The Follies of the King - Plaidy Jean (электронная книга TXT) 📗

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.

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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.

Her women had left her and she lay in anticipation of his coming.

‘Tomorrow, my lord of Cornwall,’ she murmured to herself, ‘you are going to find yourself decidedly out of favor.’

She smiled to herself. Dear Edward. He was tender, so eager to please.

He was long in putting in an appearance. He might be delayed of course. It was his first night in his country. Surely, none of those dreary barons would detain him tonight? This was not the night for talking State business.

But how long he was!

An hour had passed. But still he had not come. What could it mean?

She rose from her bed and went to the door of her chamber. One of her

women came to her at once.

‘Is aught wrong, my lady?’

‘The King has been delayed. He has not yet come to his bed.’

The woman averted her eyes and Isabella caught her by the wrist. “Do you

know where he is?’

‘No, my lady.’

‘Find out.’

The woman escaped. Isabella went back to her bed. She sat on it, her eyes

on the door. At any moment he would come. She would scold him, pout a little, insist that he placate her.

But he did not come.