The Grey Lady

By Marion Leavens

This novel is based on the life of Lady Janet Douglas, sister of Archibald Douglas, the hated step-father of King James V of Scotland. With Janet we experience medieval life and the intrigues of a savage time, when great changes envelope the northern country as they battle the English desire to dominate and control their Scottish neighbours. She and her husband become involved in her brother's effort to gain and keep regency of the child king and thus control of Scotland. Through it all Janet struggles with an arranged marriage, with motherhood and the birth of an undesirable child and fear of reprisals from the king. Can the petite Janet escape the fate of the vendetta pronounced against her family by the angry young king?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marion Leavens
• Release date: Jul 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311585554

Marion Leavens

Marion cannot remember a time when she did not write, poems, skits, short stories or essays. She was a writing tutor at St Lawrence College in Kingston, Ont where she learned to hone her craft. It was when the last of her four sons left home that she began her first novel. Soon after beginning with pen in hand, she got her first computer and has sailed on into the literary seas, adding novels to her list of accomplishments. She and her computer reside in Napanee, Ont and share space with her husband, Jim, three grandchildren, Fran, Rayne and Darius and two dogs..

Book preview

A note to my readers

This book is a work of fiction, although Janet Douglas and her family actually existed in medieval Scotland. They are an integral part of Scotland’s history as are many of the other characters in the following story. I have done much research and tried to be as close to historical accounts as possible although the accounts vary and give limited information. As a result many of the events are factual although I have taken poetic license adding character traits and dialogue as well as portraying incidents as I thought they might have occurred. Many of the nobles have been given names, personalities and political agendas that are completely fictional, purely for the purpose of enhancing the story.

The Grey Lady

Sept 4, 2011

I first saw her out of the corner of my eye within a minute of the time I entered the heavy oak door out of the bright sunlight and into the dim light of the entrance hall of Glamis Castle, reported to be the most haunted castle in all of Scotland. There were fourteen in our tour group and we all stopped for a moment to let our eyes adjust to the dimmer indoor light. Once we could see, the group, including Jason, my handsome sandy-haired husband and I, began to move further into the room. I was the last one in line crossing the floor and as I gazed around, taking in the atmosphere of the beautiful setting, a movement in the gallery at the top of the stairs caught my eye and I glanced toward it. I might not have paid much attention to her at all except that, as I stopped and stood gazing at her, she turned her head to look down on the commotion in the hall and it seemed that she looked directly at me. She appeared to be little more than a shadow and I blinked my eyes to be certain of what I was seeing. As I peered up at her, her eyes looked into mine and drew me to her. I stood transfixed. I have thought of those eyes many times since that day and cannot forget the sensation I felt looking into them, for I was instantly convinced that she somehow sensed a connection between us and her stare was intent on letting me know that she saw me and perhaps knew why I had come. As I recall the moments we stood with our eyes locked upon one another, I marvel that I felt no fear.

Too soon, she turned from her post at the top of the stairway and silently moved a couple of steps away. As I watched, she slowly faded from sight and I knew at that moment that my trip to Glamis Castle was well worth the scrimping and saving we had done for more than three years as we pinched pennies and saved toward this day. I had taken a second job on week-ends at the corner store and we had forgone the trips out to dinner and the theatre that we love as we saved for this trip. Now here we were and, as unbelievable as it sounds, within minutes of arriving I had actually found what I had come seeking. There was no doubt in my mind that I had encountered my fifteenth great-grandmother and former mistress of this great castle, Janet Douglas.

The stories of the Grey Lady of Glamis Castle are not new and many visitors and residents have seen her spectral image in the castle over the years, walking in the halls and on the grounds, peering from a window and most often sitting with her head bowed in mourning in the chapel where a chair has been reserved for her use. When I first learned of her appearances here, I knew without a doubt that I had to seek her out. I had to know for myself whether the stories of the Grey Lady were true or if they were just folklore, told as an amusement to wile away the hours or to encourage tourists to visit the castle. I wished that I could speak to her to learn about her life and find out firsthand about the tragedy that would explain her unrest and the reason she would choose to visit this castle where she had lived during her adult life. Was it possible to know more about this petite, dark haired woman who had been born so long ago in the year 1495, a year I knew little about? As I stood rooted to the spot just a short distance from the front entrance, so many thoughts and emotions raced through my mind that it took me a minute to just draw breath and return to the present. I hurried after my husband who had walked on totally unaware of what had happened.

