Matt Ford

Mary watches, stomach churning, as Darnley plunges a dagger into her secretary's limp, blood-soaked body, then stand back and offer a sickening smile to the rebel lords that surround them.

So now Mary's watching her husband unexpectedly stab her secretary.

He's an Italian man.

Good looking, by all accounts.

Okay.

And obviously what Darnley's trying to do is make out that Mary has been tonking the secretary.

Completely fictitious.

What is fact is that in fact Darnley had been tonking this secretary.

That's right.

Mary moves her gaze to one of the Lords as he addresses Darnley.

You watch her.

We'll rally reinforcements, Your Majesty.

Mary trembles as the rest of the nobles charge from the room, knives raised.

Mary squeezes her eyes shut, forcing down panic.

She's certain her only chance is escape.

She looks back at her husband, who swipes a flagon of whiskey from the table and begins to pace anxiously.

Mary refuses to believe he's enjoying this, or that such brutality was his idea.

Henry, please, this isn't right.

Mary watches Darnley halt and eye her with suspicion.

She takes a deep breath.