Her father, Duke Stefan of Bavaria, had resumed his visits to the French court. He expressed interest in the widow of the Sire de Coucy, who had fallen before Nicopolis. Their daughter was heiress to the barony of Coucy, an extensive and important territory located in Picardy on the borders of Flanders, Hainault and Brabant. It was anticipated that the young damsel would in time cede her proprietary rights in this land to her powerful stepfather of Bavaria. Not only would the domain of Coucy be a brilliant addition to the block of lands belonging to the House of Bavaria, but it was strategically important as a gateway to France. Burgundy, naturally, supported the marriage proposal; as did Isabeau, as did Berry, who occupied himself at Bicetre collecting exotic beasts. Only Bourbon hesitated; he was not convinced of the wisdom of the marriage. Orléans did not appear at the meetings held to discuss the marriage agreement; he surprised Isabeau and his fellow Regents by buying the barony of Coucy from the heiress. The King ratified by his signature the contract in which the daughter of the Sire de Coucy declared “that in the interest of the Kingdom, she could do no better than to transfer the domain of Coucy to Monseigneur the Duke of Orléans”. For the first time Louis tasted triumph; he had overtrumped Burgundy and the Bavarian princes. Their rage and disappointment made it obvious to him at the same time when he must make his next move.
In the midst of Bavarian lands lay the Duchy of Luxembourg; it belonged to the Margrave of Moravia, a kinsman and ally of Wenceslaus. This territory, a wedge between Flanders, Hainault and Brabant, on the one hand, and the states subject to Ruprecht of Bavaria on the other, was strategically crucial. The Margrave of Moravia, who wished at any cost to safeguard his property from the hated Bavarians, suggested that Orléans place Luxembourg under his protection.
The realization that his star was rising stimulated Louis to increase his political activity. While the Queen was absent, he managed to send his friend, Marshal Boucicaut, to Genoa as governor. Bou-cicaut, who understood and agreed with Louis in everything, performed his duties in an exemplary manner from the first day onward. He managed to maintain order on the other side of the Alps without endangering the peace with neighbor and ally.
Once more Isabeau and Burgundy had bitter reason to bemoan the actions of the King’s brother. Each of them attempted, in his own fashion, to outwit him; the Queen, enraged because war against Gian Galeazzo was out of the question while Boucicaut was governor of Genoa, entered heart and soul into the intrigues of Emperor Ruprecht; Burgundy, meanwhile, struck elsewhere. Through artful political maneuvering, he brought the Duchy of Brittany within his sphere of influence.
Louis was in a grim mood, chiefly because of Burgundy’s successful countermove. The King, more gravely ill than ever, was unapproachable; he seemed, in fact, scarcely human. Almost every day Isabeau received envoys from Germany; Louis was aware of this, although the Queen attempted to behave as though nothing unusual were happening. The Dukes of Berry and Bourbon remained aloof, wishing to see which way the cat would jump. In the Council all was confusion and discontent; it was impossible to steer a steady course with so many conflicting opinions. Louis d’Orléans craved an oudet for his feelings of hatred for Lancaster and Burgundy; he challenged his former brother-in-arms to a duel. It occurred to him to do this after he had seen his niece, the little Isabelle, move pale and mournful through the halls of Saint-Pol, still accorded the dignity and respect of a queen. She had carried back from England an attitude of injured majesty which seemed almost ludicrous in so young a child, but the grief in her bright round eyes was real. She had loved King Richard deeply; he had always been kind to her.
“And he loved me too,” said the child, sobbing. “He lifted me in the air when he took leave of me before he went to Ireland, and he must have kissed me forty times.” When Madame Isabelle said this, her tears would not stop flowing.
Louis felt deep compassion for the unthroned Queen, the child who had become a widow before she became a woman. It would be extremely difficult to arrange so brilliant a marriage for her again. Before long she would, perhaps, be forced to set aside the high rank which she now bore so self-consciously. She sat surrounded by princesses and duchesses, arrayed in the state robes of her dowry, in furnished apartments set aside for Her Majesty, the Dowager-Queen of England. But all the ceremony, all the homage and pomp, could bring no color to her small, stiff face. Upset and angry, Louis felt it was his duty to do what the French court apparently considered unnecessary; he flung himself forward as his niece’s champion and challenged Lancaster to single combat.
The Englishman replied dryly that he found the proposal ridiculous; he had no inclination to fight with one who was his inferior in rank.
In fact, things were not going smoothly for England’s new monarch; he discovered all too quickly that one cannot learn to rule in a few days. With Burgundy’s help he managed to achieve an extension of the peace treaty with France. He was so distracted by internal affairs that he had no time even to think about attacking French soil. Louis, believing that France should not be cheated of the chance to strike at England while it was weakened by dissension, played his trump card against Burgundy. In the summer of 1402 he set out with a great entourage for Coucy, which was favorably located near the border, and entered into negotiations with representatives of the Margrave of Moravia for the purchase of Luxembourg. The agreement was reached without difficulty. For the sum of 100,000 ducats Moravia sold the Duchy to Orléans. Louis went almost immediately to his new domain where he approached the lords of the region and bound them to him in the traditional way with gifts and grants. Thus a dangerous rift was opened in the Bavarian sphere of influence by Louis d’Orléans; in case of war he could rely now on an army of vassals and their followers. Both Orléans and Burgundy had adopted highly provocative stances; neither could move now without mortally wounding his adversary or being mortally wounded himself.
One afternoon in May, 1403, Isabeau, on returning from a stroll in the gardens of Saint-Pol, accompanied by her entourage, heard with surprise that the Duke of Orléans had requested an audience with her; he had been waiting for a considerable time in the anteroom. Relations between the Queen and her brother-in-law had grown extremely chilly over the past few years; they spoke to each other only on state occasions and maintained the illusion of mutual courtesy only for the sake of appearances. Isabeau was involved with Burgundy’s policies; she was on the side of Burgundy and Bavaria, and she did not trust Orléans. During the past few months she had begun to show her disapproval by openly avoiding him.
Isabeau set out for her favorite room; it was a chamber hung with flowered tapestries next to the reception hall. She knew that the King had held audience that morning with Louis d’Orléans and a great number of clergy. Charles was somewhat better at the moment; for a short time he could once again busy himself with affairs of state.
While Isabeau awaited her brother-in-law’s arrival, she fanned herself impatiently with a handkerchief and sniffed repeatedly at a gold-filigree ball filled with sweet-smelling herbs. Presently the doors opened and the Duke of Orléans was announced. Louis entered the Queen’s room and bowed; although neither word nor gesture left anything to be desired, Isabeau detected under his courtly demeanor a cold self-assurance which made her very angry; it seemed to her that Louis must already have accomplished his purpose.