As they hurried down to the hall they heard shouts from without. Now the angry glow seemed all about them and they could hear the crackle of flames.
They were joined by the Earl and some of his men.
“It started in the stables,” he said. “I’m afraid they’re completely burned. But I believe we have saved the castle. There is no need to fear. We can remain here. The fire is under control.”
It was a wretched night, for although she returned to her apartment she did not sleep; she stood for a long time with her ladies at the window watching the smoldering remains of the stables, and when news was brought to her that her two white palfreys had been burned to death, Margaret threw herself onto her bed and wept like a child.
Her dear palfreys whom she had loved so much, who had carried her so far!
“I shall never have palfreys that I love so much,” she mourned.
But in the morning there came a tender message from the King. He had heard of the disaster which had befallen his bride and was much concerned. He was coming to see her that very day but first he suggested that, as Dalkeith had been unlucky for her and she could not be as comfortable there as it was his desire she should be, he wanted her to leave at once for Newbattle Castle which was not far off; and there she would stay until her entry into Edinburgh and their true marriage. “Only a few days it will be, long enough for me to court you in a fitting manner.”
She brightened up when she heard that message and immediately she and her train set out for Newbattle.
She was so far composed as to have settled into the new residence and was playing cards — which she loved to do — in her apartments when a visitor was announced.
She started up and cried out in delight to see him. Now he looked more like a king, in black velvet jacket with a crimson velvet border and an edge of white fur.
Margaret returned his kiss, and he sat down with her and commiserated with her over last night’s unfortunate occurrence.
She told him about her white palfreys and wept. “For they were dear beasts,” she said, “and I loved them.”
“My Margaret has a tender heart,” said the King. “But do not weep, for it grieves me to see you do so. There will be other palfreys and we should rejoice that you are safe.”
She blinked away her tears and said that he made her happy.
“Why,” he answered, “you know nothing of happiness yet. Only wait until we are married in the sight of my people.” He clapped his hands. “Could we not have a little music? I fancy, my love, that you like it, even as I do.”
The minstrels began to play and the King asked Margaret to dance for him with Lady Surrey as she had at Dalkeith, which Margaret was happy to do; and watching her radiant face, which such a short while before had been so sad, the King told himself that she was only a child after all.
Being a lover of music, he himself must perform, and this he did with great skill on the clavichord. Margaret clapped her hands and declared that she had never heard such playing. Then he took a lute and played to her so sweetly that she was completely charmed.
“I am sure,” said James, “that there are others in the company who can amuse us.” And Margaret signed to Sir Edward Stanley to play the clavichord and sing.
“A wonderful English ballad,” commented the King, and called one of the gentlemen who had accompanied him from Edinburgh to Newbattle. “The two of you sing together,” he commanded.
And they did so, harmonizing so perfectly that everyone present applauded with enthusiasm — not only for the singing but because that was a symbol of the new friendship between the two countries.
But once again James must take his leave. As he left he whispered to Margaret: “Would I could stay this night with you.” He almost meant it. She was so young and fresh, and he was tiring of the mistress he had taken since the death of Margaret Drummond. “Alas, kings and queens must conform to the rules laid down for them… much as they would wish otherwise.”
Margaret’s flushed cheeks and shining eyes told him that she shared his wish.
“A few more days… ,” he murmured.
And she repeated: “A few more days.”
She insisted on accompanying him out to his horse, and he with his followers and she with hers left the apartment together.
He embraced her once more and then leaped onto his horse without putting his foot into the stirrup — a feat which everyone applauded. He turned, pulling off his hat, and bowed his head to Margaret before he galloped away.
These pleasant days of courtship were the happiest Margaret had ever known. The King would ride out to Newbattle; she would play for him on the lute and clavichord as he had for her; and everyone noticed how attentive he was, and how he always remained with his head uncovered in her presence.
Always there was conversation and music, and at last came that August day when she was to make her ceremonial entry into Edinburgh.
Her women were dressing Margaret in a gown of cloth of gold edged with black velvet; they were placing about her neck pearls and precious stones, when the Countess of Surrey came in to tell her that a gift from the King had arrived. This was two palfreys to replace those which she had lost in the Dalkeith fire.
Margaret clasped her hands in pleasure.
“Do you know,” she said, “I believe I have the best husband in the world.”
The ladies exchanged glances. It was true James was handsome, charming, courteous and kind; but they had heard certain scandalous gossip and they were inclined to believe it was true; and they did wonder how their high-spirited and headstrong little princess would act if and when she discovered there was truth in this gossip.
In the meantime it was well that she should enjoy her ignorance.
Riding in her litter, Margaret was met by James on the road to the capital. She was filled with delight when she saw him approaching, because he looked magnificent. His jacket was made of cloth of gold, and it opened to show that it was lined with purple velvet; about it was a border of black otter fur; his waistcoat was of purple satin and there were pearls and precious stones about his person, while his scarlet hose added an extra touch of color; and he looked very fine on a horse whose saddle and harness were of gold, and bridle and headgear of shining silver.
As he approached he sprang from his horse, and coming up to the litter, kissed Margaret. Then leaping onto his horse, he turned and rode beside the litter, while his gentleman-usher took out the sword of state from its scabbard of purple velvet and carried it before the King.
James was smiling at Margaret. “Are you prepared to enter your capital city?” he asked.
“I am longing to do so.”
“I am going to take you in on my horse,” he told her. “It is meet and fitting that I should do so!”
“You mean I shall ride pillion?”
“Why not? It is what I wish, and it is what the people will wish. Will you be afraid on such a fiery horse as mine?”
“I would never be afraid if you were there.”
“Ah, Margaret,” he told her “you are too trusting.”
He was frowning. “I would never forgive myself if you were thrown,” he went on. Then he shouted to one of his men to mount behind him pillion fashion to see how the horse reacted to the extra weight.
When it was clear that the horse was not pleased with the arrangement, the King said: “Nay, I’ll not risk this. Bring one of the Queen’s palfreys.”
The palfrey was brought and when the King had mounted and Margaret had been placed on the pillion, they prepared to journey into Edinburgh.
But there was much to be seen before they reached the city, for the King had determined that his people should show his bride a royal welcome. In a meadow about half a mile from the city they must pause and watch a joust between two knights, which had been staged for their benefit; when this was over a tame deer was released and a greyhound set to chase it.