Текст книги "The Follies of the King"

Автор книги: Jean Plaidy

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

‘What good can she do?’ asked Edward.

‘Is the King of France with her?’ cried Hugh.

‘I know not. As soon as I realized that my suspicions were correct, I thought it my duty to make haste to you. I implied that I would not work with them and for that reason my life was in danger.’

‘It is monstrous!’ cried the King. ‘What can we do?’

‘We must recall the Queen and the Prince without delay,’ said Hugh.

‘Mortimer cannot stand without them.’

‘1 wonder how far it has gone,’ mused Edward.

‘My dear lord,’ replied Hugh, ‘it is nothing which we cannot handle. The

King of France will not send men to England. He might help with arms and

sympathy, but he will not be able to do anything against the army we shall raise.

But first let us not make it known that we are aware of their villainy. Let us get the Queen and the Prince back. When they are here it will be necessary to

restrict the Queen. I doubt the poison has seeped very far into the Prince’s mind.

We must be thankful to my lord Bishop for his loyalty.’

‘My dear Bishop,’ said the King, ‘it shall not be forgotten.’

‘I seek not rewards for my loyalty, my lord,’ said the Bishop with dignity.

‘I know it well,’ replied Edward warmly. ‘I thank God that I have many

good friends in my realm on whom I can depend and who will serve me no

matter who comes against me.’

On the advice of both Hugh and the Bishop the King that day wrote to the

King of France telling him that now that the matter of homage was settled he would be glad of the return of his Queen and son.

The King of France sent for his sister and when she came, he embraced her

coolly and said: ‘It is time you went back to England.’

Isabella looked as distressed as she felt.

‘It grieves me to think of returning,’ she said. ‘It has been so wonderful for me to be here in my native country. Life is so different here. If you but knew, brother, what I have had to endure.’

Charles tapped the letter in his hand. ‘Edward reminds me that it is time you returned. You should make your preparations.’

She hesitated. She wanted to tell him of their plans. How so much was going in their favour yet how they needed time.

‘If you do not go,’ went on the King, ‘Edward will think I hold you against your will.’

‘Does he say that?’

‘No. He implies that the reluctance is on your part.’

‘How right he is! Oh Charles, you do not know how I have suffered through

those Despensers.’

‘You have mentioned it now and then sister,’ replied Charles with increasing coolness.

Oh God help me, thought Isabella. He is going to send me back.

‘You want me to leave do you?’ she asked bluntly.

‘My dear sister, you have been long here. Your business is settled. It is

natural that you should return to your husband.’

‘You mock me. My husband! You know what he is.’

‘You and your son should return to your home.’

‘He asks that you send us, does he? In what terms?’

‘He asks why there is the delay in your returning and mentions that you have been away long enough.’

‘Charles, I am afraid.’

‘You Isabella― afraid! I know you are many things but I am surprised to

find you afraid.’

‘They will kill me if I go back,’ she said quietly.

‘Kill you? My sister. They would have to answer to me if they did. I do not think they would wish that.’

‘Charles, it would not seem like murder. But it would be. The Despensers

hate me. You know what it was like before I came. I was almost their prisoner.

That is what they wish. Oh, they will not cut off my head. Nor will they give me a dose of poison which immediately removes me― but they will kill me

nevertheless. They will imprison me and slowly they will take my life away from me.’

‘Isabella, you over-excite yourself.’

‘Would you not be over-excited brother if you were faced with murderers?

Let me stay here, only a little longer I promise you. I will make plans― but I cannot go back to Edward and the Despensers yet.’

She had fallen to her knees and raised her eyes supplicatingly to his. She was very beautiful and she was his sister and they were the only two left of their father’s children. Charles himself felt none too secure with the Templars curse hanging over him.

He raised her and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

‘Do not be so dramatic, Isabella. Certainly, you may stay a little longer. I will write something to Edward. But you must not get up to mischief. Do you understand?’

‘Mischief?’

‘There are rumours. I have heard that you are over-friendly with Roger de

Mortimer.’

‘What calumnies! Of course I am friendly with the English here in France.’

‘You have gathered a good many about you.’

‘Indeed why should they not speak with me? They are unhappy about the

King even as I am.’

‘I would not wish my court to be the plotting ground.’

