Road to the Estate

After years of marriage, James rode out that misty morning with his retinue to meet his wife. Like much of his life, he had been on the fringes-bid to stand in the shadows and let others go about his business for him. As a child, others ruled him and his people. As a man, he wore the crown of responsibility well, letting neither kin nor family influence what he knew best for his people. Even his marriage had little involved his input, a ceremony as a child - now a vague memory - had bound him to this French stranger.

And as he jumped from his horse, adjusting his doublet and ceremonial gold chain - he imagined now having to live with this stranger. Of course, he had seen paintings of her and heard reports of her charm but he suspected them all tainted with French biased.

Mary had left from France two weeks ago. After many months of waiting she was finally going to meet her husband. She couldn't explain the many feelings she had coursing throughout her. She was albeit, apprehensive to what he might be like. Mary had hoped that he wouldn't be cold or distant even and that perhaps, he would understand their duty as king and queen. The fresh Scottish air of from the glenn helped her nerves as the carriage sped throughout the country.

The carriage approached and James sighed dejectedly. What if she was cold and aloof, a simple girl with no wit? What if they simply couldn't stand each other? It wouldn't matter. He would be hers, and she his. To break their vows taken in ignorance as children would result in political tensions and rebellion between their two nations. If anything could unite them it would be a dislike of the English - a shared purpose to protect Scotland and France from the Tudors.

James glanced behind him and sighed at the fifty strong party who had gathered with him. The only face he was glad of was Thomas Erskine of Haltoun. His royal secretary's wife was a lady in waiting for Mary and Thomas a loyal friend and subject. The friends shared a knowing smile before James broke away from the crowd, stepping forward to greet the carriage.

As the carriage began to slow down Mary felt ill. The prospect of suddenly meeting her king, husband and friend made her stomach jump in her throat. It was all very well being married on different shores but now it was happening it felt like her head was in a misty valley. What if James thiught her to be small? Alas she was small but fierce aswell. With the carriage stopping Mary twitched back the curtain, taking a peek of what Scotland was like. With the carriage door opened, she took the hand of one of the guards and stepped out. As she let her gown fall to the floor her eye's tried to adjust to the morning sun. One single man standing alone held only her gaze her husband. Calmly and with her nerves in check Mary moved gracefully towards him crossing her hands together. Just a few feet away from him she stopped before him sinking into a deep curtsey. This was the man that she now would obey not her father or brother just James.

He looked forward, clasping his hands behind his back. He stood tall, heads above other men but inside he felt as small as the person he noticed rustling about inside the carriage. No doubt his ambassadors had spoken of him to Mary but how could he possible match the impossible standards set by his diplomats.

Then he saw her emerge; slightly dishevelled, delicate in stature and countenance. She moved with the grace of a woman born into royalty, she commanded a respect with her presence alone. Yet her features were young and bright. He smiled with relief, and shot a glance behind him - winking at his secretary who clearly admired the young Queen too. As she curtsied, he bowed but kept his eyes on her. Officials stepped forward to speak on the Kings behalf but one glare from James sent them scuttling away.

"Bienvenue en Ecosse, " he said, his Scottish accent still audible, "Je espère que vous serez très à l'aise ici..."

Mary smiled kindly at him her features soft and gracefull. James she noticed had a mischevious look in his eye. His features were strong, define cheekbones with a stubbled beard. If he was in a foreign land perhaps you would mistake him for a completely normal person. He had that type of face that could blend in and nobody would know. Mary went shy as he spoke to her in her native tongue she wanted to reply in French but knew she wasn't allowed. She was no longer French but a Scottish queen! Besides, she was advised against it by Ambassadors and other royals.

Thank you you're majesty for personally greeting me into your kingdom. It is most kind of you to do so knowing how busy a king you are.

Her accent wasn't strong like others it had a hint of sweetness which reminded Mary of the scent Vanilla.

James smiled endearingly at her words as his party clapped raucously - obviously they appreciated that she spoke their language. She was as described. 'A girl who would ne'er struggle to be obedient. Shy but fair of face'. Yet, concealed beneath the rich folds of her dress and fear of a new land, James believed he could see a flame of hope.

