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The Follies of the King Page 6
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She began to suspect that he was a little lazy. So much the better. She had energy enough for them both. He would discuss everything with her. They would work together but it would be her will which would be done.
Oh, she was deeply content in her marriage.
* * *
The King of France walked arm-in-arm with his son-in-law in the gardens of the palace.
‘It gives me the greatest pleasure,’ said Philip, ‘to see your happiness with my daughter.’
‘Your daughter is the most beautiful girl in France,’ replied Edward.
‘I see we were meant to agree.’ Philip gave his sly quiet smile. ‘It is a good augury for the future, my son, when France and England walk together in amity.’
‘There will be many in France and England who will rejoice at this time.’
‘My dear son, let us keep it so. Let us make a vow of friendship.’
They were both ready to swear to that for neither would be entirely scrupulous if the need arose to break a vow or two.
‘You have heard of the wicked doings of the Templars, I doubt not,’ went on Philip.
Edward replied that he had. It was difficult to be in France and not know that they were being arrested all over the country and put to the torture in castle dungeons where they admitted that they were guilty of the most horrifying crimes.
‘There can be no peace in countries where such wickedness is allowed to flourish.’
‘That must be so,’ agreed Edward.
‘What of those who have sought refuge in England? There are many of them.’
‘Oh, many of them.’
‘You must hunt them out. You must not allow them to pollute your country.’
‘Oh no, they shall not,’ replied Edward; he was not thinking of the Templars. He was wondering how Perrot was faring and whether he was having trouble with the barons who had been so jealous about the Regency.
‘Arrest them. Bring them to trial. Make them confess their abominations. It is the only way.’
‘Oh yes, the only way.’
‘Put them to the torture. Nothing is too fierce for them. You will wring the confessions from them. Then you confiscate their goods. They have managed to build up treasures, I can tell you.’
‘I am sure of it.’
‘Why should that wealth not be used in the service of the country?’
‘Why not indeed.’
‘I shall be interested to hear what comes of this.’
‘You shall be kept informed.’
The King of France looked satisfied. They went into the palace together.
‘I am glad you are of my opinion and that we are in agreement on this matter,’ said Philip.
What matter? wondered Edward lightly. What had the old man been talking about?
Isabella joined them.
‘She is upbraiding me for keeping her husband from her,’ said Phillip with a roguishness which did not match his shrewd face.
Isabella took Edward’s arm. ‘Well, I have found you now.’
‘We have had an interesting talk,’ said her father, ‘and we see many things from the same angle. This is a happy time for our two countries.’
Phillip led them into his private chamber and there he took a key from his chain and opened a wooden box with a strong iron lock. From it, he lifted a heavy chain of gold studded with rubies and diamonds of an unusual size and of great beauty.
This he placed about Edward’s neck.
‘A gift to you, my son. An outward sign of our promise to work together.’
‘Magnificent!’ cried Edward.
The King took a ring from the box. It was set with rubies and diamonds matched the chain. Philip put the ring on Edward’s finger.
‘A token of our friendship,’ said Philip. ‘You are my son now.’
Edward was astounded at the magnificence of the gift and he immediately wondered what Perrot would think of them. Perrot loved rubies almost as much as he loved diamonds!
Phillip was in a generous mood, which was unusual with him, and added a special significance to the gifts. There were more of these to come for he had acquired so much booty from the Templars that he could well afford to part with some of it. He produced a belt and two fine brooches all set with glittering jewels and some bales of linen and velvet.
It was a token of friendship and the knowledgeable agreed that Phillip’s generosity meant that he intended to rule England through his son-in-law.
* * *
‘My father loves you,’ said Isabella.
They lay on their bed together, his arm about her, her lovely hair loose about her shoulders. Now and then she paused in her conversation to kiss him lightly on the lips or brow. He smiled benignly at these caresses. She was a beautiful and passionate girl and it had not been as difficult as he had thought it might be to do his duty by her.
‘How shall I like England?’ she asked.
‘You will love it.’
‘Because it is beautiful or because you will be there?’
‘For both reasons,’ said Edward.
‘Will the people love me?’
‘How could they help it?’
‘The French can be difficult. They are quickly angered. There are riots now and then and people speak against the royal family.’
‘This happens now and then. But when the people see you, they will love you.’
‘Do they love you?’
‘So far, yes.’
‘You think they will change?’
‘They are fickle. They will tell you my father was the greatest of kings now that he is dead, but they did not always so while he lived.’
‘But they love you in spite of the fact that you are alive.’
‘I am a new King and they have not yet learned to hate me. At this stage they blame others for my shortcomings. Perrot― for instance. They blame him.’
‘Perrot?’
‘Oh― he is just one of the knights. The Earl of Cornwall, in truth.’
‘Why do they blame him?’
‘They must blame someone. Now let me tell you what I have done for you.
