The Windsor Knot

Ian grinned. “A bet’s a bet. Don’t be such a bad sport. Are they coming to investigate?”

“No. They took the information over the telephone. After all, there really isn’t anything for them to see. They just cautioned us to keep the house locked and to be especially careful for the next few days, in case the intruder comes back.”

“I suppose that makes sense. I wonder who would take a garden gnome. Did they have any theories? Did they laugh?”

Cameron shook his head. “They have no sense of humor. And no theories, either. The officer I talked to was probably younger than you are. It was all one to him. You might check with a few of your rowdier friends, though, to see if this qualifies as a collegiate prank.”

“I’ll ask. But it doesn’t seem likely.”

“The whole thing seems unlikely.”

“Well,” said Ian, “this will be quite a blow to Mother. Losing a son and a garden gnome all in the same week.”

CHAPTER 5

OF ALL THE royal palaces used by the monarchs of Scotland, only the palace of Holyroodhouse in Edinburgh is still used for royal hospitality and ceremonies. The Queen devotes most of her time in Scotland to her personal residence in the Highlands, Balmoral Castle, where she stays on holiday for ten weeks from early August until mid- October; but the Queen’s annual official visit to Scotland takes place in early July, at which time she occupies the nine-hundred-year-old palace of Holyroodhouse. It is a turreted, sandstone building, made gloomy by its deep-set windows and thick walls, and perhaps echoing the sorrows of its principal resident, Mary, Queen of Scots.

The original structure was an abbey, erected in the twelfth century by King David of Scotland upon the command of heaven. According to legend, King David insisted upon going hunting on the day of the Holy Rood (September 14), instead of spending the day in prayer and contemplation of the Cross (or Rood). During the hunt in the fields below Edinburgh Castle, the king became separated from his huntsmen, and he was thrown from his horse at the feet of an angry stag, its head lowered to gore him. Suddenly a mist enveloped the king, and when he put out his hand to ward off the attacking animal, he found himself grasping a cross between the antlers of the deer. The animal ran away-and King David resolved to build an Augustinian monastery, the Abbey of Holyrood, on the site of the miracle. In later years, Robert the Bruce held parliaments there.

In 1502, King James IV converted some of the structures into a royal residence in honor of his marriage to Margaret Tudor, sister of England’s King Henry VIII. This union of the thistle and the rose was celebrated at Holyrood, and the palace was further enlarged during the reign of their son James V. The abbey, destroyed in the “rough wooing” of the English in 1544, fell into ruins and was never rebuilt; only the foundations and the ruined nave of the church remain. The palace itself was rebuilt after the English invasion, and the daughter of James V- Mary, Queen of Scots-took up residence there in 1561. The nineteen-year-old Queen, already the widow of the King of France, married Lord Darnley in the Chapel Royal, and it was in Holyrood that the Queen’s secretary, David Rizzio, was murdered by Darnley and his men.

After Mary’s son, James VI, left Scotland to inherit the throne of Elizabeth I of England, the castle was abandoned by royalty for nearly two centuries. Bonnie Prince Charlie held court there during his ill-fated attempt to seize the throne, but it was not until the nineteenth century that another monarch took any interest in the palace. Queen Victoria, who loved all things Scottish, restored Holyroodhouse, and made it her custom to stay there once yearly, a tradition that has been continued by her descendants to this day.

During her week in residence at the palace of Holyroodhouse, the Queen is welcomed to the city by being presented with the keys of the city of Edinburgh in the Ceremony of the Keys, held in the west front courtyard. It is during this week that the Queen presides over the Ceremony of the Thistle-the Scottish equivalent of the Order of the Garter-in nearby St. Giles Cathedral.

She also hosts a tea party on the grounds of the palace of Holyroodhouse. With eight thousand guests, the event is about as intimate as a rock concert, but it is a singular honor to be invited-and the manicured lawns of the palace are lovely, as are the views of Arthur’s Seat and Salisbury Crag, majestic in the distance.

Cameron Dawson’s memories of the palace of Holyroodhouse are unfortunately centered on sheep droppings.

“Sheep droppings?” said Elizabeth, staring at the telephone as if it had misquoted the caller. Several days had passed since their last conversation, and she was phoning to report on the wedding progress, and to augment her newly acquired knowledge of things royal.

“Yes,” said Cameron, after the usual transatlantic pause. “You know, those little brown pellets that tell you where sheep have been…”

“In the palace?”

“No, of course not in the palace, twit. But just outside the gates of the palace and off to the right there is a rugby field belonging to the Royal High School. At least they use it for rugby. Apparently sheep also have the run of the field. Anyhow, when I was at Fettes-”

“You played rugby?” asked Elizabeth, momentarily distracted from contemplation of the palace.

“Yes, in the seventeenth fifteen.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I was an abysmal rugby player. The first fifteen is what you’d call the varsity, I suppose. They play in the school stadium and represent the school. And then you had a second team of fifteen players, and a third fifteen and so on.”

“And you were on team number seventeen?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose that’s why you played against sheep.”

“The better teams were made up of boys at higher grade levels than mine,” said Cameron reproachfully. “And I was rather thin in those days.”

“Get back to the sheep.”

“We played a Saturday-morning game against the Royal High School team on that field near the palace. I played fullback, where you stayed back and hoped the other team didn’t try to score. Nobody wanted to be tackled during that game because, as I said, the sheep used that field a lot more than the rugby team had. Of course, the other team’s colors were black and white, so there was a chance it mightn’t have shown up…”

“I trust the sheep won’t be grazing on the site of the garden party.”

“I doubt it, but you might want to wear brown shoes just in case.”

Elizabeth decided to ignore him. “Is it all set, then, about my going?”

“I think so. I hunted up Adam McIver, and he said he’d see what he could do.”

“Will we be able to go inside the palace?”

“Well, you can’t do as the sheep do, if that’s what you mean. But you won’t be able to wander about looking at tapestries, either. No tours while the royal family is in residence. It’s just an ordinary castle-paneled walls, paintings right and left, you know-the usual decor. Now, perhaps, at transatlantic phone prices, we ought to talk about the wedding.”

“All is well. The invitations are being printed; the department head has been placated; and the engagement announcement has gone out to the newspapers. I leave for Chandler Grove tomorrow. How are things in Scotland?”

“As far as wedding plans? No problem. Plane reservations are made and we’ve made all the phone calls to the relatives.”

“Solved your kidnapping yet?” asked Elizabeth.

“What, the gnome? No, but it’s the damnedest thing!”