‘Dear Charles! You are going to be my good brother. I promise you that I

shall make my plans for departure and as soon as I can bring myself to do so I shall leave.’

‘And when you go take your malcontents with you.’

‘And you will write to Edward.’

‘And tell him that your departure has been temporarily postponed but that

within a few weeks you will be making your plans to leave.’

–――――――

The King of France was frowning over a letter he had received from the

King of England. A few weeks had passed since he had told Isabella she might remain a little longer, but so far she had said nothing about her departure.

Very dear and beloved brother, wrote Edward,

‘We have received and well considered your letters― It seems

that you have been told, dearest brother, by persons whom you consider worthy of credit that our companion, the Queen of England, dare not return to us, being in peril of her life, as she

apprehends from Hugh le Despenser. Certes, dearest brother, it cannot be that she can have fear of him, or any other man in our

realm. If either Hugh or any other living being in our dominions

would wish to do her ill, and it came to our knowledge, we would

chastise him in a manner which would be an example to all others―

We also entreat you, dearly beloved brother, that you would be

pleased to deliver up to us Edward our beloved eldest son, your

nephew― We pray you to suffer him to come to us with all speed for

we have often sent for him and we greatly wish to see him and speak

with him, and every day we long for his return―

Charles’s brow was wrinkled. The letter was genuine enough and although

he despised Edward as an incompetent ruler, he could not believe he was

capable of plotting the murder of his wife. Whereas he could believe of his sister that she was concerned in some mischief.

And whatever it was, he wanted no part in it. He felt weak in health, lacking in vitality; he doubted he would ever get a son and heir. The curse of the Templars sat heavily upon him and he was not going to look for trouble outside his realm.

Isabella would have to take her problems elsewhere.

By the same messenger there were letters for Isabella and young Edward.

Isabella, with Mortimer beside her, read hers aloud.

‘Lady, Oftentimes have we sent to you, both before and after the

homage, of our great desire to have you with us, and of our grief at

heart at your long absence; and as we understand that you do us

great mischief by this, we will that you come to us with all speed and without further excuses.

Before the homage was performed you made the advancement of

that business an excuse and now that we have sent by the honourable

father, the Bishop of Winchester, our safe conduct to you “you will

not come for fear and doubt of Hugh le Despenser” whereat we

cannot marvel too much―

And, Certes, lady, we know for truth, and so know you, that he

has always procured from us all the he could for you, nor to you have

either evil or villainy been done since you entered into our

comradeship― and we are much displeased, now the homage has

been made to our dearest brother, the King of France, and we have

much fair prospect of amity, that you, whom we have sent to make the

peace, should be the cause (which God forfend) of increasing the

breach between us by things which are feigned and contrary to the

truth. Wherefore we charge you as urgently as we can, that ceasing

from all pretences, delays and false excuses, you will come to us with all the haste you can. Our Bishop has reported to us that our brother, the King of France has told you in his presence “that, by the tenor of your safe conduct, you would not be delayed or molested in coming

to us as a wife should to her lord”― Also we require of you that our

dear son Edward return to us with all possible speed for we much

desire to see him and speak with him―

Isabella finished reading and looked in dismay at Mortimer, who said: ‘It is clear that he is becoming anxious.’

‘He will have written to my brother,’ replied Isabella. ‘My dear love, soon it will be impossible for us to remain in France.’

‘And it is equally impossible for you to return to England. We must gather together an army. We must be certain of a good reception when we do return to England. If only we had a few more months.’

‘My brother cannot force me to go.’

‘I fear he can. And he doubtless will if Edward continues to demand your

return.’

‘There must be a way,’ cried Isabella. ‘We have come so far we cannot

throw everything away now. Moreover in spite of Edward’s protestations, I

would not give much for my chances with the Despensers if I returned to

England.’

‘Let us not show panic. Let us see what is the effect of the letters Edward will have sent to your brother.’

‘There is something else,’ cried Isabella. ‘He will have written to my son.’

There was silence. ‘I must go to Edward and see what his father has written.

The boy is asking direct questions.’

‘He will not wish to leave you,’ Mortimer assured her. ‘You have cast a

spell over him as you have over us all.’

‘It is true that he loves me well, but he is clever. He thinks often of when he will be King.’