When I caught up with him, I grabbed his arm and hardly trusting my voice, asked, Jason, did you see that? My voice was little more than a whisper as I did not want to break the spell of the moment.

What?

At the top of the stairs.

What?

My voice rose with excitement. It was her – the grey lady!

Yeah, right! He looked at me with a lop-sided grin, as if he thought that I was pulling his leg. Come on, honey, we barely got through the door. Give it some time.

I’m serious Jason. She was right there at the top of the stairs. I saw her! So help me I saw her. And Jason, I was staring at her and she looked right back at me.

She looked at you! His voice was skeptical. Come on Rachel!

She did. I swear Jason. She looked right into my eyes.

Jason’s eyebrows knit together and he frowned. I knew that he thought I was imagining the encounter and I understood how he might think that. I had been dreaming of, planning for and working toward this trip for almost four years, specifically to find out for myself if the rumors about the grey lady wandering the halls of Glamis Castle were true. Had my desire to see her caused me to imagine the shadowy figure at the top of the stairs? For just a moment, the shadow of doubt crossed my mind and I considered the possibility of the figure having been that of one of the castle maids who just happened to hesitate at the top of the stairs. But then I thought of the face turned towards me with the eyes looking into mine and the way the figure turned and faded away as I watched and I knew for a certainty that I had seen the ghostly figure of Lady Jane Douglas, the Grey Lady of Glamis Castle.

Chapter 1

The world where young, brown haired Janet Douglas felt at peace was only six feet long, four feet wide and three feet in height. It had been here, in this small space in the banquet hall, under the heavy oak side table which Mother kept safely draped with a homespun cloth dyed a rich purple, that the child had felt safe. In the past months she had grown much too tall and too old to sit on the little stool Father had brought from the south of Scotland for her, but here she was. She was under the table for a specific reason. She had come to pack up the toy animals that had comprised her little kingdom for so many contented hours over the years. She tucked the skirt of her blue wool dress beneath her and prepared to put the little creatures in the basket she had brought for them. She smiled as she saw them lined up as she had left them so many months ago. There were Wooly, Molly and Spotty, the three lambs that her mother had fashioned for her years ago standing beside the black horse, Beowulf, that the head groomsman had carved and painted much to the delight of the little girl. The other animals that made up her menagerie were a small grey wool rabbit, which she called Harey, a piece of leather throng that she had carefully coiled to make into a snake that she had named Spit, and two birds, Squeaky and Fluff, that she had made from pieces of clay she had found in the nearby creek and covered with feathers from a pile near the stable. Here, hidden from view, had been Janet’s favorite place to play, safe from the bullying of her oldest brother. She had learned at a young age that there were days when it was very wise to keep out of her brother’s path and those days she found her secret place under the table to be her haven. Those were the days when father was gone and Archibald, being the eldest, was attempting, and too often succeeding, in asserting his authority over one and all in the large keep where the family lived.

Janet had spotted the young man earlier in his tight fitting green breeches and tan waistcoat with padded shoulders to give him the appearance of greater width through the shoulders, and had narrowly avoided him. He was five years older than Janet and far too important in his mind, as a future Earl, to pay heed to the younger children, especially to his sisters. Archibald had grown up knowing that the title, Earl of Angus, would one day be his and he was waiting impatiently for it to pass from his grandfather to his father and then on to him. Now at seventeen, he was impatient to be considered a man in his own right and to take his place among the men who were fighting to defend the country from the English. The current English King, Henry VIII, had named himself ‘Overlord of Scotland’ and wanted to rule the northern country in every respect, much to the chagrin of the Scots. Right now, Father, Grandfather and Uncle William were gone to battle at the head of a large Douglas contingent accompanied by friends, adherents and the peasants who worked the Douglas lands. They had ridden off in their battle dress to the cheers of all just weeks ago, while Archibald had been told that he was too young to go and had been instructed to remain at home. The more he thought of it the more it rankled. At the ripe old age of almost eighteen, which was in his mind was almost twenty, he was certainly old enough to take his place with the brave Scotsmen who had set out to exact revenge for the murder of the Scottish Warden Robert Kerr who had been killed by John The Bastard Heron on a ‘truce’ day in 1508. This event had happened at the worst possible moment and destroyed any hope of a truce at a precarious time when peace was being negotiated between feuding clans. Now, as a result of the death of Kerr, battle was the only answer. The Scottish Army, 30,000 strong, eager to avenge not only the death of Kerr but to finally put King Henry in his place, met the English in the north of England and waged bloody battle there.

