David could scarcely wait for the boy to grow up, so eager was he to introduce him to music and poetry. But he never for one moment forgot how important to the country was this young life; and in those early days he gave his attention to his bodily needs. It was a great pleasure for Margaret to visit his nursery, and hear from David how her son was progressing. He was a beautiful baby, full of good health; and while this was so, other matters seemed of far less importance.
All the same Margaret did want to make peace between her brother and her husband. She had thrown herself into this project with great zest, partly because she was a woman who would always want to rule; partly to take her mind from young Archibald Douglas whom she saw frequently and of whom she was thinking far too much.
When she received the English ambassadors she greeted them with warmth and asked many questions as to the health of the King and Queen of England. His Grace, her brother, she was told, was in fine good health; the Queen, due to her recent disappointment, a little less so.
“My poor sister!” said Margaret with feeling. “I beg you, when you return, tell her that I pray for her continually and I hope with all my heart that in due course she will be as happy as I. Now tell me, have you brought me news of my legacy?”
“Yes, Your Grace. The King, your brother, will most willingly send it to you.”
“Ah,” cried Margaret, “I knew he would. Then when will it arrive?”
“His Grace makes one condition. It is that the King of Scotland makes solemn promise to keep the peace with England and to sign no treaty with France.”
Margaret was startled. She knew that James would not consider such conditions, and she was as far from receiving her jewels as ever; and moreover, relations between her native land and that of her adoption were going to suffer greater strain.
“And if my husband refuses to accept these conditions… ?” she began.
Dr. West answered: “Your Grace, it grieves me to say this, but I repeat the words of my master. If the King, your husband, is determined on a state of war between England and Scotland, the King, my master, will not only keep the legacy but take the best towns of Scotland also.”
Margaret was fearful; she could almost hear her brother’s blustering boastful voice.
She was seeking for some rejoinder when James entered the room to see how the interview was progressing. She was glad that he had not heard those last ominous words.
It seemed imperative to Margaret that she heal the breach between her brother and husband. This dabbling in politics brought a new excitement to her life at a time when she needed it.
On several occasions in the dance she had found herself partnered by young Archibald Douglas, and she was thinking of him more frequently.
James was inclined to listen to her, but she knew that this was due to his natural courtesy rather than to any desire for her opinions. James was headstrong and believed in making his own decisions; if he would not always take the advice of his ministers it was scarcely likely that he would listen to that of his wife, who must necessarily lack their knowledge and experience.
“Why, James,” said Margaret, “it is possible that I might persuade Henry to bestow on our little James the title of Duke of York. Poor Katharine of Aragon seems unable to give him male heirs — so why should not our child benefit?”
James was dubious. He had never trusted Henry; he never would. And every day he was receiving the French ambassadors and making excuses to avoid the English.
Margaret was doubly disturbed. News had come to her that her brother Henry had already sailed for France to make war on Louis XII, leaving his wife, Katharine, as Regent during his absence.
How like him to be so impetuous! thought Margaret. He had sought to win from James a promise of peace that he might go to France without thought of an enemy’s attacking from the North; but since he could not win this, he had acted without it.
Henry with the flower of his army in France! What would James do now?
She soon discovered. James was longing to make war on his insolent brother-in-law and naturally this was the ideal time to do so.
He was closeted with his ministers who were, Margaret was thankful to realize, not so eager to plunge the country into war as their King was.
James must be persuaded to remain at peace. He must understand that Henry was new to kingship; he had for long been subdued by his father and, now that he was King, was determined to be master. He had always seen himself as a leader of men, so it was natural that now he wanted to see himself as a conqueror. Margaret, who had known the boy Henry so well, believed that the man was not so different. Let him try his wings in France; then he might not be so eager for battle. That was what she wanted to explain to James.
But James’s chivalry was touched from an unexpected quarter.
The Queen of France, Anne of Brittany, had written to him to tell him that when her husband’s embassy had returned to France they had recounted to her and the king how they had been entertained in Scotland, and how at the jousts there had been one known as the Wild Knight who had beaten all comers. She had often thought of the Wild Knight, a great gentleman; in fact she had thought of him as her knight, and she was sending him a token of her regard.
The token was a ring of enormous value. She begged him to wear it for her sake.
She was sorely distressed at this time because the English troops under the brash young English King were on French soil, and she was, in truth, appealing to the chivalry of her Wild Knight. Would he consider helping a lady in distress?
James put the ring on his finger and thought of the French Queen who wrote to him so eloquently. He pictured her at her table writing to him, the tears in her eyes; and his heart was softened. He believed that it was in his power to bring great joy to her, and to himself, by defeating the English.
He answered this appeal immediately by sending his ships — the James and the Margaret — to the French coast, and he put the Earls of Arran and Huntley in command of them.
Then, because it was against his idea of true chivalry to declare war on a country whose King was absent, he dispatched his Lord Lyon in full herald’s dress to Henry’s camp at Terouenne to announce that he was declaring war on Henry for the following reasons:
Henry had taken Scotsmen prisoner; he had withheld the legacy of Margaret, Queen of Scotland; he had slaughtered the Scottish Admiral Andrew Barton; and by these deeds he had broken the peace existing between England and Scotland.
Margaret was dismayed. She had so longed to show her brother the influence she held over her husband. And without telling her what was afoot, he had made himself the knight of the Queen of France, giving way to her, while his beautiful young Queen was ignored.
Margaret awoke. It was night and, stretching out her hand, gently she touched the sleeping body of her husband. So near, she thought, and yet so far away.
She remembered then riding into Scotland and how she had changed her dress on the roadside because she had wanted to look her best for him; then she had fallen deeply in love with him and for a time had believed herself to be loved.
It seemed now that the whole of her married life had been an affront to her pride.
She began to weep.
“What ails you?” It was James’s voice in the darkness.
“Oh, have I awakened you? I crave pardon for that.”
“But tears! Why?”
“It was an evil dream.”
James, who was almost as superstitious as his father had been, was alarmed. He believed fervently in the significance of dreams.