My rooms were in the Douglas Tower, which was seven storeys high. I loved to stand on the battlements and look far into the distance, imagining that I could see mermaids and sea monsters. Father saw to it that I had every comfort and was honourably housed and looked after, whatever my brother James said later about his not treating me as my birth merited. I did not see much of Father at first because he was often in Edinburgh, much occupied with ruling Scotland, but his influence was everywhere. He wanted me to grow up a true Douglas, rather than an English Tudor. Later, when we were thrown together more, an enduring bond was forged between us. Hurt by my mother’s indifference, I turned to him. He was protective towards me and affectionate. He often told me I was the woman he loved most in all the world.

I had been at Tantallon for just a few months when, soon after his sixteenth birthday, James declared himself of age and asserted his royal authority as king. The first thing he did was throw off the constraints imposed on him by Father, which he found hateful, and escape to our mother at Stirling Castle. Before long, he had toppled Father from the regency and forbidden him and the Douglases, whom he loathed and feared, to come within seven miles of his royal person. Then he began ruling by the advice of Mother and Harry Stewart, whom he created Lord Methven.

Father came to Tantallon, seething yet willing to retire peacefully from politics, but James tried to force him and all the Douglases into exile. When they stayed firmly put, he threatened them with imprisonment. Father retaliated by refortifying Tantallon against attack by the royal forces. It was a tense time, but we both felt safe in the castle. It has long been said that to ‘ding doon’ Tantallon Castle is to achieve the impossible. Even so, the storm clouds gathered over our heads. James had Father attainted as a traitor, sentenced to lose his life and forfeit his property to the Crown. The same sentence was passed on my uncle, George Douglas, and Father’s cousin, Archibald Douglas of Kilspindie. They both fled into exile. Father stayed where he was, but he was a marked man and so feared capture or assassination that he had his loyal lords keep watch, in full armour, at his chamber door each night.