‘There is no harm in that. The sooner he is, the better.’

‘Still, Stapledon instilled some filial feeling in him. A curse on that man!

These letters are the direct result of his escape and reporting to the King.’

‘It is done. Let us go on from where we now stand.’

‘You are right, my love. I will go at once to young Edward.’

The young Prince was at that moment reading the letter from his father.

Very dear son,

As you are young and of tender age, we remind you of that which

we charged and commanded you at your departure from Dover and

you answered then, as we know with good will “that you will not

trespass or disobey any of our injunctions in any point for any one.”

And since that your homage has been received by our dearest brother, the King of France, your uncle, be pleased to take your

leave of him and return to us with all speed in company with your

mother, if so be that she will come quickly and if she will not come,

then come you without further delay, for we have great desire to see

you and to speak with you; therefore stay not for your mother, not for anyone else on our blessing―

Of course they must return to England, thought Edward. He wondered why

his mother waived the matter every time he suggested it. It had been pleasant at the Court of France but he was looking forward to returning home. He would speak to his mother at the earliest possible moment.

He did not have to wait long. As he was putting the letter into a drawer his mother came into the room.

‘Oh Edward, dear son,’ she cried embracing him, ‘did you enjoy the hunt? I hear you brought in a fine buck.’

‘I don’t think I ever saw a finer,’ replied Edward enthusiastically. ‘My lady, I have heard from my father.’

‘So have I.’

She waited and Edward said: ‘He is impatient for my return. He wants us to leave as soon as we possibly can.’

She went to him and slipped her arm through his.

‘Edward, my dearest,’ she said, ‘I have begun to rely on you. I look upon

you as my protector. You wouldn’t allow any harm to come to me, would you?’

Edward flushed. ‘I would protect you with my life.’

‘Oh my darling child, what should I have done without you? Mine has not

been a happy life you know. Your father and I―’

Edward frowned. He hated to be disloyal to his father. Walter Stapledon had impressed on him that the King was supreme and must always be obeyed. But at the same time he had been taught to protect the weak; and he had sensed that of late he had become very important to his mother and he knew that she spoke the truth when she said she relied on him to be beside her. When he came into a room her eyes sought his at once. An understanding always passed between

them. She was saying to him, he fancied, that she felt safe now he was there.

And he replied to her that he would always be at her side if she needed him.

‘This is not easy for me to say, dear Edward. May I proceed?’

‘You must do as you wish, my lady.’

‘You will understand I hope and not think badly of me.’

‘I could never think badly of my beloved mother,’ answered the boy.

‘Then I will speak― but with reluctance. You know there is much

discontent in our country.’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Your grandfather, whom you so strongly resemble, knew how to keep the

barons in order. England needs a strong King, Edward. You are going to be a strong King. I have heard it said that it is a pity you are not older and that the crown is on your head.’

‘But my father has many years before him yet.’

‘Dear love, it is your father of whom I must speak. That is why I hedge and prevaricate because I cannot bring myself to say it.’

The boy was suddenly firm, giving a hint of what he would be when he

came to the throne. ‘You must tell me. It is not fitting that I of all people should be kept in ignorance.’

‘So thought I as I wrestled with my conscience. You shall know. Your father is not like your grandfather. Your grandfather was a good and faithful husband.’

‘My father is unfaithful to you!’

She nodded. ‘Not with women. Dear Edward, you must have heard of

Gaveston. He was the love of your father’s life while he lived. Those who cared for this country’s well-being took him out to a hill and cut off his head. Then he was replaced by Hugh le Despenser. You are old enough to know what

humiliation I suffered.’

‘Oh, my dear mother!’

‘I knew your sympathy would be for me. For years I endured this

humiliation. I even forced myself to bear children because I thought it was my duty to provide heirs for the country. Now my life is in danger. If I go back to England, the Despensers will kill me.’

‘They would never dare!’

‘They would do it subtly, as I have tried to explain to my brother. Edward, if we return to England now, in a few months time you will have lost your

mother.’

He turned to her and put his arms about her. She embraced him fiercely.

‘You will not let that happen to me, my son.’

‘I would kill any who attempted to harm you.’

‘So thought I. Cursed was I in my husband but blessed am I in my son.

