‘It could mean trouble if you don’t.’
‘That’s why I thought it would be a good idea to let Isabella go and see what she can make of things. I am sure she is eager to impress us.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Hugh. ‘She has changed of late. She has become resigned.
There was a time when I thought there was a smouldering lioness inside her, waiting to strike. Now, she has changed.’
‘It was having the children. She dotes on young Edward you know.’
Hugh nodded. ‘Let her go then. I see no harm in it.’
‘She shall go,’ replied Edward.
When Isabella heard the news she could scarcely believe her good fortune.
She lost no time in setting out for France.
She could scarcely restrain her exultation as she made her rapid preparations. The scheming of years was coming to its climax. How clever she had been! How wise to act so discreetly through the years! Now she had her son, her little Edward― not so little, old enough to be crowned King, with hands to guide him― hers and Mortimer’s.
Oh gentle Mortimer, soon to be with him, to embrace him, to lie at his side, to make love, to make plans.
Nothing must go wrong now.
May was a beautiful month with the trees in bloom and the birds mad with joy— a manifestation of her own feelings. This was the springtime of her life— although she was twenty-nine years of age. It was a beginning, and twenty-nine was not old. A little mature perhaps but one needed maturity to plan carefully. She was inclined to think that everything was set fair.
Her company consisted only of Lord John Cromwell and four knights, apart from her personal attendants. The wind was with them and as she stepped onto French soil she could not restrain her expressions of joy. Lord John remarked that a love of one’s native land was something which never left one. And she allowed him to think that this was the reason for her exultation. If he but knew, her thoughts were in England― but not England as it was today ruled by an effete King and his minion.
She was happy. Soon she would be with Mortimer.
It was sooner than she had dared hope, for he had heard of her arrival and came in haste to greet her.
He bowed low. He must not show undue familiarity before the company, but in his eyes she saw all she wished to know.
‘My love,’ he whispered as he bowed before her. ‘So long it has seemed.’
‘At last I am here.’
Then he was saying that he had heard of her arrival and had come to escort her to her brother’s court in Paris.
Mortimer had arranged for them to stay the night at a château put at her disposal by her cousin Robert d’Artois who had heard a great deal of her humiliation at the hands of her husband and had been incensed that a daughter of the royal house of France should be so treated.
As they rode along Mortimer talked to her of his adventures since he had left England. He had found favour with her brother the King, which was perhaps not surprising for French Kings were always ready to favour the enemies of the Kings of England. He had told Charles a great deal about the influence Hugh le Despenser wielded over the King and naturally Charles, seeing clearly Edward’s folly, was not displeased about that.
‘I am happy to say,’ said Mortimer, ‘that the King your brother has shown nothing but friendship towards me.’ He bent his head and whispered.
‘Tonight― It must be tonight.’
And she answered, ‘Tonight.’
When they arrived at the château her cousin was eager to give her a royal welcome. He made it clear that he was very impressed by her beauty. She felt that she had come to life, recognized for what she had always known she was, a charming and desirable woman.
Lord John Cromwell was a little uneasy about what he called Mortimer’s undue familiarity. ‘He was, my lady, the King’s prisoner,’ he explained to Isabella. ‘Now he is an exile. If he were to return to England he would lose his head.’
‘True enough, my lord,’ answered Isabella and appeared to reflect. ‘But it seems to me that I am on a difficult mission. I have to get good terms for my husband from my brother and if Mortimer speaks truth he is on friendly terms with Charles. I shall need all the friends I can get. It would not be wise to alienate Mortimer.’
Lord John agreed with this. ‘But I would not trust him too far if I were you, my lady, if you will forgive my mentioning the matter.’
‘You are forgiven, Lord John. I know that you are faithful to me and to the King.’
‘The Mortimers were always a wild family, my lady. They ruled the Marcher land and it is in them to rule.’
‘I agree with you. Trust me, I shall be careful.’
How she laughed when that night she lay in Mortimer’s arms.
The reunion had been one of complete satisfaction. The fact that it had been planned with care gave it an added delight. They talked in whispers through the night for before dawn he must be gone. It would never do for any to guess at this point that she had come to France to join her lover.
‘I shall never go back without you,’ she told him.
‘When we go back it will be with an army. We shall succeed.’
‘Of course we shall succeed.’
‘Gentle Mortimer, it must be so. You and I together and Edward with us― my young Edward. We must find a way of getting him here.’
‘How does he feel about his father?’
‘Bewildered. He is but a boy. But a clever one― one who knows his destiny. He hears gossip of Hugh le Despenser. It disturbs him.’
‘Oh, my love― my love,’ cried Mortimer. ‘What a happy day when I was sent to the Tower!’
‘In the gardens that day I knew I had been waiting for you all my life.’
‘None ever loved as we do.’
‘And none ever planned such a great project as they lay in their bed of love.’
‘How long till dawn? I would I could hold back time.’
‘The future is for us, my love.’
‘Ah,’ he answered, ‘for us.’
‘The day will come,’ she said, ‘when you will not have to creep away before the first streaks of light appear in the sky.’
He wondered then if she meant she would marry him. Could the Queen of England marry a Mortimer? He had a wife. She had a husband. But such obstacles could be removed.
Ambition. Love. How glorious when these two walked together. To make love! To make plans! Life was good. Never had either of them dreamed of such bliss as life now offered them.
‘Would we could stay like this for ever,’ said Mortimer.
‘Nay, my dear love,’ answered the Queen. ‘This is but the springtime of our union. Glorious summer lies before us.’
‘And autumn and winter?’ he said.
‘Autumn will come with the fruits of our endeavours,’ she said. ‘And if there is winter we shall know how to keep each other warm. What talk for lovers; let us make talk when we cannot make love. Do you agree, dear Mortimer?’
Mortimer agreed.
ISABELLA
LETTERS FROM ENGLAND
THERE was a royal welcome for Isabella at her brother’s court.
Charles did not look in good health and as soon as she saw him she thought of the curse of the Templars. He possessed those outstanding good looks which came here and there in the family. Isabella herself had them, so had her father, and they had appeared again in Charles. Now there was an air of fragility about him.
He immediately gave her a private audience for he was very eager to hear whether rumours he had heard concerning the King of England were true.
Isabella began by telling him how delighted she was to be in her native land.