The Thistle and the Rose

The Queen's Third Marriage

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.

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 both 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.

When an opportunity came to speak to Lennox of his feelings he did so; and although Lennox was cautious there was a tacit agreement between them that when the time was ripe the King should escape from Angus’s care.

Angus made a habit of taking the King about the country with him; and on one occasion when they had traveled to the Border in order to suppress the robbers there, they were intercepted by two thousand men who, under a certain Scott of Branxton, made an attempt to kidnap the King and free him from Angus. This attempt was defeated.

Lennox was present when it took place, but he made no effort to ward off the kidnappers; and it was not due to him that they were repulsed.

Shortly afterward Lennox joined the Queen, who was always ready with plans for escape. They decided that next time an attempt to free the King should not fail, and they began to plan.

It was agreed that Lennox should ride to Borough Moor near Edinburgh with only a few horsemen, and take with him eight spare horses which would be for the King and seven of his trusty servants who would escape with him. It should not be difficult for a message to be conveyed to the King at Holyrood, and with the help of certain members of his suite, who were in league with Lennox, for James to make his way out of the Palace.

Margaret, with Harry, waited impatiently at Stirling to receive James.

“And once he is with us and we have raised the lords against Angus, the power of the Douglases will be no more,” she announced confidently.

James was at the window ruefully looking out at Arthur’s Seat. Each day he grew more restive. He often told his attendants that he would like to have Angus hanged on the nearest tree. How much longer was the Douglas going to be allowed to rule Scotland? Was there no one in the land who had enough love of his King to set him free?

He knew some who loved him enough to attempt it. There was his mother for one. There was Lennox for another. He knew now that Lennox was his friend. He could not long remain a prisoner. Then let Angus beware. He would hound him from Scotland. For, he thought, there will not be room in this country for Scotland’s King and the Earl of Angus.

One of his pages was plucking at his sleeve.

“Your Grace, there is someone at the door.”

James started up and said: “Who?”

But before the page could answer, the door was opened and a man burst unceremoniously into the room. His eyes were wild and, seeing the King, he came straight to him.

“Your Grace,” he said, “forgive this intrusion. I am the Master of Kilmorris and I come from my lord Lennox.”

“Speak on,” said James eagerly.

“My lord Lennox is at Borough Moor; he has horses waiting. If, under cover of darkness, you can leave the Palace and find your way to him, he will conduct you to safety and the Queen.”

“This is good news,” cried James. “Kilmorris, my friend, I shall remember this when I am free of Angus.”

“Your Grace, I serve you with my life.”

“I thank you. Now tell me of the whereabouts of Lennox, and I will summon those whom I can trust to help me.”

There was a commotion at the door and another of the King’s pages ran into the apartment.

“Your Grace,” he cried, “it is known that a stranger has entered the Palace. The guards are being called out. They are coming now.”

Kilmorris turned pale, guessing what his fate would be if he were discovered. James looked at him with horror, for he also knew. It was clear to them both that there could be little chance of escape now, but James was not going to allow the faithful Kilmorris to be taken if he could help it.

He looked about him eagerly and said: “Quick! Follow me.”

He ran from the apartment with Kilmorris at his heels; he slipped through a door and they ran down a spiral staircase. They were both breathless when they came to a door which the King pushed open. “This is the coining house,” said James. “You can get away through here. They will not think you could go this way. Go at once and I will return to my apartment.”

Kilmorris thanked his King and James hurried back to his apartment to find that Angus had already arrived with some of the guards. When the Earl saw the King he gave a shout of relief.

“Your Grace,” he cried, “thank God you are safe. I heard that our enemies had invaded the Palace.”

“Is that so?” answered James coolly.

“It was doubtless a false alarm. So eager are my men to preserve Your Grace’s safety that they are sometimes overzealous.”

James inclined his head and walked somewhat haughtily to the window.

He stood there looking out, glad that Angus could not hear how loudly his heart was beating.

He will have left the Palace by now, James was thinking. Now he will be safe.

But although Kilmorris escaped, Angus did not believe that it had been a false alarm. He doubled the guards about the King, and the result of that little escapade was that James was more of a prisoner than ever.

But James was not going to endure such conditions. Hearing that his mother had come to Linlithgow, he sent for Angus and told him that it was long since he had seen the Queen and he wished to do so.

Angus, realizing that his enemies were gathering against him and that Arran was only with him because he was the enemy of Lennox, decided that the King must be humored; and he gathered together a small army to accompany the King to Linlithgow.

On the road between Edinburgh and Linlithgow Angus’s army met Lennox and his, and a skirmish ensued. Lennox and his men were determined to take possession of the King; Angus and his were equally determined not to let James go.

“Keep the King in the rear,” Angus ordered, and the bridle of James’s horse was taken by George Douglas, whom Angus could trust as he could few others.

James, watching the battle, was looking for the opportunity to slip out of George Douglas’s grasp and make his way to the other side, when George, realizing this, laughed grimly.

“You should bide where you are, sir,” he warned. “For if they get a hold of you, be it by one of your arms, we will seize you by the leg; and we’ll pull you into two pieces rather than part with you.”

“I’ll not forget that, George Douglas,” said James.

“’Twill be well if you’ll remember it, sir,” was the answer.

Rarely had the young King known such fury as that which now gripped him. He, the King, to be so treated, to be told they would rather see him dead than in the possession of their enemy. Indeed he would remember this. As long as he lived there would be no place in his kingdom for a Douglas.

But when he heard that Lennox had fallen, his anger changed to sorrow. Lennox, the guardian he had loved, the man who he had believed would rescue him from the hated Douglases.

Angus, triumphant with victory, was riding toward him. The battle was over, and James was a prisoner still.

Margaret was in despair. The power of the Douglases was as great as ever, James remained in the custody of his stepfather, and the Douglases were in all the important posts of Scotland.

She hated the cold of December in Stirling Castle, and she was beginning to despair of ever attaining her freedom, proclaiming Harry as her husband and enjoying the company of her son.

Then the miracle happened, when dispatches from Rome arrived for the Queen.

From Rome!

Margaret cried out that the messengers should be brought to her without a moment’s delay.

She read the documents and felt the hysterical laughter rising within her.

It had happened at last. The Cardinal of Ancona, whom Clement VII had appointed to judge her case, had given judgment in her favor.

She had her divorce.

She was no longer married to Angus.

Those were wonderful weeks which followed. Harry was constantly in her company; they planned their future and her first act was to redeem her promise.

She and Harry were married.

But, she reminded him, there would be opposition to the marriage, for there was bound to be jealousy among the lords, and they must act cautiously. She remembered how disastrous life had become when she had secretly married Angus, and they agreed that they must be more cautious this time.

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.

She was no longer Margaret the Queen, fighting to retain an untenable position; she was Harry’s wife, contented and at peace.