The Forgotten Queen by D. L. Bogdan

knows, Your Grace. Likely, those who had the interests of Scotland at heart. Someone who did not want the Douglases or the Drummonds to rise to power through the girl. Some even suspect—” She lowered her eyes, biting her lip.
    “Who, Lady Surrey?” I demanded through gritted teeth.
    “No one, Your Grace,” she said quickly.
    “I command you to tell me!” I ordered, so angry I was unable to derive pleasure in the fact that I was commanding someone about.
    She averted her head, her voice a whisper so soft it was barely audible. “Some suspect your father may have arranged it, Your Grace, to clear your path of obstacles.”
    I shook my head. I refused to believe this; I could not bear to have my vision of my father, my stoic, honorable father, altered in any way. In firm tones I said, “Careful you do not speak treason against your king. He is not capable of ordering such cruelty. It was not he; do not even suggest it.”
    “I was not going to until you commanded me, Your Grace,” she replied.
    “You must not think of it, dearest,” Aunty Anne urged in her soft voice. “You are the queen, the only queen, and none can take your place.”
    “What’s more important is I am his wife. His wife .” My voice was heated with fervency. “His Mistress Stewart. And I will never let him forget it.”
    But my confidence was forever shaken. Three girls were poisoned, one for daring to love a king and two because they were in the wrong place at the worst of times. If three lives could be extinguished with such ease and lack of conscience then what could become of me should a party among these wild Scots decide I was less than worthy of sitting beside James IV?
    I laid a hand upon my flat belly. A baby. I would have a prince and soon. My throne would be secured. Panic gripped me as another thought assaulted me.
    Bastards . Plural.
    Jamie, my sweet, handsome Jamie, had children.
     
    With supreme effort, I went through the motions for the rest of the day. I played with my new pups, I ate heartily at supper and laughed at the Fools, ever in competition with each other. I played my lute and led the courtiers in song. It would have been a most merry sport were my mind not viciously taunting me with the afternoon’s revelation.
    When Jamie and I were alone my temper could no longer be controlled. The moment he entered our chambers I burst into tears.
    “Maggie, child, what is it?” he cried, approaching me to place his hands on my shoulders. His face was stricken at my distress and I was glad of it, reminding myself that this could prove a useful technique in future encounters.
    “How many, Your Grace?” I seethed, unable to discern his features through my tearful haze.
    “How many . . . ?” His face was wrought with confusion. “Maggie, please, child, calm yourself. Tell me what has happened.”
    “How many children have you sired?” I sniffled, wiping my cheeks with my palms.
    Jamie dropped his hands from my shoulders and backed away. “Oh, Maggie . . . I had hoped to spare you of this until I deemed you more equipped to manage such news. But the court relishes their gossip. I should have known it would not take too long before rumors reached you.”
    “Are they rumors or truths?” I demanded, my chest still heaving with sobs.
    He cocked his head, pursing his lips, his eyes making an appeal for an understanding I could not give. After a moment’s more hesitation he said, “It is true. I have children.”
    “How many?” I persisted.
    “Five.”
    “Five?” I cried. “ Five? God’s blood, aren’t you the profligate!” I balled my hands into fists. “Two or three I could perhaps understand—perhaps—but five! And all by the same mother?”
    He shook his head.
    With wild abandon, I began removing pins from my hair and throwing them at him. They bounced off of him, useless as my tears.
    “Five little threats to your throne!” I went on, my eyes gone painfully dry with rage. “Did you ever think at all