Edward, I have good friends here. You know how they rally round me. Good

men all. They knew what was happening in the court. They understand the

power of the evil Despensers. I must stay here for as long as I can. Will you bear with me? Will you turn from your father’s pleas?’

‘I swore to obey him.’

‘Yes, dearest son, but it will not be your father whom you are obeying, it will be the evil Despensers. He is in their power. They have woven a spell over him. Trust me, dear son. Trust me― just for a little while and then I will prove to you the truth of all I have told you.’

She leaned against him and wiped her eyes. Edward was overcome with

emotion. That his clever, beautiful mother should be so treated was

unendurable!

‘You will stand with me, dear Edward,’ she pleaded.

‘Dear Mother,’ answered the boy, ‘I will defend you against all who come

against you.’

‘All?’ she asked.

‘All,’ he replied fervently.

‘You have made me so happy,’ she told him, and when she had taken her

leave of him went straight to Mortimer.

‘Edward will be with us,’ she said. ‘He will never stand against me.’

‘That is good work,’ said Mortimer. ‘Now let us be patient while we look to the future. We must find some means of raising an army. My spies from

England tell me that the country grows more and more angry against the

Despensers. If we could land with a reasonable force we should be welcomed.’

‘It will come,’ said Isabella firmly. ‘Meanwhile, as you say, patience.’

FOUR SISTERS OF HAINAULT

It was an uneasy situation, thought the King of France. He was gratified in a way that his brother of England was in an uncomfortable position, but from the first days of the marriage it had been clear that Edward preferred handsome young men to his beautiful wife. Isabella’s French relations had been quite angry about it at the time. They had known of the existence of Gaveston of course but had believed that once the King was married to a beautiful woman like Isabella, that side of his nature would be suppressed.

On the other hand Charles had no wish for his court to be used as the centre of rebellion. He wanted peace and such a situation could so easily erupt into war. Edward was writing more and more letters; they were coming every day.

He was quite dearly growing restive.

In the last one he had referred to Mortimer and there was a hint that Isabella and Mortimer were lovers.

We would wish you to remember, that we have at different times signified to you by letters, how improperly your sister, our wife, has conducted herself in withdrawing from us and refusing to return at our command, while she so notoriously has attached her company and consorts with our traitor and mortal enemy, the Mortimer―

That could mean one thing. Isabella and Mortimer were carrying on an

adulterous intrigue in his court.

Edward was growing more and more determined and, doubtless on the

advice of the Despensers, had informed the Pope of the most unsatisfactory state of affairs. The result of this was that the Pope had written to Charles– he would never have dared to write to Charles’s father so, but the monarchy had grown debilitated since Jacques de Molai had been burned to death and uttered the Curse– declaring that excommunication would be considered if he kept his

sister at his court where it was rumoured she was living in adultery with Roger de Mortimer.

This frightened Charles. Excommunication allied to the curse would be the

end of him.

He would write to Isabella. He knew her wiles too well to try to convey

what he must do verbally.

Accordingly Isabella received a note from her brother in which he

commanded her to leave his kingdom without delay or he would be forced to

make her go.

She was filled with rage when she read her brother’s command. That he

should behave so to her and not even see her, shocked her deeply.

‘I do not believe he will force me out,’ she said to Mortimer. ‘He would

never have the courage. He is getting weaker every day. I have a feeling my brother will not last very long.’

‘The Pope is threatening him with excommunication.’

‘Let him threaten. We will delay a while yet.’

During the following evening Isabella received a visitor. It was her cousin Robert d’Artois. He came in great haste and wished to speak to her urgently and privately.

No sooner were they alone than he said: ‘I come to warn you, fair lady.

There is a plot to take you and the young Prince prisoner and to send you back to England without delay.’

‘You mean my brother―’

Robert nodded. ‘I could not resist my desire to come and tell you, though it would cost me my life doubtless if the King knew I had done this. He has said that the only way to avoid trouble is to force you to leave. You are therefore to be put in restraint and sent back to England.’

‘When?’ she asked.

‘Tomorrow. You have little time.’

‘Oh Robert, how can I thank you for this?’

‘You know I would serve you with my life.’

She put her arms about him and for a moment he held her in a passionate

embrace.

‘Dearest cousin,’ he said, ‘you know full well what you mean to me, and

have for some time.’

