The Fugitive Queen Read online

  “Buckley writes a learned historical mystery. Ursula, too, is a smart lass, one whose degrees must include a B.A. (for bedchamber assignations) and an M.S.W. (for mighty spirited wench).”

  —USA Today

  “Buckley describes vividly the difficulties of people living and competing with each other in Elizabethan England.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  High Praise for Fiona Buckley’s Ursula Blanchard Mysteries

  THE FUGITIVE QUEEN

  “This is top-notch romantic suspense with a twist: a historical setting. The Fugitive Queen is thoroughly engrossing from the first page to the last.”

  —Karen Robards, New York Times bestselling author of Beachcomber

  “An artfully executed period piece . . . . Ursula must summon all her considerable wit and courage in order to foil an intricately plotted act of high treason.”

  —Booklist

  “Through the eyes of Ursula, a woman both compassionate and ruthless, Buckley effectively dramatizes the tangled personal and political obligations of the Elizabethan court. A welcome seventh outing.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “An ingenious plot.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Mystery, history, and a feminist heroine—what more could a reader want?”

  —Romantic Times

  A PAWN FOR A QUEEN

  “Rousing . . . . Tension-filled.”

  —Library Journal

  “Fact and fiction blend smoothly in an intricate tale of murder and intrigue.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Jam-packed with action, suspense, and court intrigue . . . . Cleverly plotted.”

  —Booklist

  QUEEN OF AMBITION

  “Queen Elizabeth maintains a surprisingly vital presence . . . although it is Ursula who best appreciates the beauties—and understands the dangers—of their splendid age.”

  —Marilyn Stasio, The New York Times Book Review

  “Riveting social history in an exciting mystery setting.”

  —Booklist

  “Engrossing . . . . Suspenseful.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  TO RUIN A QUEEN

  “An absorbing page-turner.”

  —Booklist

  QUEEN’S RANSOM

  “Now is a nice time for Tudor fans to light a flambeau, reach for some sweetmeats, and curl up with Queen’s Ransom.”

  —USA Today

  “Queen’s Ransom is a fantastic historical fiction novel filled with royal intrigue . . . . Fiona Buckley . . . makes the Elizabethan era fun to read about.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  THE DOUBLET AFFAIR

  “An intricate tale rich in period detail and vivid characters. Among writers of historical mysteries, Buckley stands out for the attention and skill she brings not only to suspenseful plotting but to the setting that supports it.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Buckley’s grasp of period detail and politics, coupled with Ursula’s wit and intelligence, make the story doubly satisfying.”

  —The Orlando Sentinel (FL)

  “A delectable novel that is must reading.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  TO SHIELD THE QUEEN

  “Combines assured storytelling and historical detail. A terrific tale most accessibly told.”

  —The Poisoned Pen

  “Ursula is the esence of iron cloaked in velvet—a heroine to reckon with.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Buckley’s tantalizing re-creation of Elizabethan life and manners is told with intelligence and gentle wit. A noteworthy debut.

  —Library Journal

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  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Letters

  Chapter 1: A Dowry for a Wayward Maid

  Chapter 2: The Unlikely Quarrel

  Chapter 3: A Wild and Lawless Land

  Chapter 4: Abduction

  Chapter 5: Tyesdale

  Chapter 6: Against the Wind

  Chapter 7: A Surfeit of Company

  Chapter 8: The Enchanting Captive

  Chapter 9: Accounting for Silken Velvet

  Chapter 10: Invitation to a Hawking Party

  Chapter 11: The Sign of the Sword

  Chapter 12: Matters of the Heart

  Chapter 13: Credentials of a Suitor

  Chapter 14: Captive Bird

  Chapter 15: Birds in Flight

  Chapter 16: Striking a Bargain

  Chapter 17: “Go Through T’Wood”

  Chapter 18: The Scythe in the Moonlight

  Chapter 19: The Necessary Sacrifice

  Chapter 20: The Heartbroken Enchantress

  Chapter 21: Scented Pebbles

  Chapter 22: The Camp of the Enemy

  Chapter 23: The Rattle of Chains

  Chapter 24: Grimy and Reluctant Bride

  Chapter 25: The Bereft Barbarian

  Chapter 26: The End of Enchantment

  About Fiona Buckley

  This book is dedicated to the memory of my husband, Dalip

  Author’s Note

  It is true that during Mary Stuart’s short stay at Carlisle when she first arrived in England, she was allowed out on at least one hawking expedition. As far as I know, however, there is no record that when she was at Bolton, Sir Francis Knollys ever permitted such a thing. The English government was far too afraid of Mary escaping to France—and coming back with an army.

  However, if by any chance he did relax his restrictions, perhaps through anxiety about Mary’s health, and something went wrong, he might well have kept quiet about it. I have let him do just that. This is fiction, after all.

  It is also true that Mary Stuart suffered from unexplained bouts of ill health, often involving a mysterious pain in her side and likely to occur when she was emotionally upset. It is now believed that she may have suffered from an inherited disease called porphyria, which produces symptoms of this kind.

