Виктория Холт: The Thistle and the Rose

“When?” cried young James.

“As soon as I am sure that we can act with safety,” was the answer. “Now I propose to go on a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Ninian when in truth I shall be mustering the lords of Galloway whom I have reason to think will be faithful to our cause.”

“And soon,” cried James, “I shall leave this prison. Soon I shall show my subjects that I am in truth the King.”

There was a wildness in the tawny eyes that might have alarmed Margaret if she had not been so elated. She looked from her beloved son to her lover and put an arm about each of them.

“We are together in this,” she murmured, “and we cannot fail.”

There were many to rally to the Queen’s cause. Albany was gone and loyalty to him was waning as it always did when he was no longer in Scotland.

Moreover it was obvious that James would be a King who, in maturity, would make up his own mind and would not thank those who stood against him now. There was the future to think of. James was determined on freedom and would remember those who helped him to it. So there was very little opposition when the King decided to break through his guard at Stirling Castle. When he rode in triumph to Edinburgh his people came running from their houses as he entered the capital city.

“Long live the King!” they shouted. “We have a king to rule us once more.”

And indeed James had the look of a king. What did it matter that he was so young? Youth passed all too quickly. The boy would soon be a man. Another such, they said, as his father. And they remembered the bonny man; remembered how his eyes would gladden at the sight of fair maidens, and his handsome looks and the show he gave them at the jousts when he was always champion. They forgot that he had led their men into unnecessary battle; they forgot that he had died before his time on Flodden Field.

They only remembered his charm and beauty and they said: “James V is another such as James IV. Long live the Stuart. Long live the King!”

So James with his mother rode through his capital and came to the Palace of Holyrood; here they stayed because they had decided to use it as their residence while they remained in the city.

Harry Stuart swaggered about Edinburgh. Rarely had a young man risen so rapidly to power, and many were asking why.

What had this Harry Stuart to bring him such posts as Treasurer and Lord Chancellor? What of those able lords whose experience and rank entitled them to these honors? Why should these be given to a younger son of an obscure nobleman, who had only just begun to be noticed about the Court?

Of course he was handsome; he gave himself airs; he had a knowing look.

They remembered the rise of Angus, and asked themselves if this was an old story repeating itself.

So just as Margaret was beginning to win the respect of the lords she was doomed to lose it. Scotland was prepared to accept the boy King as their ruler; and since he was devoted to his mother and desired her to act as Regent, they were ready to acquiesce. But to set up this nobody — simply because he had a handsome face and a bragging manner — was unendurable.

There was not a lord at Court who was ready to knuckle under to the Queen’s paramour. They complained together of the Queen’s loose living and told themselves that they had not supported her that she might rule Scotland with the help of Harry Stuart.

Margaret was unaware of the grumblings. She was so happy to have her son and lover contented. They were three happy conspirators — all certain of success.

She wrote to Henry in England telling him that she had successfully flouted the restrictions placed on James by Albany, and that the boy was now in Edinburgh recognized as King. She thought that James should be turning his thoughts to marriage, for although he was as yet young, his betrothal was of great importance to him and to Scotland. Nothing would delight Margaret more than to accept her dear niece, the Princess Mary, as her daughter; and knowing her dearest brother’s affection for his nephew (who bore such a striking resemblance to himself) she felt that he would not be averse to accepting him as his son.

Thomas Magnus, Henry’s ambassador, arrived in Scotland with Henry’s reply to this proposal, and when Margaret heard that he was in Edinburgh she was eager to see him without delay.

James and Harry were with her when she received Magnus, who told her that his master was pleased to hear that James had freed himself from the restraint put on him by Albany and that he hoped that now there would be an end to the strife between their two countries.

“My brother must be assured that this will come to pass,” Margaret replied. “Pray tell me what was his comment on my proposal concerning the Princess Mary.”

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?”