by Jean Plaidy
Magnus glanced at Harry, but Margaret waved an imperious hand. “All that you have to say may be said before the Lord Chancellor.”
Magnus was clearly surprised that such a young man should hold the office, but he said: “My master, the King of England, declares himself to be overjoyed at the prospect of the match you propose. At this time a marriage alliance exists between the Princess Mary and the Emperor Charles; but this is a match which my master would be happy to see abandoned for the sake of one with Scotland.”
“This is news I have longed to hear!” Margaret told him.
“But,” interjected Magnus, “it would be necessary to keep the proposed alliance between Scotland and England a secret until that between England and the Emperor has been officially abandoned.”
Margaret nodded; she turned to James and Harry.
“I am so happy,” she said. “I have always longed for this. My son the true King of Scotland, and friendship between my native land and that of my adoption.” The glance she gave Harry was warm and secret. She wanted to say: And I love and am loved.
But of course he understood.
“I know,” she went on, “that my brother has my welfare at heart. He has not understood my desire for a divorce and has opposed me in this matter, but I feel sure, now that there is this understanding between us, he will no longer put obstacles in my way. I do not forget how he keeps the troublesome Angus in England, knowing how it would embarrass me if he returned to Scotland.”
And then, my love, her loving glances told Harry, there will be an end to this secrecy. I shall let the whole world know how matters stand between us two.
Magnus took out the letters and gave them to her.
She sat at the table with James on one side of her, Harry on the other; and while they were thus engaged there was a knock on the door.
Margaret looked up startled; she had given orders that she was not to be disturbed except in an emergency. She could not believe that she had been disobeyed.
“You may enter,” she called.
One of her pages opened the door, and a man with the stains of travel on his clothes stood there.
“You have news?” asked Margaret, rising.
“Yes, Your Grace, and I thought it should be brought to you without delay. The Earl of Angus crossed the Border this day and is now in Scotland.”
IN THE DARK OF NIGHT A BAND OF HORSEMEN WAS making its way toward Edinburgh. At its head rode Angus, his face grim with purpose. Beside him rode Lennox and Buccleugh; they had joined him because they were not prepared to take second place to Harry Stuart.
What a foolish woman she is! thought Angus. Again and again she throws away that which she values. First with me; now with this Stuart fellow. Thank God for a fool!
“We're within a mile of the city,” he murmured to Lennox. “Who'll go ahead and scale the walls and unlock the gates to let us in?”
“There'll be plenty of volunteers for that duty,” answered Lennox.
Angus nodded. Circumstances had changed him from the young boy with whom the Queen had fallen in love. He was an ambitious man now, yearning to rule Scotland. And as the Queen's husband—he was determined to hold out against the divorce—it was his place to control the Queen's son.
He was determined to get James into his possession; then he could demand what terms he liked to make with Margaret.
He had heard that she constantly referred to him now as my lord Anguish. Let her. She would see that he could cause her anguish enough. He had Henry of England behind him; he had made sure while he was at the Court of England that Henry had understood his sister's leanings toward France through Albany. Henry disapproved of Margaret's obtaining a divorce; he had accepted Angus as his brother-in-law from the first, and continued to do so.
The walls of the city loomed ahead in the darkness and Angus called a halt.
Lennox gave a sign and several men dismounted and crept toward the walls. There was silence among those who waited which seemed to go on for a long time; then the gates of the city were thrown open. Dawn was beginning to show in the sky when Angus and his men marched into Edinburgh through the High Street to St. Giles's Church.
There was an atmosphere of expectancy in Holyrood that night.
Margaret was conscious of it. It was due to the fact that Angus was in Scotland, and she could not feel safe while he was there.
Harry Stuart was in her bedchamber; it had become common knowledge that he was her lover, and Margaret's passion was too ardent for her to submit to subterfuge. Her love for this young man was apparent in every look she gave him, and she knew it was no use attempting to hide it. Better to show it in—as some called it—a brazen manner. She was not ashamed of her love, nor was he.
“Harry,” she said, “I have not felt at ease since I knew Anguish had crossed the Border.”
“We'll be a match for Anguish when the time comes,” Harry assured her.
She took his hand and kissed it. “My blessing,” she murmured. “What comfort you give me!”
“That is my great desire and always will be,” Harry told her.
He was very pleased with life which offered him so much honor and so much devotion from the Queen.
“It seems oppressive,” Margaret said, “in spite of the November cold.”
“Let us to bed,” replied Harry. “I promise to drive off the oppressive atmosphere and the November cold.”
She laughed and kissed him.
“Harry,” she said, as they lay in each other's arms, “I fancy you have been quiet of late. Is there something on your mind?”
“It is not easy to keep troubles from you. Your eyes are so sharp.”
“Then something is worrying you.”
“I'm afraid, my love.”
“Afraid! You, Harry? I do not believe it.”
“Afraid of offending you. If I did, I think I should walk out of this apartment and leap down from the topmost point of the Palace.”
