“Margaret, your brother is no friend to you.”
“I shall agree with you if he is ready to make Angus his friend.”
“That he is eager to do. Moreover, he would give Angus the help he needs to come back to Scotland and form a party to work for English interests and plot the downfall of the King. So you see, he is working against you.”
She was silent. There was so much truth in what he was saying.
“France would be a better friend to you,” went on Albany. “The King of France would grant you a pension; and if at any time Angus returned, and he made life difficult for you in Scotland, honors would be waiting for you in France.”
“Could I be sure of this?”
“I promise you it would be so, upon mine honor.”
“Your honor, my lord?”
“Come, I do not break my word. When did I ever swear to you that I had loved no other woman?”
“’Tis true enough,” she answered.
“We must be reasonable, Margaret. A marriage between us would doubtless do much to bring peace into Scotland. I am now a widower, and if you obtained your divorce you would be free.”
She did not speak; she was thinking how much she would have given such a short time ago to hear him say those words. Now she could listen to them calmly; and she was thinking: Never would I marry you. I have no wish to marry you. You are aging and jaded, and my Harry is so young and tender. He thinks it the most wonderful thing in his life that a queen should love him. When I am free, it is Harry who shall be my husband.
She pretended however to be persuaded. She would let him think that she would marry him; then she would show him how much he meant to her, in the same way as he had shown her.
Revenge was still sweet, so perhaps even now, with Harry’s caresses fresh in her memory, she still had some feeling toward this man.
She would go along with him, hide her true feelings; for if her brother was going to be the friend of Angus so that he regained his power in Scotland, her divorce might be delayed still further, and it would be well to see what France had to offer her.
“There shall be a bond between us,” said Albany. “I will have it drawn up and you will see what advantages will come to you through friendship with France.”
“Yes,” she answered, “let there be such a bond for me to see.”
Now that she was on friendly terms with the Regent, Margaret returned to Stirling to her son and lover. Albany had impressed upon her the need to obey the Council’s injunctions, which were that the King should be kept under restraint for his own safety. She listened quietly and had appeared to acquiesce, but she and Harry together discussed their plans, which were that as soon as the opportunity offered itself the King should be nominal head of the party which they themselves would lead.
That was an uneasy winter.
A quarrel flared up between Margaret and her brother, for her enemies arranged that a copy of the bond to which she had agreed with Albany should be sent among her papers to England.
Henry was furious. Whom could he trust, he stormed, if not his own sister? To think that she was considering making terms with France after all he had done for her.
Margaret shrewdly replied that she herself had had the bond sent to Henry in order that he might understand Albany’s intentions; but Henry was not mollified, because he did not believe her. He guessed that she had heard of his invitation to Angus and because of this was seeking friendship with France. It was a sorry state of affairs when brother and sister must quarrel, grumbled Henry, but he had done all he could to keep his sister from losing her kingdom and her soul; he saw that he might be forced to abandon her if she did not mend her ways.
All this seemed unimportant to Margaret, because of her love for Harry Stuart.
Meanwhile Albany was getting desperate because he was not allowed to return to France. He had written to his friends there, assuring them that it was impossible to persuade the Scots to fight against England. He could no longer serve France, and he begged permission to return.
At last he was allowed by France and Scotland to do so and, before departing for Dumbarton where his ship was waiting for him, he went to Stirling Castle for a last interview with Margaret and her son.
He asked to be alone with Margaret for a few moments so that he could say goodbye to her. She granted this request, exultantly recalling the last time he had left and the sorrow she had felt then.
“This is not goodbye,” he said to her, and he held out his hands.
Margaret pretended not to notice the gesture, and walking to the window, looked out.
“We are sorry to see you go, my lord,” she answered.
“I hope that soon you will be free,” he went on.
“I too hope, as I have for so long.”
“And then,” he added, coming to her and standing close, “we shall be able to make our plans.”
She inclined her head. Her plans were already made, but she was not going to tell him what they were. It would give her some pleasure to refuse his offer of marriage when it came, because, she realized now, she would never really feel indifferent to him.
“Margaret, my dear… ”
She turned and smiled at him vaguely. “I must wait until I am free before I can make my plans,” she replied, and moved away from him.
“How you have changed toward me,” he said sadly.
“Time never stands still for any of us, my lord.”
He sighed and, realizing that it was no use talking to her as a lover, said: “Margaret, the state of a country is always uneasy when the King is not of an age to govern. There are too many ambitious men waiting to seize power. I pray you have a care.”
“The care of my son has always been my first and most important task.”
“That I know well, but it is necessary to act with the greatest caution. I beg of you, do not attempt to bring him out of his boyhood too soon.”
“You must trust me to study his welfare in every way.”
“Margaret.” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. It was the gesture of a lover toward his mistress. “Let us part as friends.”
She smiled and, gently disengaging herself, offered him her hands.
“Farewell, my friend,” was all she said.
He drew her to him and kissed her with passion. He still had a slight power to move her. But she was thinking of Harry and their plan to make the young King head of a party which they would lead. All this would be possible, once the Regent had left for France.
Let him think that the kiss she gave him was the kiss of a friend. She could feel little rancor toward him now. Let him go. What did it matter? She was happy with her Harry; and thus she intended to remain for the rest of her life.
Now that Albany had left Scotland, the time had come to carry out that plan which Margaret had cherished for so long.
Closeted with her son and Harry Stuart she told them what they must do. “The King is coming into his own,” she declared. “I, no less than he, am weary of this delay. We must seize our opportunity, and as we have many friends it will soon come.”
Young James and Harry were enthusiastic, and their eyes shone with anticipation, because both saw through this a change in their present situation. James had his eyes on a future when he should be King in more than name. Harry was dreaming of the day when Margaret would keep her promise to make him Treasurer of Scotland, and give the Great Seal into his charge. Nor would that be all; as husband of the Queen great titles as well as honors would be his.
“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.”