Today, while the men were away, Archibald, pacing the floors and pondering over the great adventure he was missing, became more and more sour. Here he was, a future earl, home with the women and children while his father, grandfather, uncle and countrymen rode off as heroes to do battle. His pacing became more and more frantic and his mood grew surlier by the minute. By God, he swore, I’ll not be staying behind again. Father had no right to forbid me. I’m a grown man and will do as I please.

Doing as he pleased was something that Archibald had learned well over the years. Father was the only person the young man had obeyed in a long time and fortunately for Archibald and unfortunately for everyone else around the keep, Father was away much of the time. And Father’s absence had afforded the headstrong boy many opportunities to learn how to control the large Douglas household, from his mother and his brothers and sisters, to the cook and housemaids, to the groomsmen in the stable and the leaseholders who worked the land. Archibald had only to issue an order and it was obeyed. And Archibald loved nothing more than wielding his power to command others and seeing one and all hurry to do his bidding.

Yet there was another side to the young man. Despite his moodiness and overbearing personality it could not be denied that Archibald had a charm about him. He was tall with chestnut brown hair, clear, dark eyes and a handsome face with perfectly formed nose, full bottom lip and the beginning of a moustache over the smaller upper lip and when he chose to smile and speak politely, he found that people were only too eager to pander to his wishes. Those around Archibald soon realized that he possessed three attributes that could make him a great Earl, if he only learned to use them wisely. He was intelligent, no-one could deny that, he was charming as mentioned before and he was very ambitious. With the money and power which would one day be placed at his disposal, no-one doubted that Archibald would surely make a name for himself in the history of the war torn northern country that the Scots fought so bravely to defend.

But for now, Archibald was just someone his young sister wanted to avoid at all costs. Too often she had been bullied by her haughty brother who would twist her arm painfully or box her ears if she was slow to obey his orders, which came too frequently for her liking.

As the girl carefully placed the little toys side by side in the basket she had brought with her for the purpose, she thought of the changes that had happened in her life in the past year. Her long days of freedom, running about the grounds on warm days or playing under the table when the weather kept her confined, was a thing of the past. She was now at an age where she was under the constant tutelage of her mother, learning about the running of the household and preparing for the day when she would have a home of her own to manage. She and her two older sisters, Eliza and Alison were expected to follow Mam about and assist her while they learned about home-management responsibilities instead of their former classroom studies. She enjoyed the time spent with Mam and the girls but with the added responsibility came a loss of freedom for now that she was at the ripe old age of thirteen, she needed to learn the proper decorum for a young woman of title and her play time of necessity ended.

She smiled as her thoughts turned to Elizabeth Douglas, her strong-willed but soft-spoken mother, always dressed in conservative browns or blues and with her dark hair tucked primly under her white lace wimple. Mam, like many mothers of Scots nobility, was often left to raise the children while her husband tended to matters of state and she raised her brood of seven with a firm hand but a willingness to listen and an understanding heart. She was highly respected by the Scottish nobility and knew her place in the society of the times. She raised her boys to accept their place in the history of Scotland as boys of noble birth, born to devote themselves to freedom for Scotland from English tyranny, while she raised her girls to accept their role as wives of men of importance and women who would in turn raise sons to continue the struggle against their foe to the south. With her husband, George Douglas, gone so often, it had been necessary for her to have control over her children and the strict upbringing she had meted out had worked with most of the family. Only Archibald had been the exception. He was headstrong and determined to have his own way and would not listen to his mother’s admonitions unless by chance she was saying what he wanted to hear. Archibald, from an early age, had decided not to listen to the council of a mere woman and as a result what he had learned came from two teachers; one was his often absent father who taught what he could and when he could and the second was experience. Archibald had strutted around the land for years, giving orders and demanding respect. He had learned a gruff, severe way of dealing with the peasants and servants, but it was a method that worked for him. Now he could demand whatever he wanted from those beneath him in social standing or beg and coax those he considered his equals until whatever he desired was his. Until recently, life for the future Earl of Angus had been going just as Archibald had wanted it to. But now, he had been thwarted in achieving the greatest desire of his heart and he was beyond angry. He wanted to be with the men fighting for the glorious cause of freedom for Scotland and the fact that this had been denied him made him furious.