  Letter from Mistress Ann Mason of Lockhill in Berkshire, to Mistress Ursula Stannard of Withysham in Sussex.

  Dated February 1568

  Madam, I pray that you will forgive me for the liberty I take in writing to you and in making the request that will follow hereafter.

  We last met under unhappy circumstances but all that is in the past and I well know that you did not wish to harm my family; nor did you do so. You only unmasked villainy which we were harboring unawares.

  Since then, my life has changed greatly, with the death of my dear husband, Master Leonard Mason. I am left with the care of Lockhill and of my children. My sons George and Philip are now men grown and some years ago were sent by their father to good households to finish their education, but my eldest daughter, Penelope, who is at present in her nineteenth year, has remained at home with me and it is time to consider her future.

  I have no desire to remarry and indeed, need not, for a few days since, George returned to take his place as the master of Lockhill. He and I, alas, are not altogether in agreement concerning the kind of marriage his sister should make but by the terms of my husband’s will, I am her guardian and the choice is mine.

  I would like Penelope, if possible, to go to court, perhaps as a Maid of Honor—to mix with the best society and thus to have a chance of finding a good match, with a man of position and means. You know, of course, that our family holds by the old religion and I would want Penelope’
s husband to share our opinions. I would not, however, wish him to be anything but a loyal subject of our sovereign lady, Queen Elizabeth. Such men may be found at court, I believe. Her dowry will only be modest, but I will do my best for her.

  And so, dear madam, I come to the point and make bold to ask if you, being a former Lady of the Presence Chamber to Queen Elizabeth, would take charge of Penelope for me and use such influence as you have to find her a place at court and a suitable husband? I would then regard you as her guardian and leave her future entirely in your hands, asking only that I be informed of any betrothal, that I may attend the nuptials and wish her happy.

  I hear that since our last meeting, you have yourself been widowed and have remarried and are now Mistress Hugh Stannard. This came to me from my cousin Bess, who was a Maid of Honor once and although now married and away from the court, still keeps in touch with friends there and hears news. She is however not in a very influential position. You, I think, may well be better placed. Penelope is a good girl, not a great beauty but pleasing nevertheless in her manners and person. Will you help?

  The messenger who brings you this also brings a young female merlin, which I pray you will accept as a sign of my goodwill. The bird is trained and I hope will provide good sport. Her name is Joy, for when we fly her at game, she so loves the air.

  Your most humble servant and supplicant, Ann Mason.

  Letter from Mistress Ursula Stannard, at Hawkswood, to Mistress Ann Mason, Lockhill. Late February 1568

  Madam, it gave both my husband and myself pleasure to receive your letter, which finally reached us at his house in Hawkswood, Surrey, having first gone to my old home at Withysham. I have always regretted that because of the trouble in your household when I was there, and your husband’s very natural indignation over my own part in it, we were not able to pursue our friendship.

  I heartily thank you for the gift of Joy, the merlin. The bird has settled well and I have presented her to my daughter, Meg. It is time that Meg learned something of the sport of falconry.

  Both my husband, Master Stannard, and I were grieved to learn of your husband’s death. This is a great loss for you and for your family and we pray that you may be able to sustain it with courage and are not in any want.

  I remember Penelope and well recall how much I liked her. We will gladly welcome her to our home. Her presence, even for a short while, may be of benefit to my own daughter. Meg is growing up. She will turn thirteen this summer. She would take pleasure in the company of a friend who could be as it were, an elder sister, until such time as I can arrange for Penelope to attend at court. I daresay that such an arrangement can be made and I will put my best efforts forward for her.

  Meanwhile, as long as she is with us, whether here or when we are at Withysham (as we sometimes are), Penelope will share in the society of the neighborhood. If she plays chess, my husband would enjoy having a new opponent for a while, and I and my gentlewoman companion Mistress Sybil Jester will provide her with every opportunity to practice music, needlework, and horsemanship, and to continue with whatever studies you recommend.

  But let me assure you again, I will make every effort to secure a place at court for her and after that, a good marriage into a family that is not likely to fall foul of the law. The political and religious divisions within our land are a trouble to us all, alas.

  By this messenger, we send you the gift of a puppy, ten weeks old. He is bred from a strain of good ratters, but with a gentle temperament, so that he will make a pet as well. With earnest good wishes to you and all your family, Ursula Stannard, formerly Ursula Blanchard.

  Letter from Mistress Ursula Stannard to Mistress Ann Mason. Dated April 1568

  My respected friend Mistress Mason: I write from the court at Greenwich, whither I lately brought your daughter, Penelope. She is now established as a Maid of Honor to Queen Elizabeth. She was very welcome in my household where her many excellent qualities won all hearts and I am sure that at court, it will be no different. My husband has most generously provided her with new gowns and some jewelry for her entrance into royal circles. She will be second to none in her style of dress and ornamentation and I trust it will not be difficult to find a husband for her.

  I will take every care to see that she is guided toward the kind of match which will please you.