‘You have always shown yourself a friend―’

‘A friend― a mild way of describing my feelings! I know Mortimer has

your heart and you his. But my feelings for you are so deep, and so tender that I will say to you, Fly― Fly with him now. Tomorrow may be too late. Make for one of the independent states. There you may well find refuge until you can gather together the army you need.’

‘Oh, my cousin, how can I thank you?’

‘It is I who thank you for allowing me to serve you.’

Such devotion was stimulating.

She went at once to Mortimer. They must not hesitate, she said.

They would go during the night, replied Mortimer. She, he and young

Edward, with as many of their friends as they could muster. The rest could follow.

That night they crept quietly to the stables and fled from the Court of

France, making their way towards the province of Hainault.

They had not ridden far from Paris when they were joined by the rest of their company who had been warned of her flight and had come to join her. All

agreed that it would be safest for them to get as quickly out of France as possible and it was with great relief that they crossed the border into Hainault.

Weary with the day’s riding and feeling now that they could afford to rest awhile, they came to the town of Ostrevant and stopped at a house which proved to belong to a knight named Sir Eustace d’Ambreticourt. When he realized that the lady was the Queen of England he was overcome with the honour of meeting her and he and his family insisted that she rest in their house with the few of her followers whom they could accommodate and lodging should be bund for the

rest within the town.

Isabella was delighted with such hospitality. How different, she said to

Mortimer, from the way in which we were treated in France!

‘Ah, my love,’ laughed Mortimer, ‘we were well received by your brother

until we stayed too long. But I agree the welcome of this simple knight warms my heart.’

Sir Eustace said that he must inform the Count of Hainault that he had such august visitors for he was sure that the Count would wish to greet the guests.

The Count’s response was to send his brother to meet the party and offer

them the hospitality of his castle. It was thus that Isabella first met Sir John Hainault.

Sir John was young, romantic, idealistic and eager to prove himself a

chivalrous knight, and here was a lady in distress. And what a beautiful one!

Isabella quickly summed up his nature and decided to appear feminine and

pathetic. She played her part well and he was overcome with the desire to serve her.

‘It is so good of you to come to me thus and offer such kindness,’ she told him. ‘I have been treated harshly of late where I would expect to have received love and understanding.’

‘My lady,’ cried Sir John, ‘rest assured that you will know nothing but

warmth and affection in this land.’

Isabella allowed the tears to show becomingly in her beautiful eyes. Sir John saw them and was most distressed.

‘Lady,’ he declared, ‘you see before you a knight who swears he will do

everything in his power to aid you. He will not hesitate to the in your service.

Though everyone else should forsake you I will be there.’

This was fulsome devotion on such a brief acquaintance but Isabella knew

that Sir John in his youthful exuberance meant what he said. It was gratifying and she felt better than she had since she had discovered her brother really meant to turn her out of his court.

Sir John went on: ‘Lady, you can rely on me. I will help you back to

England with your son when you wish to go. When I have stated your case to my brother, he will give you men and arms, I am sure. He will want to help you― even as I do. I will risk my life in adventure for your sake. I promise you, you will have no need to fear either the King of France or the King of England.’

The Queen rose from her chair and so overcome with delight was she that

she would have cast herself on her knees at the feet of Sir John, but with a horrified gesture he prevented her from doing so.

‘God forbid that you should kneel to me, Madam. Be of good cheer. My

promise to you stands firm. My brother will listen to you. He has expressed admiration for you many times. I will take you to him and present you to his Countess and their children.’

The Queen wiped her eyes. ‘You are kinder to me than I dreamed any could

be. You have shown me goodness of heart and courtesy. I promise you, this I shall never forget. My son and I will be eternally grateful to you and we shall ask you to help us govern England as it should be governed.’

They talked awhile and it was clear that the young man was completely

overwhelmed by the charm and beauty of the Queen and meant what he said

when he declared again and again that he would the in her cause.

He was eager to take her to his brother and she said a grateful farewell to Sir Eustace d’Ambreticourt, telling him that when she returned to England she

wanted him to come there and bring his family and she would see that they were entertained right royally.