Janet froze as she heard his footsteps approaching and listened as they grew closer and closer to the table. She had guarded this secret place very carefully for a long time for she had known that if her brother had discovered this wonderful hiding place, she would have had nowhere to call her own. Out of habit, she wanted at all costs to keep silent until he wandered on. Her heart pounded with fear as he approached and she thought it beat hard enough to be heard by the surly young man. She closed her eyes and with great effort steadied her breath and remained motionless. There was no doubt in her mind that Archibald was angry. He had been angry for many days now, wondering how his father could have forbidden him from going on this great adventure. As he walked past the oak table, he smashed his fist on it muttering an oath that mother would have surely forbidden had she heard it uttered in her house. The table rattled from the impact of the clenched fist and Janet gasped before biting her lip and cowering under the table in an attempt to become even less noticeable as she forced herself not to cry out. It was soon obvious that her gasp was not heard and she was not noticed, for Archibald moved on. Once her heart had stopped pounding from fear, the dark-haired girl was able to relax and she soon finished the task of picking up the toys.

The banquet hall where the table was located was at the front of the large stone keep that provided shelter to the Douglas family and was set back on a rise of land about eighty feet from the narrow lane that meandered under the massive trees along the River Tyne in East Lothian at Haddington. To the west of the keep, across the meadows, where flocks of sheep could be seen grazing on warm days, were the green Garleton Hills bunched against one another like rows of corn kernels still hugging the cob. To the east, if one stood at a window in the garret as Janet and her sister Margaret had done on occasion, one could just make out the sea, looking like a wide blue ribbon spread along the horizon. If one followed the lane east he would go past Hailes Castle and East Linton and then were he to turn north, he would soon find himself approaching Tantallon Castle where it perched on a cliff overlooking the sea. Janet knew that some day Tantallon would be her home, but for the time being, this keep in Haddington, where George Douglas had brought his wife to live after their marriage, was home. One after another, the children had arrived as the keep stretched to fit the young family. First Archibald had been born, named for his grandfather, the current Earl of Angus. He was followed next year by George, then Elizabeth (Eliza to her family), William and Alison, then Janet and her younger sister Margaret. Together with the cook, the steward, a seamstress, two maids and a scullery maid and in the stable two grooms and a stable hand, they filled the keep to overflowing. But no-one complained (except perhaps Archibald who was certain that he deserved a better home) for the family was only too aware that at the death of Grandfather, her father, as Master of Angus, would succeed to the title and with it gain possession of Tantallon, at which time he would move there with his family to take his father’s place as Earl of Angus. But the title and the castle would have to wait, for right now George Douglas was fighting to defend Scotland from the English who for generations had wanted control of the beautiful rugged country to their north and the hardy men who would fight bravely to the death to defend her.

As she was about to crawl out from her spot under the table, young Janet suddenly stopped and listened carefully. She was sure that she heard something unusual in the distance outside. As she listened, she recognized the sound as the pounding of horse’s hooves that were growing ever louder and she realized that they were approaching the keep. Since the keep was in a rather remote area and the family was not in the habit of entertaining visitors when Father was away the girl became very curious. She wanted to know what was happening even though she knew that if she was discovered in the entry hall, she would be sent upstairs to her chamber. But curiosity led her to find a hiding place where she could observe the goings-on unseen. She crept out from under the table, quickly crossed the room and entered the front entry hall being quiet as a mouse so as not to be discovered. Something unusual was happening and the determined girl had every intention of finding out just what it was. It was not unusual for men to gather within these walls to discuss the future of Scotland but that was when Father was home. So what would bring horsemen here today? She slipped behind a heavy tapestry hanging on the wall across from the fireplace and almost immediately heard a loud pounding on the door. Gwynn, the steward, appeared and hurried across the room to fling the door open to admit three men clad in heavy wool wraps against the cold late September wind. With a customary bow of deference, Gwynn greeted the men and once they were inside, pushed the heavy door closed behind them.