They were different. Despite his status, James was rugged like the men who lived on the furthermost points of his kingdom. There was something wild in his nature. He was hardened to affection after his youth which had not been a typical royal upbringing. The soft touch of one like Mary was unknown. He was altogether human, free from the arrogance of power.

He was unsure how to act or what to say, so James stepped forward...ignoring the ripple of whispers from their retinues, never breaking his gaze into her eyes. He took her hand, in what he suspected to be the French fashion, and brought it to his lips. He then quietly as he could, whispered words that he believed would comfort him should he be arriving on foreign soil, "Vous serez tout à fait en sécurité ici...je vais protéger...ma dame."

I hope I can help you in fullfilling your wishes for Scotland. But first I believe we have to humiliate ourselves by consecrating our marriage in front your council. If we were not catholic I like to believe we would be left to our own devices.

It was a tradition that had been around for years and was also known as Bedding. While Mary didn't want to appear as foul mouthed in front of her betrothed, it was important for her to shared what scared her. James would know every single thing that scared and made her happy before the year was over. She owed it to him to be herself in his presence if they wanted their marriage to work.

He chuckled deeply and glanced around them, confidently leaning a little closer to her. His council had spent days perversely trying to convince James to the humiliation of bedding her publicly. He could think of nothing worse, except perhaps how she may feel about it. It was not the lying with a stranger that repulsed him, not even the idea people could see - it was the control the council tried to keep on him. It was the intimation that James did not have absolute power and so he would not allow it, "Nay, there is no need for that. I...I suppose we- "he corrected,"-control the council...not the other way about."

Mary leaned in aswell as they spoke to one another. Piece by piece she begun to like hearing what he had to say. It seemed that, he had a lot of his own opinions and ideas but had yet to voice them. Or perhaps he did voice them only to be silenced by those around him.

You are a king the council is yours to rule alone. I am your queen I know my place and I shall not overstep the mark. If their are times that you should need my opinion I will gladly voice them.

Mary placed a tender hand on his arm. A warm yet, reasuring smile formed on her lips.

I look forward to getting to know you.

James smiled and turned around to his party, touching his hand to hers as it rested on his strong arm. It was a  pretentious display, politically decided days ago. But her hand felt soft beneath his, the sweet smell of her perfume beside him. In truth, he wanted her in the council meetings and to work with him - at least she would be on his side. He was not a man quick to speak, he was quiet mostly - often brooding instead of talking. The crowd dipped into bows and then erupted into boisterous cheers, clapping at the couple.

"How about a walk?" he suggested discreetly, still facing the crowd, "Get away from them..."

Mary went coy as the courtiers started to applaud them. Such displays of affection she was not use to doing. It needed to be done for the people of Scotland to have some hope in them both. Such big brown eye's for a man with such a quiet nature. His eye's spoke when his lips fail to speak. Taking her arm, she slide it under his. Her fingers pressed deeply into his leather clothing as Mary tilted her head one final time towards the crowd.

Let us go somewhere discreet somewhere, that only you know of.

"No such place here, " he mumbled. This wasn't his home, there would be prying eyes everywhere here but in Stirling...well there he knew every corridor in the palace and corner of the land. They would be alone there at least, "But few wander in these fields I'm told."

A few of his friends in the crowd called out playful, bawdy jibes and James turned his head back on them with a smirk. He then guided her ahead, past the french gathering - bowing his head respectfully.

"How was the journey?" he asked when they were sufficiently away from the crowd.

I don't like the remarks that your men make about me. I'm just not used to the attention of men as, I have only ever devoted myself to being your wife.

She whispered as a sudden fear sparked inside of her. Never leave me alone with them she said to herself as they carried on walking.

The sea was a kind mistress to us on this journey. We sailed smoothly over the French channel. I was even allowed up on deck as we came into Scotland I thoroughly enjoyed it.

James laughed and looked ahead, striding beside her with the confidence of youth. He glanced about the glenn as he replied, "They mean you no harm, madame. They're good souls and only intend to tease me."

'Tis the clerics and nobles in the council who would do him harm, "You'll get used to our ways here..." he added reassuringly.