We shall go to Westminster Palace. You will see what I have ordered to be done and it is all to please you. I have had the gardens returfed and trellises built and flowers planted just for you. And I have had a new pier built which shall be called the Queen’s Bridge.’
‘All for me.’
‘Yes, for you. You will find I am ready to do a great deal for you.’
She kissed him again and again― light butterfly kisses first.
His arms tightened about her.
Oh, yes, it was certainly a great deal easier than he had believed possible. He wondered if Perrot had found it equally so with his bride.
* * *
The Dowager Queen of England came into her niece’s chamber and, as she indicated that she wished to speak to her alone, Isabella’s attendants disappeared.
‘It is nothing much,’ said Queen Marguerite. ‘I merely thought that as what is happening to you is so like what happened to me‚ we might have a little chat.’
‘My dearest aunt, you were very happy in England were you not?’
‘I was completely happy. Your husband’s father was good to me. I was afraid when I left France. You are not afraid, Isabella?’
Isabella shook her head.
‘That is well, dear niece. You are young and beautiful and strong-willed. I was young but that is where the comparison ends.’
‘Oh, but Aunt Marguerite, you were always very pretty and still are.’
‘There are some in our family who have outstanding beauty. You are one.
Your father was another and so was my sister Blanche. Edward had heard of her charms and wanted to marry her. Then your father changed his mind and I was sent in Blanche’s place. It was not a good beginning. But Edward never showed his disappointment. He said afterwards how glad he was that I came instead of Blanche. It was a very happy marriage. But then Edward was a good hu
sband― a loved his family dearly. I wonder if―’
‘If my Edward will be the same. Dear lady, do not worry. I shall be.’
‘Yes, you will see to that. Of course Kings have such power and so many seek to please them. Often they are tempted―’
‘Tempted?’
‘To― take lovers.’
Isabella laughed. ‘There shall be none of that. Why, my lady, Edward is a meek man. He is a man who would not seek trouble. Never fear, I shall know how to deal with him.’
‘Of course you will, my dear.’
‘You are looking uneasy. Tell me, is there some scandal in Edward’s life of which I have not heard? I shall ask him. I shall demand a full confession.’
‘Oh no, no― You must not do that. All will be well. I was just over anxious― nothing more. Pray forget what I said.’
Dear Aunt Marguerite! She was rather a simpleton, but she had the kindest heart in the world. She was merely trying to warn her young niece of the ways of men.
Isabella kissed her warmly.
‘There is one thing you must know,’ she said. ‘I am able to take care of myself― and Edward.’
The Dowager Queen nodded eagerly. Of course it would be all right, she assured herself. Now that he had a young wife, this regrettable liaison with Piers Gaveston would cease.
* * *
It was time to leave for England. The young bride said farewell to her parents who had solemnly placed her in the care of her two uncles, Charles de Valois and Louis d’Evreux.
‘If you need advice on any matter, my child,’ said her father, ‘go to your uncles. They will tell you how to act.’
She promised that she would do this and Phillip seemed satisfied.
The journey across the Channel in spite of the bleakness of the February day was a calm one. Isabella stood on deck beside her new husband and watched with some emotion the approaching white cliffs. She glimpsed the castle high on the hill, that almost impregnable fortress which she had heard called the key to England.
Her eyes shining with happiness she grasped Edward and told him that she knew that the happiest time of her life lay ahead of her.
He kissed her hand and murmured that it was going to be his joy to make her so. She did not know how lightly he spoke and that the excitement in his eyes was not there because he was bringing home his bride but because soon he would see Gaveston.
There were crowds waiting to greet them. Isabella could see the banners as they came in; she heard the shouts of the people. This was indeed a royal welcome.
Edward took her hand as they went ashore. She heard someone say, ‘she is indeed a beauty.’ Then the crowds took up the cry: ‘Long live Isabella the Fair.
God bless our Queen.’
She felt intoxicated with joy. She was a Queen; she had a handsome husband whom she could love; her new people admired her and welcomed her warmly to her new land. It was everything she had imagined.
This was happiness.
There was a sudden silence in the crowd. A man had stepped forward. He was clearly of great importance for he was surrounded by extravagantly clad men who were in attendance. He was like a king himself— even more magnificent.
He must be an Emperor, she thought, or some ruler of even greater rank than the King himself.
His cotehardie glittered with jewels and the purple velvet cloak, surely a royal colour— was trimmed with miniver. He was dark-eyed, very handsome, lithe and graceful.
‘My lord,’ he cried and then he and the King were embracing as though their reunion was the sweetest thing in the world Edward was murmuring, ‘Brother― my brother― It has seemed so long.’
‘Forsooth Edward, you are back now. God’s ears, I thought the time would never come. It has seemed an age.’
‘Perrot, how has it been? What of the lords―?’
‘Fiddler has been fiddling, and the Mad Hound foaming. What did you expect, dear lord?’
‘Oh, it is so good to be back.’
Isabella said: ‘My lord, I pray you present your friend to me.’