Ach man, be about it and fetch yer mistress. We have news. A huge man with bushy red hair and even bushier whiskers spoke. Janet, from her hiding place could not see who was speaking but was certain that she had heard that voice before although she could not remember whose voice it was. The men moved to the blazing fire in the fireplace as Gwynn again bowed slightly and scurried away to announce their presence to his mistress.

When Elizabeth entered the massive hall, she greeted the three men, G’day sirs, welcome to our home. Would ye care to sit and partake of some mead while food is prepared?

Nay madam. We are here on an unpleasant duty and cannot tarry long. We ‘ave come with the tragic news that your husband, Master of Angus, has fallen at the hands of the English at Flodden.

Janet tried to understand what was happening. Father has fallen! He must be injured, the thought raced through her mind. They would not have come unless he needs help. But why come here? What on earth do they expect Mother to do? Why did they not bring him home to be cared for? And why is mother so quiet? She has not spoken a word.

Janet heard familiar footsteps hurrying down the hall and she shrank back further behind the tapestry to avoid being seen by her brother. His voice rang with authority as he demanded, Sirs, may I inquire the reason for this visit?

The three men looked in surprise toward Elizabeth who spoke in a flat, strained voice, This is my eldest son, Archibald. Archibald, I believe you know Lord Yester. These other goodmen are Gordon MacGregor and Rob MacIntyre.

The men nodded to the boy then turned their attention back to Elizabeth. We regret the need to bring this unfortunate news to this house. On September 9, we were defeated by the treacherous English under command of the Earl of Surrey. Our liege James succumbed to a fatal injury. We have come with news that many a brave Scot including the Master of Angus have fallen.

Grandfather was there as was Uncle William. What news of them? Archibald replied, immediately aware that this news greatly impacted his future.

William, too, fell bravely in battle. Lord Angus returned to Scotland before the battle ensued and is even now at Tantallon Castle grieving the loss of his two sons. We left there just this morning to bring this tragic news to you.

Father and Uncle William! Archibald was shocked at the news. Tis hard to believe this has happened.

Aye, ‘tis a great tragedy! All of Scotland is in mourning for the brave men lost, especially the loss of our liege, King James. We, among others, have been commissioned to carry the sad news to the families of those who perished in the cause of Scottish freedom. The loss of life at Flodden was great and many yet wait to hear the fate of their men. We must press on.

Cook will prepare victuals for you before you leave, Mother spoke softly, And your horses will be fed and watered. I shall fetch Gwynn to look to your needs. But I must tend to my children. If you will excuse me. With a slight nod to the men, she turned toward the stairs.

The meaning of the news brought to them had dawned on the girl behind the curtain and she was for a moment unable to move more than to shake her head in disbelief. She stepped out of her hiding place as her mother hurried by and was instantly confronted by the stricken look on her mothers tear streaked face. Elizabeth’s hand was over her mouth and tears were coursing down her cheeks as she hurried across the hall. She stumbled slightly as she reached the broad staircase and began her ascent not having noticed her young daughter who now understood with sinking heart what had happened. Father had perished at Flodden Edge. He would not come home again. His booming voice would not ring out as he entered the keep. That voice had been stilled forever. His joyous laugh at the antics of his offspring was gone from their lives. He would not bring any more trinkets home to his children or to his beloved wife. Young Janet wondered how the family could possibly carry on without father riding up to the door to bring a smile to mother’s face at the joy of seeing him returned home safely. Everything in the whole world was changed and the girl wondered whatever would become of them now.

Chapter 2

On a cold, windy day, just three weeks after the news had arrived of the death of George Douglas, Master of Angus, and his brother William in battle, a carriage pulled up before the keep. This time it was Alison who first heard the horses on the drive and announced the arrival of a visitor. She, in company with Eliza and Janet, stood in an upper window to watch the traveler disembark. The man was bundled against the cold in a brown wool cloak that showed fur along the edges and a fur hat that was pulled down around his ears. He had almost reached the door of the keep before Eliza gasped, I think ‘tis our grandsire. But see how slow his walk.

