Now her thoughts were all for Margaret. She knew that something was amiss. She could not imagine what was keeping Reginald. But perhaps she expected too much. Henry kept reminding her that he had not been gone very long and as he had impressed on him her deep anxiety he was sure the good doctor would make all possible speed.

When the party returned without the doctor and she heard that he was dead, she was in great dismay.

She fired questions at his attendants and wanted to know what he had found in Edinburgh Castle. They had not seen the Queen of Scotland, but they did know that Reginald had been horrified by the condition of the young Queen and he had said that she was more or less a prisoner of the Scots.

‘It is because he was bringing this news to us that he has been poisoned! Oh Henry, what are we going to do? We must bring our little girl home.’

Henry was horrified but talking the matter over with his brother Richard he realised that he could not make war on the Scots. Money would be needed for such an operation and he was already committed to helping the Pope in Sicily – a matter which was causing considerable complaint from his subjects who were being taxed to find the money needed.

Henry decided that he would send the Earl of Gloucester to Scotland with a suitable retinue and there arrangements must be made to give Margaret an establishment in keeping with her position, the regency disbanded, and Alexander and Margaret to rule as King and Queen.

This should be done, said the Queen, but it was not enough. She must see her daughter. Nothing would satisfy her until she had.

Since Eleanor was so determined that they must go to Scotland, go they must.

The Earl of Gloucester reported that the King and Queen of Scotland were now living together in their own establishment which was very different from their quarters in Edinburgh Castle. They would be travelling to Wark and Roxburgh and there they would meet Eleanor and Henry.

How delighted Margaret was! There was no ceremony. She must fling herself into her mother’s arms while they wept together.

‘I knew you would come. I knew you would never forget me,’ sobbed Margaret.

Eleanor laughed. ‘Forget one of my children! My darling, that I never would.’

‘Oh I knew everything would be all right if only I could reach you.’

‘It must never happen again,’ said Eleanor sternly, looking at her husband; and he assured her that it never would.

The mother and daughter would not be separated. Eleanor must hear everything that had happened since her daughter had parted from her. She told Margaret of their adventures in France, how she had met her sisters and her mother and how pleasant that had been – marred only because her darling daughter was not with her.

She told about Edward’s little bride.

‘A charming creature. Very young and she adores him already.’

‘Anyone would adore Edward,’ said Margaret; and Eleanor agreed with her.

‘You would like her. We must all be together before long. She has brought with her some tapestry which it seems in Castile they hang on walls and use on furniture. It is very pleasant and we are already using it in England.’

‘Oh, my dearest mother, how happy it makes me to be with you,’ cried Margaret.

They were going to make sure that there was no return of this monstrous behaviour, Eleanor assured her daughter. Those villains de Ros and Baliol had already been dismissed. They would regret the day they had made the Queen of Scotland a prisoner. Young Alexander was acknowledged as King and no petty little lords were going to prevent that.

‘Edward is coming to see you soon,’ said Eleanor, ‘and my love, we shall expect you at Woodstock before long. I tell you this; if you do not come, your father and I will come and fetch you.’

Margaret gazed at her parents with loving wonder. Hadn’t she always known they could put everything right?

MY SON! MY SON!

Richard had been watching events with a certain bitterness. He was angry with his brother for having bestowed the crown of Sicily on young Edmund without consulting him. He could have told Henry that that crown would have to be won and that it would be a costly matter winning it. Henry seemed to have no financial sense at all. He thought his coffers were magical and refilled as a matter of course as he emptied them. Heaven knew he had been in enough difficulties and should have learned that one of the reasons for his increasing unpopularity was his continual demand for money. Richard was different; he was rich … very rich. He respected money; he rarely gave it away though sometimes he lent it if it was profitable to do so. The foreigner-hangers-on had quickly learned that they could get nothing from Richard.

Since he had been on his crusade he had had some reputation in Europe. He was looked up to as a man of courage and importance, and the Pope had already offered him the crown of Germany. He declined this offer which he knew would have offended his brother-in-law Frederick II; but now Frederick was dead and so was the son Henry he had had by Richard’s sister Isabella.

The situation had changed and Richard did not greatly care for the way events were drifting in England. He could see trouble ahead, if Henry could not. Richard would not take sides in the conflict between Henry and the barons. His loyalty prevented him from siding with the barons and his common sense would not let him agree with Henry. Henry was a fool and his doting fondness for his wife made him eager to give her relations anything they asked; he seemed to have a fondness for foreigners for he showered gifts on them and showed this absurd generosity to his half-brothers and sisters.

He now let it be known that if the office of King of the Romans was offered to him he would stand for election.

There was another candidate for this honour. This was Alfonso of Castile, half-brother of the Infanta who was now Edward’s wife, and Alfonso had the support of the French who did not care to contemplate more English influence in Europe.

Richard’s reputation however carried him through. His valour in the crusade; the wealth he had amassed; his skill in keeping clear of the troubles which beset his brother, won the day for him.

He was elected King of the Romans.

He was exultant. This was his great opportunity. He had always wanted a crown and had resented the fact that he had been born too late to have attained that of England. Now he was a King in his own right.

Sanchia was delighted to be a Queen, of equal rank with her two elder sisters. Romeo had not been far wrong when he had said he would make them all queens.

Richard talked long and earnestly to her of their future. There would be certain trouble with the German Princes. It was fortunate that Alfonso’s half-sister was married to Edward; that would make it difficult for him to show hostility. They must prepare now to leave England.

‘And,’ he confided in her, ‘it could not be at a better time. Trouble is coming very near. The murmurings through the country are growing to a rumble. You should remonstrate with your sister. She could do a great deal to show the King the folly of his ways.’

‘It is impossible to advise Eleanor. She has always believed she knows best.’

‘This I fear is one of those occasions when she does not,’ said Richard.

He sent for his son Henry and when he came he told him to make his preparations for he wanted him to be present at his coronation at Aachen.

Henry could see how elated his father was and rejoiced with him. It would be a great pleasure to witness his triumph. He was a little sad at the prospect of leaving Edward, for their friendship had deepened since the mutilation of the youth and Edward’s genuine repentance had touched him.