Chapter One
The Messenger in Gold and Red
I remember the day Queen Mary Tudor came to our town. It was the most fearsome, exciting and heart-stopping day of my life. Iâll remember it if I live to be a hundred.
I was a serving girl at Lord Scuggateâs manor house â a small castle, really. And I was invisible!
No, really!
I carried the food and the wine from the kitchen to the table and all the grand folk in the great hall ignored me.
They never said âPleaseâ, they just held out a wine cup to be filled. They never, ever said âThanks!â. It was as if I wasnât there. Invisible in my shabby black dress.
My mouth stayed shut. But my eyes could see and my ears could hear. That summer evening there was a sudden hammering on the door. Lord Scuggate looked furious.
âWho dares to knock at a Scuggate door that way?â he demanded.
I hurried over the rushes on the stone floor and opened the door. A young man in a coat of blood-red and gold threw his handsome head up and marched in. The hounds by the fireside growled.
âLord Scuggate of Bewcastle?â the young man asked, and his voice whined like a leaking trumpet.
âWho wants to know?â his lordship asked. âWhat sort of slabberdegullion are you to come barging in on Lord Scuggate and his guests?â
Sir James Marley of Roughsike squeaked and tried to shake Lord Scuggateâs arm.
His lordship shook him off.
âIâll have you stripped and whipped and dragged at the cartâs tail all the way to the gallows!â he yelled at the messenger.
He swelled like a pigâs bladder that the boys blow up to play football. His face was purple. âIâll have youâ¦â
âNo, your lordship!â Sir James squawked. âLook at the badge on his coat.â
âShut up, man,â Lord Scuggate snapped without taking his eyes off the messenger. âIâll have you hanged by the neck and I donât care who your master isâ¦â
âMistress,â the shocked messenger mumbled.
âWho your mistress is!â Lord Scuggate snorted. âI see by your badge you wear the sign ofâ¦â
He stopped. Everyone was looking at the floor. Even the dogs that chewed their bones stopped crunching.
The only sound was Lord Scuggate spluttering as if someone had stuck a needle in his pig-bladder face. ââ¦the sign of ⦠er ⦠the sign ofâ¦â
âHer Majesty Queen Mary Tudor of England,â the messenger said quietly. Lord Scuggate grinned weakly showing his broken and yellow teeth. âAnd you are very, very welcome to Bewcastle Hall, my dear young friend!â
Chapter Two
The Cruel Killing Queen
The messenger had said that the queen would be passing through Bewcastle on a tour of the Scottish Borders. She would stop at Scuggate Hall for lunch the next day.
When the young man in red and gold had gone, the Bewcastle men muttered over their wine cups as the invisible maid heard their terrible talk.
âDown in London, they call the queen âBloody Maryâ because she burns anyone who doesnât worship at a Catholic church,â Sir James Marley of Roughsike said quietly.
âSheâd burn us if she found anyone who doesnât go to church,â Father Walton of Catlowdy Church warned them.
Lord Scuggate looked at him sharply. âItâs your job to make sure people go to church,â he said.
The priest in the velvet cloak spread his hands and smirked. âMy lord, it is you the queen will blame, and you the queen will burn.â
Lord Scuggateâs blotched face turned pale. âEveryone in Bewcastle goes to church⦠Well ⦠they go at Easter and Christmas anyway, donât they?â
The men brought their heads closer together.
âWe could get all the Bewcastle folk together and have a march through the town to the church, just as Queen Mary arrives,â Father Walton