‘My love,’ cried Hugh, ‘what do you intend to do with these things? If you need them at Angoulême I can buy more …’
‘Out of my way,’ she cried. ‘I want nothing of one who so demeans himself and me.’
‘Tell me,’ wailed Hugh. ‘Tell me what you wish.’
‘I wish this,’ she shouted, ‘that I had never come here to be insulted thus.’
She leaped on to her horse and casting a disgusted look at the goods which had been thrown out, she galloped off.
Hugh was bewildered. Two of his sons, Hugh and Guy, came to join him.
‘She will have gone back to Angoulême,’ said young Hugh.
‘I do not understand …’ began his father.
‘She was in a fine fury when she knew what had happened. She said she would go back to Angoulême.’
Hugh sighed and ordered the servants to carry the furnishings back into the castle and set them up in their old places.
Then he went sorrowfully into the castle.
He tried to explain to his sons. ‘There was nothing else I could do. I was duty bound to pay homage to the Count of Poitiers. Honour demands it of me.’
His sons agreed with him.
But that was small comfort. The quiet of the castle was unendurable to them all.
‘I must bring her back to us,’ said Hugh.
So he set out for the castle of Angoulême.
The castle was barred against him.
‘My lord,’ said the man at arms, ‘my lady has given orders that none shall be let in … and especially you, my lord.’
Some men might have forced their way in and subdued her. Not Hugh. He was overcome with sorrow. He heartily wished that he had refused to pay homage to Alphonse. It would have been an act of war, but anything was better than that Isabella should leave him.
He asked one of her servants to tell Isabella that her husband was at the gates humbly begging to see her.
The answer came back: ‘My lady will not receive you, my lord.’
Miserably he waited outside the castle until night fell and then he had no recourse but to take a lodging in the Knights Templars’ Hostel which was close by.
The next day he was back at the castle. More messages were sent in and more refusals brought out.
It was three days before she consented to see him.
She stood in the hall, her beautiful hair unbound; her gown of soft blue velvet open at the throat to show her magnificent bosom across which her white hands were folded almost symbolically as though she were withholding herself from him.
‘Well, my lord,’ she cried.
‘My dearest wife …’
‘Nay,’ she interrupted. ‘Not your dearest wife. You cannot count me so. I am not dear to you. Have you not allowed me to be humiliated … insulted …’
‘Nay, ’tis not so. I would never allow that.’
‘But you have. You have bowed the knee to my enemies.’
‘I will do everything you ask of me. Only listen, Isabella. Come back to me …’
She looked at him from under the thick dark lashes. ‘Well, she said, ‘you will listen to reason then? And let me tell you this, Hugh: if you do not do as I wish I shall never lie beside you again. I will not suffer you in my sight.’
‘Do not say such things. You are my wife. You know my feelings for you.’
‘At this time I know that you have betrayed me. You will have to show me that you have some concern for me.’
‘You are my concern … you are my life …’
She laid her hand on his arm, her expression softened.
‘So thought I,’ she said. ‘But that woman came … that Spanish woman. I wish she would come back to my castle. I would see that she never left it. I would deliver her such a draught which would send her writhing in agony … and this should be long lasting that she might not die easy.’
‘Isabella, have a care …’
She laughed loudly. ‘Poor frightened Hugh! I tell you this: you will have no need of fear if you listen to me. We are going to regain that which has been taken from us. We are going to have Spanish Blanche on her knees begging before us …’
‘Isabella, let us plan carefully … quietly …’
She looked at him with shining eyes.
‘So you will do as I wish, Hugh?’
‘I will do anything for you,’ he answered. ‘The only thing I cannot bear is that we should be apart.’
Gently she touched his cheek.
‘I knew you would come to me, Hugh. I knew you would help me to revenge.’
Together they rode back to Lusignan. The first plan was to gather together all those barons who were hostile to France.
They would invite them to the castle and lay their plans.
Isabella had an idea which she had decided she would not set before them. In time they would realise that she was more capable of bringing about the defeat of the French than any of them. This was her quarrel. This was obvious when the humiliating subservience of Hugh was considered. As she saw it – two women rode at the head of their forces – one was the Dowager Queen of France and the other of England. Blanche was her enemy. Blanche was the one she wished to see brought low. Blanche who had hated her but not as much as she hated Blanche. Blanche who had contrived to make Hugh bend the knee to her son – and not even her first-born – by bestowing the Poitiers title on him and thus setting him above the Count and Countess of La Marche.
This was going to be a full-scale war. No skirmishing between barons. And she knew how to make it so.
This was her secret.
Why should she not write to her son? He would be eager to come to the help of his mother – particularly when in doing so he could fulfil a lifelong ambition.
The barons of the south would rise against the King and his mother – and meanwhile the English would land and march south.
Louis and his forces would be caught in a pincer movement. Defeat for France. Triumph for England, and the King of England would have his mother to thank. She would not let him forget it.
She would write to Henry in secret. She would tell him how many men she could raise. And when Hugh and his friends of the South realised the English were joining them, she would admit this happy state of affairs had been brought about by her ingenuity.
She sent messengers in secret to England.
The man from Rochelle was assiduous in his duties. Blanche was informed of the meetings of the Barons at Lusignan and the gist of the conversations which took place there.
A messenger arrived at the Castle of Lusignan.
The new Count of Poitiers was holding court at Poitiers and he commanded all his vassals to attend.
Hugh was shaken when he received the order, for he could only guess what Isabella’s reaction would be.
She laughed when she heard it.
‘What now?’ asked Hugh fearfully.
‘We are going to Poitiers,’ said Isabella.
On the journey there she told him what she planned they should do. It was useless for him to protest that it would be an act of war. She was adamant.
‘One thing I will never allow,’ she said, ‘and that is for you to bend a knee to this man.’
‘But he is my overlord … as I am overlord to so many …’
‘If you pay homage, then that is tantamount to my doing so,’ declared Isabella. ‘I shall never do it, Hugh. If you do, it is the end of everything between us. I shall go to Angoulême and you shall never be admitted to my castle.’