Mary let her hand casually grab his hand. His olive skin was a soft smooth texture as her fingers locked around his. Wherever his eye's looked hers shortly followed. She had never seen land so greener or smell even fresher than in Scotland. Her first thought was to write to Isabelle an extend an invitation for her to visit this beautiful land. Mary didn't want to rush things although, she wanted to know James better than any of his courtiers and councillors.

I like to go horse riding in the evening time. I was told that Scotland has the purest of waters in the highlands. One time we should go riding together for couple of hours.

James nodded with a smiled, rather impressed that she enjoyed the same pursuits as him. He expected her to decline the offer a walk in favour of sewing with her ladies...instead she fit well at his side. She was tactile, obviously the French influence in her but James did not mind. He held her small hand, unperturbed by their contact.

"Often, " he began and paused. He bit his lip with a grin and glanced to his feet. It was a secret between him and his friends but they advised James to be honest with her-so he was,"Often my men and I leave the court. I dress in their clothes, pretend to be some man - a soldier, a poet...not a King..."

He glanced to her, "You should come sometime...if it please you."

I think that I would love too! When my hair is let down it tends to curl softly, blending naturally in with the rest of my hair. I have two closets one is full of casual clothes the other are my royals gowns. I prefer the outdoors rather than being stuck inside. I collect butterflies they are so beautiful to me.

Mary respected his honesty towards her it was a good sign that they could open up to one another. She could understand why people admired him he was down to earth. He wasn't full of himself going around demanded to be loved by his people.

I shall be honest no one has taught me how to please you. I hope that it won't drive you mad.

He laughed at her words. She seemed very confident in his company, she did not stay quiet or shrink at his sight. The latter was a pleasant change. He was glad she spoke freely, he had not much experience speaking with women. He had no time for his mother and the women he had known had been for a night and nothing more, "Well nor have I...you will learn eventually. I shall not hurry you though...I won't pester you into anything."

My mother would tell me of for being so crude with a king, it is not that. I prefer to talk about things rather than not speaking out about them. As long as you are happy, then that is the main thing. Are we to dine alone tonight or do we have to entertain the council.

For the first few days people would be curious about Mary and how she and James got along. Some of this attention she would have to grow accustom too but their would be times when she woukd crave privacy, just the two of them alone.

Do you have any local homes for the children who are orphaned.

James nodded, "Tonight, yes. It will do both our sides well to see you and I together...pacify them for a while. It's not the full court who are here though, fewer prying eyes."

He brushed his beard with his free hand, "One I believe here. But at home, we are building a hospital beside a monastery...just outside the city. Most of the monks there have some knowledge of medicine and will able to help the physicians."

I would like to be involved in some of the work. I adore children I guess that it is just ny maternal side. But, I would always be happy to help in such worthy causes.

Mary stopped walking for a few moments, simply taking in the noises of nature and the much precious time alone with James. Finding an old tree stump she gave his hand a tug. With all her energy she pulled him behind her avoiding the brambles. Her hand swept of the fallen leafs that gathered on the stump.

How do you feel now that we have met? I am glad that I have a nice slender king rather than a beast.

He nodded thoughtfully. He spent time in the city often, naturally not as King, but he knew the hardships of the folk. The plagues and diseases that would linger in the gutter, the misery of orphaned babes but James consoled himself with the knowledge of declining penury, "If you like. I am not intimately involved with their work but I shall extend your hand to their service."

He leaned against a yew tree by the stump upon which she perched, smirking playfully at her words, "Yes, you have done rather well for yourself. I'm told on the highest authority I'm the most handsome prince in Christendom," he said jokingly, theatrically touching his chin.

He then laughed, "It is strange. I know you...but I don't. I have been told of you nearly all my life but to see you in person is different...I imagine it is worse for you. At least I am at home, have my kin here - you are a stranger to this land in many ways."

Yes you are very handsome man. I like how your beard shapes your chin. You have the most sweetest eye's I could lose myself in.

Mary blushed at this confession but it was natural to grow certain feelings towards him. She gravitated towards him, like a moth attracted to the flame.