‘My dear Isabella, of course― of course― This is the Earl of Cornwall, my brother.’
‘I did not know of this brother. I thought your brothers were but children.’
Edward laid his hand caressingly on Gaveston’s arm.
‘This is my beloved brother. We were together in the nursery, and there he became my best-loved brother. He has remained so since. You will love him, Isabella. He is the most amusing, interesting, charming, delightful of all our lords.’
She thought she detected an air of insolence in the manner in which Gaveston regarded her. She thought: The Earl of Cornwall, indeed! I shall soon put this fellow in his place. What possesses Edward to make so much of him?
She inclined her head slightly. She was then aware of a certain tension which had fallen on the watchers.
‘Let us go into the castle,’ said Edward.
They walked up the steep incline, the crowds parted to let them through. The shouting for the King and Queen persisted, but the Queen detected that there was a certain difference in these and those which had at first greeted her.
It was irritating that the Earl of Cornwall should walk beside them as they made their way into the castle.
* * *
There was a banquet to celebrate their arrival and as her women prepared her for it and kept exclaiming at her beauty, reminding her how the people who had gathered to see her and the King had been completely charmed by it, her spirits rose.
She had allowed herself to be irritated by that arrogant man who really had been ridiculously overdressed and tried to take up the King’s attention. That was something she would not endure. She would speak to Edward about him at the first opportunity.
She asked her women: ‘Why does the Earl of Cornwall give himself such airs?’
There was a brief silence and she went on sharply: ‘Answer me. Are you all struck dumb?’
‘My lady, he is a great friend of the King.’
‘A great friend indeed! Methinks he had the appearance of an eastern ruler.
He was more richly dressed than the King or I were, and his jewels― if they are real, they must be worth a fortune.’
‘The Earl is a rich man, my lady. Since the King bestowed such titles on him, they say he is the richest man in the kingdom. He is connected with the royal house too, for his wife is the King’s niece.’
The young Queen seemed slightly mollified. She thought she understood.
He had recently married Edward’s niece and because of this had titles bestowed on him. His newly acquired honors had gone to his head. This was often so. But he would have to be taught to mend his manners.
The women, having started to gossip seemed to find it difficult to stop.
‘He was Regent during the King’s absence. Some of the barons were not very pleased.’
‘Regent! That popinjay!’
‘The King thinks him very clever. The King is his great friend.’
Isabella could not quite understand the meaning of one woman’s expression.
She was on the point of demanding an explanation but thought better of it. She would speak to Edward.
What a fanfare of trumpets burst forth as she and Edward entered the hall!
There had been no time to speak to him as yet for he had only arrived in time to conduct her to the banquet.
She heart the exclamation of amazement and she knew it was because of her beauty. She saw her uncles exchange gratified glances. Edward pressed her hand.
All was well.
She sat beside the King and to her dismay on the other side of him was the Earl of Cornwall. He had changed his elaborate garments for even more splendid ones. Indeed, who did he think he was? The King? Oh yes, she would certainly speak to Edward.
The Earl of Lancaster was beside her. He was the most important of the barons because he was the son of Edward the First’s brother Edmund and therefore her husband’s cousin.
She found him excessively dull and it was irritating that Edward should have bestowed so much attention on his neighbor. They were laughing together and clearly had a great deal to say to each other. Of course he had held an important post in Edward’s absence. Perhaps that explained it.
After the meal, there was music and she played her lute to them for she wanted them to realize how accomplished their Queen was. She knew that she looked very beautiful with her hair falling over her shoulders. She had refused to have it confined with a wimple or any such headdress. It was really very beautiful hair and should be displayed to her new subjects, she believed. So she sat with her lute and sang the songs she had learned at her father’s court and afterwards she and Edward led the dance.
She whispered to him: ‘You talk a great deal to the Earl of Cornwall.’
‘Oh, Perrot! He has always been a close friend.’
‘Some were not very pleased.’
‘Some will always be displeased no matter what one does.’
‘ I was one of those who felt displeasure.’
‘You, Isabella? Oh you will soon be used to Perrot. I want you to appreciate him. I am most anxious for you two to be friends.’
‘I like not his arrogant manner and his style of dressing to outdo us all.’
‘Oh― that is just Perrot. You will understand.’
It was difficult to talk seriously while dancing so she did not tell him that she had taken an instant dislike to his Perrot and she thought it very unlikely that she would become his friend.
Edward was with her for the rest of the evening and she was longing for that time when they should be alone together. Dear Edward, he was so handsome and he hated conflict. He would be ready to do exactly as she told him. It was a very pleasant prospect. One of her first tasks would be to put a stop to the friendship between him and the Earl of Cornwall. She would do it gradually so that Edward would not realize it was happening.
Now she longed for him to come. She had scented her hair with special perfumes which she had brought from France. She would lavish her caresses on him; she would make him weak with love for her and after that when they lay languorous together she would hint to him that she wanted Gaveston to be less prominent at Court.