“Don't say such things! I can't bear it. Tell me, what has made you feel thus?”
“Something which happened long ago and of which I have not told you.”
“Someone you loved?”
“Or thought I loved,” he said. “I did not know love until I knew my Queen.”
“And this… someone you thought you loved?”
“I married her.”
“I see. So she is your wife. And you visit her?”
“Not since we told each other of our love. In truth she is no longer my wife. I have divorced her. It was easy enough.”
Margaret was silent for a few seconds, then she said: “Tell me her name.”
“You would not know her. She is Lady Leslie. My love, my Queen, you are angry with me for keeping this secret?”
“Oh, no, Harry, my darling. I could never be angry with you. And why should I be now? You married her before we met. You kept her existence a secret from me, fearing to hurt me; and you tell me now because she is no longer your wife.”
“Oh, Margaret…if you were the humblest maiden within these city walls, I would love you and count it an honor to be your husband.”
She lay against him. “Thank you for telling me, Harry. It is always so much better to be told than to discover. I have been hurt by the men whom I have loved. Let us swear now that we will never keep secrets from each other. If our love fails we will tell. If we are unfaithful we will tell. Do you promise?”
“There will never be occasion to tell.”
“I know, my love, but let us swear all the same.”
So in the quiet of that night they swore; they made love; and they slept. But not for long.
Margaret released herself from her lover's arms as the disturbance outside her door roused her from her sleep. There was a faint dawn light in the room and she could hear the sound of shouting in the streets.
Hurrying into the antechamber, she called to her women who helped her to dress, their teeth chattering, their fingers fumbling as they did so.
&nbs
p; Now there was a hammering on the door.
“Who is there?” called Margaret.
It was one of the guards. “Your Grace,” he cried, “my lord Angus is in Edinburgh. His men have scaled the walls and let the invaders in. They are already in the streets on the way to the Castle.”
Margaret understood. They would take the Castle. They would take James from her.
She ran from her apartment, calling the guards as she did so. “The invaders must not enter the Castle. Send a message at once to the guards that the cannon are to be fired on them as they advance.”
The quiet early morning was broken by the roar of the cannon.
Margaret stood tense, waiting. And after a while news was brought to her that the invaders were retreating from the castle precincts.
Angus and his friends, alarmed when the Queen had ordered the cannon to be fired on them, left Edinburgh and took temporary refuge at Dalkeith and then retreated still further to Tantallan.
As soon as the city was free of them Margaret made plans to leave Holyrood, and that night, with her son, led a procession by torchlight to the Castle. There, in that strong fortress, she felt safe, but only temporarily.
She knew that the Douglas faction was too powerful to be easily vanquished, and what she dreaded more than anything was that Angus should force her to return to him.
It was ironical to contemplate that the return of Angus had been made possible by her own brother; Margaret was very uneasy regarding the relationship between herself and Henry, and she decided that her first move must be to alienate Henry from Angus.
The situation was filled with dangers. Scotland was teetering on the edge of civil war. The Douglases were growing bolder than ever now that Angus was back and it was believed that he had the support of the King of England. They had already shown their intentions by murdering Lord Fleming on the very threshold of St. Giles's, solely because Fleming was a friend of Albany's and his sister the Regent's mistress; the Douglas faction had determined to thwart the French, and for this reason alone would have had the support of the English.
Never had it seemed more true that a friend one day might be an enemy the next. Margaret, who had previously longed for peace between England and Scotland, was now wondering whether France would not be the more substantial ally.
It was all very well for Henry to offer the Princess Mary to James; but Margaret believed that Henry was contemplating divorcing Mary's mother, Katharine of Aragon, because, as she had been the wife of his brother Arthur, her marriage with himself was invalid. Then would Henry offer a bastard princess to the King of Scotland!
Letters from France reached her. Albany had a suggestion. His wife's niece, the daughter of the Duke of Urbino and Marie of Boulogne, was one of the wealthiest heiresses in Europe. It was true that Catherine de Medici was not royal, but Albany believed she would be a very good match for the King of Scotland.
Margaret feigned to consider this but James's marriage could wait.
In the meantime there remained the menace of the Douglases; and it seemed to her that the most urgent matter of all was the need to obtain her divorce from Angus.
In exchange for a divorce she offered him a portion of her dowerlands which would bring him in a good income. He refused the offer and his refusal was ominous. The more so because the Parliament, realizing the power of the Douglas faction, had decided that he should be included in those selected to take over the guardianship of the King. It had been arranged that Angus and the Archbishop of Glasgow should have the guardianship of James for three months; Arran and the Bishop of Aberdeen for the next three; Argyle and Chancellor Beaton next, to be followed by Lennox and the Bishop of Dunblane. Thus it seemed that none of these ambitious and able nobles should have the King for too long a period in his care.
On a bleak February day the King was escorted to the Tolbooth in the state procession. With him rode his mother; and before them Angus solemnly walked, carrying the crown, while Arran held the scepter and Argyle the sword.
