lived out her days.
Janet Stock 