32. Anna, Queen of Britain

A NNA , Q UEEN OF B RITAIN Theobalds, Hertfordshire, 16th July 1613

S HE SET THE ARROW to her bow, and moved with care between the trees.

The men were not far off, beside her. Anna heard them talking in low tones, so they'd not frighten off the deer. James was among them.

This was the first day that he'd felt well enough to rise from bed and join them, having been struck suddenly by some intestinal complaint that brought him twisting agony, much like the purge her doctor had prescribed for her when she was last at Bath, when she'd misjudged the dose.

She hadn't shared that piece of information, though, with James. She'd only tucked the empty bottle deep among her linens, and gone to his chamber to see how he was managing.

His face had shone with perspiration, and his eyes were overbright. She saw his pain, and was indifferent. It was but a fraction of the pain their son had suffered, at the end.

‘Sometimes the things we eat,' she said, ‘do not agree with us.' James met her eyes. In innocence, she'd told him, ‘I am sure that it will pass.'

Alone, within her chamber, she had taken up the papers that Sir David Moray handed to her. Smoothed them with her hands, and read them. He'd been very circumspect. ‘I cannot absolutely know,' he'd written, and, ‘I cannot with certainty accuse…'

But it was all there – all the damning evidence. The dates, the names, the places. There could be no more denying it. And though she had no means to seek true justice for her son, she could seek vengeance where she could.

James might not feel remorse. But she would make him feel.

The men were moving past her now. James had the hounds with him. He called to Jewel, his favourite hound, and Anna saw the dog leap up.

He loves his hawks and hounds more than he ever will love us.

She felt a single tear begin its path down her hot face. ‘For you, Henry,' she whispered. Then she raised her bow, and took her aim. And let the arrow fly.