So he sent for the boy in order to impress on him the sudden importance of his rank.

As soon as Angus came into his presence, Drummond was struck by his resemblance to his mother and aunts. His was a family with more than its share of good looks. Angus ought to go far.

“Now, my boy,” said Drummond, “I trust you are aware of the great importance of your new position.”

“Yes, Grandfather. I have had it impressed upon me, I do assure you.”

“And rightly so. You are now the head of one of the most important clans in Scotland, and it is no good thing that you should have been thrust into such a position so young. Alas for Flodden! Would that your father had lived to pass on the title to you in good time. But what is, must be. While you are here I want to talk to you on Court matters and then I shall wish you to accompany me to Court. There I hope to bring you to the notice of the Queen, and I have little doubt that if you are wise you will do well there. You have good looks and a great name.”

“Thank you, Grandfather. I am ready to go when you wish.”

“That is well.”

“There is one matter of which I would wish to speak to you. My paternal grandfather advised me that I should marry soon, and that I wish to do.”

“Whom have you in mind?”

“Lady Jane Stuart.”

“Daughter of the Traquair,” mused Drummond. “Hmm. If you are wise you will shelve that little matter for a while. There are affairs of more pressing urgency afoot, I do assure you.”

Angus felt faintly alarmed. He had a notion that his ambitious grandfather was not quite sure whether Jane was a worthy enough match for the Earl of Angus.

Not that I shall be influenced! Angus told himself. I shall choose my own wife, and that will be Jane.

It was April when Margaret’s baby was born. She christened him Alexander, and he was given the title of Duke of Ross. He was a beautiful baby, promising to be as healthy as her little James, and she was delighted with him.

Although she felt weak after his birth, this pregnancy had been slightly less arduous than those she had previously suffered; she was glad of this for she was uncomfortably aware of the strife which was going on about her. There were certain members of the nobility who were determined to bring Albany over from France. His deputy, de la Bastie, had already arrived; and her brother Henry was urging that on no account must Albany be brought to Scotland, for he would not tolerate a French influence there. There was another scheme forming in the minds of the pro-French party and that was to marry her to Louis XII of France. Margaret shuddered at the prospect. Aging Louis did not appeal to her as a husband; but there was a grim amusement in thinking of marrying the widower of that Anne of Brittany who had once caused her so much jealousy.

When I marry, thought Margaret, it will be someone young and handsome, someone like young Archibald Douglas. He was the Earl of Angus now — quite a considerable title. Perhaps it would be less incongruous for the Queen to marry the Earl of Angus than young Archibald Douglas.

Lord Drummond, who held the office of Lord-Justiciary of Scotland, had written to her begging leave to present himself. He wished to bring his young grandson to her notice. The boy had recently acquired the title of Earl of Angus; he was still in mourning for his grandfather — and alas, he had been doubly stricken, for he had not long since become a widower — but he was a young man of spirit and yearned to be at Court that he might more assiduously serve his Queen.

Margaret replied graciously. Lord Drummond must come to Court at once. She had heard of the sorrows of the young Earl and the new responsibilities which had been thrust upon him. She wished to give him her personal sympathy.

Lord Drummond had not felt so excited since those days when he had believed his daughter Margaret had so enslaved the King of Scotland that he would marry her. He was certain that he had discovered a passion as intense, and for another member of his family.

Why did the Queen keep young Angus at her side? Why did she unsuccessfully endeavor to hide the pleasure his company gave her? Why did her eyes gleam with excitement when he stood beside her? Lord Drummond knew the answers to all these questions.

What a handsome pair they were! Margaret a young and lusty widow. Angus even younger, a widower in need of a new wife. The trouble was that Angus seemed to be willfully blind to the portents. That was because he was mooning about Traquair’s daughter.

By all the saints, Drummond said to himself, what this could mean to our family!

He smiled. Life was ironical. Once it had offered him a similar opportunity. A daughter of his to marry a king. That had failed, through some foul murderer; but now his grandson might be the husband of the Queen.

He considered the matter. Should he talk to Angus? The boy was only nineteen and foolish without doubt, imagining himself in love with Jane Stuart. This had to be handled with the utmost care.

