Виктория Холт: The Thistle and the Rose

Her divorce was being discussed above and below the Border. Her brother Henry wrote of how the news had shocked him. He wanted her to remember that the divine ordinance of inseparable matrimony was first instituted in Paradise, and he could only protest against this shameful verdict which had been sent from Rome.

Margaret laughed hilariously.

“Do you know, Harry,” she said, “my brother Henry is the biggest hypocrite living. He is seriously thinking of ridding himself of poor Katharine. Of course he is going to say that he was never truly married to Katharine. Well, nor was I to Angus. He was betrothed previously to that woman of his. Henry should remember that.”

But she and Harry were too happy to care. The glorious thing had happened. She was free and she had married the man she would love as long as she lived.

Of course they could not keep the marriage a secret forever.

The news that her divorce had been granted reached her in December. In March she made a declaration to the country: “Now that I am free I have married again; and my husband is Henry Stuart.”

Angus was furious when he heard that Margaret had been granted the divorce, but when he learned of her marriage to Henry Stuart he could not control his rage.

“How dare she so demean herself!” he shouted. “She shall be sorry for this. It is an insult to me and to Scotland.”

He went to the King and asked him what he thought of his mother’s action.

“I do not presume to judge the Queen,” answered James coldly.

“Your Grace, she has lost all hope of keeping her place in the Regency.”

“Has it occurred to you that soon there will be no need of a Regency?”

“Indeed that is so, but just now there is need for a Regency, and we are going to Stirling to see that this upstart, Henry Stuart, receives his just deserts.”

“And what are those?”

“Your Grace jokes. He shall be thrown into prison. He has no right to marry the Queen.”

“But she gave him that right which was hers to give.”

“Your Grace is too young to understand the implications of this.”

“Ah,” retorted James. “It is the old story. I am always too young.”

Angus was so disturbed that he did not notice the King’s coolness. They must set out at once for Stirling, he said, and the King must accompany the party which should go, because it was in his name that Harry Stuart should be arrested.

How angry was young James as he rode toward Stirling. He thought of Lennox, dying from wounds inflicted by the hated Douglases. He thought of his beloved mother and his friend Harry Stuart. They loved and married; and because the Douglas had not wished them to do so they were to be parted.

If he were but King in truth!

He thought of all the things he would do. He would embrace his mother first, then Harry, and tell them he hoped for their happiness. And then he would cry: Throw that man in prison. And he would laugh aloud to see the astonishment on the face of Angus.

“I hate the Douglases,” he muttered as he rode along.

But power was still in the hands of the Douglases.

Angus strode into Stirling Castle and demanded to see the Queen.

She faced him defiantly, but when she heard his demand that Harry be brought forth, and when she saw his guards lay their hands on her husband, she was alarmed.

She cried out: “James, you are the King… ”

James wanted to intervene but he knew it was useless; there was nothing he could do, and he could only stand by, black hatred of the Douglases in his heart.

So they took Harry Stuart and threw him into a dungeon.

And they left Margaret weeping for her newly married husband.

It seemed now that the country was completely in the control of Angus. He was the uncrowned King. The Queen, who had retreated to Edinburgh, was forced by him to give up the Castle. She so feared for her life that she hid herself on the moors and lived the life of a shepherdess, surrounded by a few faithful friends who adopted the same disguise.

Harry escaped from his dungeon and, when she received a communication from him, she joined him at Stirling and they made the Castle their refuge.

James was scarcely a boy now, for he would soon be seventeen. Time enough, he believed, for him to throw off the yoke.

The lords surrounding him watched his hatred of Angus growing and, ever ready to change sides, they believed that it would be wise to do so now.

Margaret with Harry and his brother James made a new plot, and messages were smuggled in to the King. Margaret let him know that she was taking the precaution of fortifying Stirling Castle so that very shortly it would be completely garrisoned; a good place for the King to come to and make a stand against his enemies.

She wanted him to know that there was none who worked more zealously for him than his mother and his stepfather, Harry Stuart; she hoped that when it was in his power to do so he would remember all Harry had done, and reward him. The Lordship of Methven, she suggested, would be a suitable honor. James should think of it.

James did think of it. He would be very ready to reward Harry, or anyone who could help him escape from his hated position.

Angus had moved him to Falkland Palace, and one by one James was winning over the servants to his side. He knew whom he could trust, and it would be a simple matter to slip out with the help of guards who had ceased to be the servants of Angus and wished to serve their King. Horses would be waiting for him; then away to Stirling.

It proved to be as simple as he had thought it would because he had been right when he had believed that there were few now who wanted to disobey the King.

So one night James walked out of Falkland, mounted the waiting horse and rode full speed to Stirling, where he was received with great rejoicing by his mother and her husband.

Next day the royal standard flew high over Stirling Castle. The King was a boy no longer; he had come into his own. He was ready now to rule Scotland. He was going to reward his friends — and woe betide his enemies!

How happy Margaret was now.

James, her son, was King in truth, and there would be no more separations; Harry had been rewarded and was now Lord Methven and Master of the Royal Ordnance; men were deserting the Douglases and rallying to the King; there was nothing to do but rejoice.

James, who would never forgive Angus for the years he had spent as his captive, declared his intention of throwing him into prison. But Angus was not easily captured, though he was put to the horn and declared a traitor in every town in Scotland and a prize of a hundred marks was offered to any who could bring him, dead or alive, to the King. His estates were seized and divided among the loyal nobles who were only too eager to receive them.

Yet none caught Angus, and news eventually came to Margaret that he had escaped into England. This was good news, except for one thing. He had taken their daughter, the Lady Margaret Douglas, with him, and Margaret’s hopes of regaining the guardianship of the girl were frustrated.

She was very anxious about her daughter until she heard that the Princess Mary had taken her into her household. Then she consoled herself that, as cousin to the Princess, she would be well treated. As for Angus he would be received well at Henry’s Court for Henry had always been his friend.

Well, she had lost her daughter, but she had her son, who showed in a hundred ways his regard for her; she had Lord Methven, her dear Harry; and there was no longer the need to plan James’s rescue because James was free and in his rightful place.

She had enjoyed intrigue, but she was growing too old for it. Perhaps now she would settle down happily to the life of wife and mother, for she was young enough to bear children. She would retire from the glare of public life and be content to shelter in the brilliance of her son.