It was the first time in years that Margaret had seen her husband, and she found it difficult to look at him without emotion.
He had not lost his handsome looks for, although the freshness of youth was no longer his, he would always be extremely distinguished in appearance.
If he had been a faithful husband, she told herself, we could have found great happiness together.
She was aware of Harry among those riding with her. Poor boy! He looked apprehensive, fearing, she knew, that she might return to Angus. She wanted to comfort him. Never would she forgive Angus for the unhappiness he had caused her. No! She had given her love to Harry Stuart now, and as soon as she could she would marry him. He was to be her last love.
In the Tolbooth, when the ceremony of opening Parliament was completed, Margaret rose to tell the assembled lords that her greatest desire was for peace throughout the realm.
It was arranged then that a Regency should be formed, with the Queen as the principal member, which should be made up of lords temporal and spiritual. The latter consisted of St. Andrews, Glasgow, Aberdeen and Dunblane; and the former were headed by Angus, Arran, Argyle and Lennox.
On the surface it was a peaceful meeting, but there were many hard looks directed toward Harry Stuart; and several of the lords whispered together that although they accepted the Queen as a member of the Regency they would not accept her paramour.
The meeting over, the King made his way back to Holyrood with the Queen. Not far from Margaret rode Harry Stuart, very pleased with himself, and not in the least disconcerted by the curious and hostile glances cast in his direction.
Young James was uneasy, knowing that he was to be passed to the custody of Angus for the next three months, and because he adored his mother and knew how she hated her husband he was displeased. He would have preferred to be in the care of Lennox whom he liked best of all of those selected to guard him.
Margaret sought to comfort him.
“Never fear,” she said, “we will find some means of rescuing you. But I doubt not that he'll be a lenient guardian. He'll not dare be otherwise. You are the King and even though as yet you are a boy who must obey these men, it will not always be so and they'll remember that. And while you are with him you can do your best to persuade him to the divorce.”
James said he would do his best; and while they were together Harry joined them.
“You are looking disturbed,” said the Queen tenderly.
“I have just been warned,” he replied, “that the Douglases have sworn to murder me and my brother James this night—if we remain in Holyrood.”
“Harry!” cried Margaret, and she began to tremble. “But,” she went on quickly, “they must not find you in Holyrood. You must leave at once.”
“Leave you and the King!”
“I know you would stay to defend us, but these Douglases are a ruthless clan. Harry, you must leave at once. Take your brother with you. I shall not know a moment's peace while you are here.”
“But to leave you…”
“It is a command,” said Margaret firmly.
Harry looked from her to the King, who said: “Yes, Harry, you must go. My mother and I would be deeply grieved if harm should befall you.”
Harry bowed and retired, but Margaret followed him to his apartment and they remained some seconds in a close embrace.
“My love, how can I go?” demanded Harry.
“How can you stay when it might mean your death?”
“I would not care…”
“But I would. Nay, Harry, this is farewell but not for long. Go to Stirling and remain there. I shall be with you erelong, for I cannot bear to live apart from you.”
There was another passionate embrace which was interrupted by the arrival of Harry's young brother James.
Margaret regarded him sadly—such a handsome boy!—then she kissed him on the brow.
“Take care of each other,” she cautioned. “And now …go quickly.”
They b
oth kissed her hands and, when they were gone, Margaret was for a time cast down.
Her lover gone to Stirling; her son in the care of Angus. This was a day of mourning; but it was not her way to accept defeat.
She was certain that soon she would be divorced from Angus and married to Harry; soon the power of the Douglases would be overcome; soon her son would rule in truth with herself and Harry in the background to guide him.
The rule of the Douglases had begun.
When the period of Angus's guardianship had elapsed, he simply refused to give up the King. He had by this time set the members of his clan in the highest posts and as Douglases from all over Scotland rallied to his banner his followers grew in number. Any ambitious man who hoped for honors placed himself in the service of the Douglas; Angus had the King, and although it was said that James V ruled Scotland now, the real ruler was Angus.
Margaret, angry and alarmed at her husband's growing power, watched events from the shelter of Stirling where she had joined Harry and his brother. The subject which dominated her mind was the divorce. She longed for it passionately and she was desperately afraid that the growing power of Angus would enable him to prevent her obtaining it.
James himself was fast growing away from boyhood. He was going to be as handsome as his father; he was strong-willed; very skilled in the joust and the hunt, he surpassed his companions in these fields. In order that he should not allow himself to become a mere tool of ambitious men, Margaret had impressed on him his need to assert himself, and James had learned that lesson thoroughly.
He had learned also to hate Angus, and the arrogance of his stepfather did nothing to endear him to the young boy. Deeply he resented firstly being made Angus's prisoner, for that was how he regarded himself, and secondly being obliged to give his assent to matters with which they scarcely bothered to acquaint him.
While he was under the care of Angus he was continually plotting as to how he could escape. He believed that, once he could rid himself of Angus's rule and escape to his mother, he would rally the loyal lords against the Douglases who must be hated because they were feared so much.