Nay, it canna be him. Janet shook her head in disbelief. Gransser is far younger than the man before us.

Well, Alison added. I will go downstairs and find out who it is. Are you coming?

Aye. Did you think we would stay up here with a visitor downstairs? Tis not likely."

In minutes the girls had run down the stairs where they discovered that indeed the visitor was their Grandsire, Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus. He was stooped under his heavy woolen cloak and his gait, as he covered the distance across the gallery to the fireplace, was halting and not at all what it had been just a matter of weeks earlier. Elizabeth hurried to help the old man remove his cloak and hat and seated him near the warmth of the blazing fire. Gwynn, she instructed. Put the Earls cloak away and add fuel to the fire. Then send to the kitchen for hot food and a hot toddy.

Within a very short time, her instructions had been carried out and his temporal needs met. Then the good woman knelt by her father-in-laws side and reached for his cold, trembling hand. She was shocked to see the change in this once vibrant man who had ridden off to battle just two short months earlier. His grey hair hung lank and appeared as lifeless as the sad, drawn face that appeared before her. It is good to see you, M’lord. But as pleased as I am to have you come, I am surprised to see you on such a cold damp day. You have suffered from such a cold trip I fear.

Aye, that I have, but I felt a burning need to come. The old man looked into his daughter-in-law’s eyes.

We have both suffered a bitter blow.

No blow could have been more bitter.

I cannot fathom the grief of losing two sons.

The old man nodded, ’Twas a hard blow for me and for their mother. I returned from battle early without them. Would that I had stayed.

’Twould have made no difference in the outcome and perhaps you would have been lost, too.

Aye, ‘tis true. But that fact gives me no comfort.

Are you too tired to greet the children? They are here on the stairs.

Bring them forward. They are all that I have left of any consequence.

Elizabeth signaled the children and they came forward to press kisses on the cold cheek of the old man. Good day, Gransser. The greeting was repeated again and again as the six younger children flocked around their grandfather. His hand reached out to them and he placed it on the head of each one in turn. To the girls he admonished, Ye must obey your mother and prepare to be good wives when the time is right.

His words to the boys were, Learn your lessons well, for the day is coming when strong men will be needed to protect our fair Scotland and you will be called upon. Wear the name of Douglas proudly, as did your Da.

All of the children gave an oath to do his bidding and then on the advice of their mother, retired to give the elderly man a chance to eat the food that had been placed before him.

He nibbled some of the stew and sopped up some of the gravy with the chunk of bread he had been given but it was the hot toddy that seemed to invigorate him. After he had eaten all he wanted, he turned to his daughter-in-law and cleared his throat before beginning. Elizabeth, I will get right to the reason for my visit as it is most important. Ye must ken that the deaths of George and William have changed things.

Aye ‘tis no doubt this is true. In truth, Archibald had talked of little else, for he had realized very quickly that with both his father and uncle gone, his prospects had indeed changed.

"As my firstborn son, George was in line to become the next Earl of Angus. Now he is gone. But he leaves a son to inherit the title. When I am gone, my namesake, despite his young age, will inherit the title and all that goes with it and I fear he still has much to learn. He must be prepared to take his place in the peerage and I worry that he might have little time to prepare. Recent events have taken a heavy toll on me and I do not know how much time I have left to teach him.

Do not speak of such things, M’lord. We need you. Scotland needs you,

Scotland needs me to prepare my replacement.

What can I do to help?

Elizabeth, you must give him up. You have done your best with the boy but it is not enough. I have come to take Archibald back to the castle with me where he might learn his impending role in the leadership and defense of Scotland.

Elizabeth lowered her head, I agree. You are right, M’lord. We have done our best by him but I fear that he has much to learn.

He will be taught his place in Scotland. I do not wish to add to your grief, but I feel I must act now. I suddenly feel old and must prepare for whatever lies ahead.

Elizabeth nodded and with a sigh, stood. When did you wish to leave?

"I need to rest tonight for I