  What strange times we live in! Three years ago, I briefly visited the court of Queen Mary Stuart of Scotland. Her marriage to Henry Lord Darnley had not yet taken place although its likelihood was becoming plain. But no one could have envisaged then, that by now, Darnley would have been mysteriously slain and Mary accused of complicity and cast from her throne accordingly. I think she is no threat to England now and that her supporters are no longer a threat, either. But I promise I will see to it that Pen is introduced only to families who, whatever their private observances, are steady and loyal to our queen . . . .

  Letter to Mistress Ursula Stannard at Withysham, Sussex, by private messenger, from Sir William Cecil, Secretary of State, at Richmond Palace. Dated June 1568

  My very dear Ursula, I write this reluctantly, but with the queen’s knowledge—indeed at her behest. It is not usual for me to concern myself with the antics of her Maids of Honor, but one of them is your protégée and you, Ursula, are most highly valued by the queen and by me and my wife. Also, a member of my own household is involved.

  We are anxious on account of your ward, Mistress Penelope Mason, who, while at court, has formed an unsuitable attachment to one of my gentlemen—a Master Rowan, who is a linguist and accompanies me to court to help me in conversing with French and Italian visitors, since I myself speak no tongue but English.

  Master Rowan has a wife of great charm, and they have four children. He has, I assure you, no interest in Mistress Mason, but she is evidently smitten by his good looks and pleasant mien and I am sorry to say is making herself a nuisance to him, as well as appearing foolish in the eyes of others. It would be well if you could come to Richmond and speak with her, or perhaps take her away for a while.

  You will have heard, of course, the latest news regarding Mary Stuart of Scotland. In May, much to our surprise and horror, she escaped from her imprisonment in Scotland with a tiny suite of sixteen people, landed at Workington on the Cumberland coast, and threw herself on the mercy of Elizabeth. She is at present in Carlisle, but plans are in hand to send her to Bolton Castle in Yorkshire, which is more secure. Sir Francis Knollys has gone north on the orders of Queen Elizabeth, to take charge of her and guard against any machinations on her part.

  He also hopes to convert her to the Protestant faith although I suspect that he will find this a difficult task.

  Master Rowan has just come to me with a sonnet in Penelope Mason’s handwriting. He found it pinned into a cloak which he had left upon a bench. I enclose it for you to see. I hope that you and Master Stannard will not delay in coming to court to deal with this most embarrassing situation . . . .

  1

  A Dowry for a Wayward Maid

  I married Hugh Stannard in 1565, the seventh year of Queen Elizabeth’s reign. I was thirty-one, a little younger than the queen herself, and Hugh was more than twenty years my senior, but this suited me very well. I had had enough of passion. I had felt passion for both of my previous husbands and it had brought me more suffering than joy.

  Well, it was true that my dear first husband, Gerald Blanchard, had given me my daughter, Meg, who was a blessing to me. But I had nearly lost my life in bearing her, and I had lost Gerald himself to smallpox while Meg was still small. Now my second husband, Matthew de la Roche, was dead of the plague and although I had been deep in love with him, we had never had any peace or lasting happiness together. I bore him a stillborn son whose birth brought me even nearer to the grave than Meg had, so that I learned to fear childbearing. And also, I was loyal to Queen Elizabeth of England while he had continually plotted against her on behalf of Mary Stuart, who was Queen of Scotland and in the eyes of ardent Catholic
s such as Matthew should have been Queen of England, too.

  If I were tired of passion, I was even more tired of conspiracy. For many years I had served Elizabeth as a Lady of the Presence Chamber but I had been more than that. I had also worked for her as a spy, seeking out plots against her. For a while, I found the excitement exhilarating. It had called to me in a voice like the cry of the wild geese, winging across the sky. When I heard the geese something in me always longed to bound up into the air and follow them. In the same way, I had responded to the summons of adventure.

  But my work divided me from Matthew and willy-nilly, it caused me to send men to their deaths. It put me in mortal danger too, once or twice. I continually worried and frightened my two good servants, Fran Dale, my tirewoman, and Roger Brockley, my steward; I more than once risked leaving Meg alone without either mother or father, and when my adventuring finally brought me perilously close to being forced into a disastrous third marriage, I knew I had had enough.

  In Hugh Stannard, I found a refuge from conflict combined with freedom from the perils of childbirth. He was a widower and hadn’t spent his widowhood like a monk, which meant that he had had every chance of siring children yet he had never succeeded in doing so. With him, I could be fairly sure that I would not have to face pregnancy again. He was also a decent, honest man, interested in chess and gardens, an uncomplicated Protestant, and a trustworthy subject of the queen. Life as Hugh’s wife might be dull, I thought, but it would be quiet. I was glad to settle for that. I could do without excitement. I could even do without happiness, as long as I could have some peace.

  I hoped that we would make a good partnership. I would retire from court and conspiracy alike. Hugh and I would live together in amity, dividing our time between our two homes, my Withysham in Sussex and his Hawkswood in Surrey. I would educate my daughter, cultivate my herb garden, enjoy the society of my recently acquired woman companion Sybil Jester; let Fran and Roger enjoy each other’s society, too. They were married, though Fran was still usually known as Dale, out of habit.