He invited the boy’s uncles to call on him, letting them know that he had vital family matters to discuss with them; and when Gavin Douglas, the poet and priest, came to Drummond’s apartments accompanied by his brother, Sir Archibald of Kilspindie, Drummond lost no time in telling them what he suspected.

“The Queen is enamored of young Angus, and this is no surprise to me. I believe him to be the most handsome man at Court.”

“You mean she is his mistress?” asked Sir Archibald.

“Nay, nay. You go too fast. She is deeply conscious of her royalty. The pride of these Tudors is greater than that of the Stuarts, my friends. She is in love with him but I doubt she would be his mistress. Nor do we wish her to. But I see no reason why she should not become his wife.”

The Douglases were too startled to speak. “Why not? Angus has a great title. Why should not a Douglas share the throne? Have you two so little regard for your family’s honor that you would raise objections to this?”

“Why no, indeed,” said Gavin quickly, “but is it possible?”

“Why not? Providing we act with discretion.”

“How so?” demanded Sir Archibald.

“The Queen is a young woman. She has been without a husband since Flodden. She sees our young Angus and is enflamed with desire for him. Can you wonder? He is a fine figure of a man. I have watched her. I have seen the signs.”

“The Council would never permit a marriage.”

Drummond snapped his fingers. “Who cares for the Council! If there was a marriage between these two it would have to be made first and the Council told afterward.”

“It is not a year since the death of the King.”

“We cannot afford to waste time, or they will find a husband for her. They tried to marry her to Louis XII.”

“They cannot do that now.”

“Assuredly not, since the King of England, determined to have no union between Scotland and France, has married his younger sister Mary to Louis.”

“That we know,” put in Drummond testily, “but the Council would find what they deem a suitable husband for the Queen… and that husband would not be Angus. Imagine Arran, for one, allowing a Douglas to be put above him. Nay, if there is to be a marriage it must be done with all speed, while the Queen’s feelings are hot toward our Angus, and before the Council can intervene.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“That we summon our handsome young man and impress upon him the need to do his duty by his family.”

“I believe the boy to have betrothed himself to Jane Stuart.”

“Then he must un-betroth himself,” cried Drummond. “Nothing must stand in the way of this match. Have you thought what it would mean to the family? A bishopric at least for you, Gavin Douglas, a fine place at Court for your brother here.”

“And for my Lord Drummond?” inquired Gavin not without sarcasm.

“My dear fellow, all the family could expect to prosper. I want your support when I explain to Angus where his duty lies. He must act with speed and caution. He must let the Queen know that he returns her passion.”

“Which he does not?” questioned Archibald.

“Then he must learn to,” retorted Angus’s ambitious grandfather. “I was once cheated of seeing my daughter share the throne of Scotland; I’ll not stand by and see my grandson kept from it.”

“What do you propose to do?” asked Gavin.

“Summon Angus and, with your support, tell him what he must do. Do you stand with me?”

The Douglases eyed each other. They were ambitious men.

“We’d be fools not to,” replied Gavin speaking for them both.

Drummond clapped them both on the back.

“I knew I could rely on you,” he said. “Now… for young Angus.”

Angus was bewildered. He looked in anguish from his uncles to his grandfather.

“You see,” he explained laboriously, “Jane and I have plighted our troth.”

“Plighted your fiddlesticks!” snapped Drummond. “I never heard such nonsense. Marry that girl and you are finished at Court, I tell you. Margaret will see that all you hope for is denied you.”

“All I hope for,” replied Angus, “is to live peacefully with Jane. I don’t mind not being at Court. We’ll be perfectly happy at Whitehorn or Tantallan.”

“Whitehorn and Tantallan! You forget you are the head of the house of Douglas, my boy, and whether you like it or not your clan looks to you to act accordingly. It is your solemn duty to put honors in the way of your family, and how could you do this better than by becoming the Queen’s husband?”

“But she has not said she would marry me.”

“What a young fool you are! It is for you to sigh and simper and show how you would if you dared. She’ll be ready and willing enough. If you were half a man you would have read the signs in her eyes.”