She then rode out with Sir John who took her to the court of his brother

Count William of Holland and Hainault. There with his wife the Countess

Jeanne who was the daughter of Charles of Valois, a son of Philip III of France and therefore related to Isabella, he received the company very warmly and took great pleasure in presenting Isabella to his four young daughters, Margaret, Philippa, Joanna and Isabel. They were rosy-cheeked, merry, typically Flemish girls, homely, skilled in domestic arts and charmingly innocent.

When Isabella proudly presented Edward the girls dropped curtsies to him

and Isabella was immediately struck by the lack of formality in the family.

Edward was approaching fifteen years old– an outstandingly handsome boy,

already tall for his age, long-legged, fair-haired and blue-eyed.

The girls, the eldest of whom was about his own age and the youngest not so much younger for they had quickly followed each other in getting born, were clearly intrigued by such a handsome boy and Edward was amused by them and their efforts to please him.

The Countess was eager to show that they could entertain their guests at

Hainault as lavishly as they could in France which she remembered as a girl and a great many feasts, banquets and general entertainments were given.

Meanwhile Edward was left a great deal with the four girls. They rode

together, played games, introduced each other to the customs of their countries and it was an enjoyable time for them all. Edward felt he had been lifted out of the fearful doubts which beset him. He knew that his mother was working

against his father. He loved her dearly but he was uneasy; and to rest awhile in the rather simple but honest court of Hainault, where the Count and Countess were devoted to each other and their four merry daughters had no conception of family conflict, was for him a wonderful respite.

Of the four girls Edward selected Philippa as his favourite but he was too polite to show his preference. However when they rode out into the forest

together he did contrive to get Philippa to himself.

‘Let us lose the others,’ he said.

Philippa’s habitually rosy cheeks were a shade deeper. ‘Do you think we

can?’ she asked.

‘If you would wish it,’ answered Edward. ‘Would you?’

‘Oh yes,’ she cried, too honest to say anything but the truth.

‘Follow me,’ he told her.

He heard her high-pitched laugh as he spurred his horse. She obeyed and

very soon they had galloped away and had come to a clearing in the forest. He pulled up and they were silent for a moment, smiling at each other.

‘Are you glad we came here?’ asked Edward.

‘Oh yes. It was so dull before you did. Do you find it dull here, Edward?’

‘Not when I am with you.’

She blushed charmingly and smiled at him shyly. ‘Do you really mean that?

But you must, must you not, since you say it? You mean the others as well, I suppose. Margaret is much cleverer than I and Joanna and Isabel prettier.’

‘That is quite untrue,’ he answered.

She looked astonished and he realized that she had really meant it, and was finding it hard to accept the fact that he really preferred her to her sisters.

‘What strikes me most about you,’ he told her, ‘is your honesty. Do you

never say what you do not mean?’

‘What would be the point of that?’ she asked. ‘Speech is to express what we feel.’

‘I like you, Philippa,’ he said. ‘You are different from other people. I begin to fear that I live in a world of deceit.’

He was frowning. He could not tell innocent Philippa that he believed

Mortimer was his mother’s lover and that his father had treated her badly

because he would surround himself with favourites whom he loved better than he loved her.

‘What do you mean, Edward?’ asked Philippa, but he shook his head.

‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘It is too beautiful a morning to talk of such things.

Tell me about your childhood here. It was a happy one, I know. Your father and mother love you and each other dearly.’

‘But of course. We are all one family.’

He felt an impulse to lean forward and kiss her which he did.

She drew back blushing a little.

‘I like you so much,’ he explained.

‘I like you too, Edward.’

‘As a girl,’ he went on, ‘you will have to leave your home and marry one

day.’

Her brow clouded. ‘I know my parents think of it sometimes. I heard my

father say to my mother that she wanted to keep us all children forever.’

‘And do you want to stay a child forever?’

She was thoughtful. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not now. Besides it would be no use,

would it? I dare swear one day I shall have to go away. Margaret will go first because she is the eldest.’

‘Boys are more fortunate, especially heirs to crowns. They do not have to

leave their countries.’

‘No. You will stay in England and your bride will come to you. But she will have to leave her home of course. She will not mind that, though.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I know she won’t mind once she sees you.’

‘Philippa, would you mind?’

She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I should be glad.’

Then she feared she had said too much for his eyes had taken on a deeper

shade of blue and he was smiling.