The Follies of the King - Plaidy Jean (электронная книга TXT) 📗
‘My lord, you think of the most outrageous acts.’
Warenne’s eyes were sparkling. All the mischief of his nature was
uppermost. He liked the Countess. He liked attractive women. She was
charming and when she talked of her lover she was quite beautiful. He liked to help lovers, particularly those for whom life was not running smoothly. And what a truly marvelous way of attacking Lancaster. It was so much better than marching on Pontefract and engaging in battle.
‘It is necessary to be outrageous to win happiness,’ he said.
‘Then? what, my lord?’
‘You and I will leave here tomorrow. We will go off as though to the hunt.
Take with you what jewels you can. Have you a few trusted attendants, those who will serve with their lives? Let them pack other valuables and be ready to follow you with a saddle horse.’
‘Are you truly serious?’
‘If you are, my lady. Let us plan this with care and who knows perhaps
tomorrow you will have left Lancaster forever.’
Alice de Lacy clasped her hands and said: ‘I believe Providence sent you to Canford, my lord Surrey. For it is true that I could not have endured this state of affairs much longer.’
‘Then? tomorrow, dear Countess, we cut the knot. We shall escape
together and ere long you will be making arrangement for your lover to be with you.’
‘What can I say to you?’ she asked. ‘How thank you?’ Then a shrewd look
came into her eyes. ‘You have your reasons. Perhaps you dislike Lancaster as much as I do.’
‘I dislike him, my lady, as much as I love to help a lady in distress.’
It was a good enough answer.
It had to come, she told herself. And now is the time.
???????
By this time, the Queen was pregnant again. Her plan was working well. She had young Edward, now aged six years old and sturdy; there was John aged two and now another child coming. John was not quite as healthy as his elder brother but perhaps he only seemed a little delicate because Edward was so lusty;
however, his health gave no real cause for concern. She was gathering together her little family.
It was irksome that there should be so much delay, but inevitable. Each day she despised Edward more but she could remind herself that in time she would be free of him. There would come a day when they would part, when she would make him pay for all the humiliations he had heaped on her; and that day would be worth waiting for.
She cherished news from France because her hopes were fixed on her native
land. Louis le Hutin was dead. His Queen had borne a son shortly after his death, a boy, Jean, but he had died within seven days. Poor little King of France who never knew that he had inherited a crown! Her brother Philip was now
King. He was called The Tall because of his unusual height. People said that the curse of the Templars was working in the royal family of France. It had killed first her father a few months after it had been uttered and now her brother Louis and his infant son. She knew that the people were asking themselves what other disasters were awaiting the family of the man who had destroyed the Knights Templars. Isabella had no great hopes of her brothers. They were weak. It would have been different if her father had lived.
Still, she would wait and when the opportunity came she would be ready to
seize it.
A great deal was happening in the country. Everyone was talking now of the abduction of the Countess of Lancaster by John le Warenne Earl of Surrey and Sussex.
What an extraordinary affair that was. Of course she had long known that
Alice de Lacy disliked her husband and had refused to live with him as his wife.
Poor Lancaster! Why had she ever admired him? She might at one time have
been tempted to take him as a lover; that would have been if she had not been determined that no one should cast suspicion at her until she was in a strong enough Position to withstand such an attack; and she was determined that no one should dare whisper that her children might not have been sired by the King.
Warenne was the devoted husband in all but name to Matilda of Nerford, so
it was strange that he should have eloped with Alice de Lacy. It was
understandable that Lancaster should have been furious, and had given vent to his anger by attacking Warenne’s lands in the north. A private war was going on between them and being conducted with all the methods of a civil war. She had told Edward that he should stop it. It was not good for battles to be fought in his country by his barons— one against the other.
It was better, said Edward, that they should fight each other than fight
against him.
He was right in this but it was demeaning for him to have to stand aside and watch these two men fighting their own war. He might have called a halt as far as Warenne was concerned but Lancaster was too strong for him. And for
Warenne too, it seemed, for already Lancaster had captured the castles of Sandal and Conisborough and the only way in which Warenne could save Grantham
and Stamford was by handing them over to the King.
In vain Edward ordered hostilities to stop. Warenne had pleaded that it was impossible for him to desist while Lancaster attacked him and Lancaster, of course, was a law unto himself.
And the Countess? wondered Isabella. What of her? It was a mysterious
affair, for she could not believe that Warenne and Alice de Lacy were lovers.
There was more in this little adventure than there appeared to be.
Perhaps in due course she would discover, but her own affairs were of far
greater consequence. And the biggest irritation of her life was the young
Despenser. She could see what was happening there. The handsome young man
was creeping into that place which had been occupied by the detestable
Gaveston; and, like Gaveston, young Hugh knew that she hated him, as indeed it was natural that she should. Gradually he would work against her. She must beware of that.
In the meantime there was the child.
She was at Woodstock in Oxfordshire for the birth. She had always loved
Woodstock, a place which took its name from the magnificent forests which
surrounded it. Vudestoc was the old Saxon name meaning a wooden spot.
Ethelred had held his Wittenagemot there, but it was chiefly noted for being the place where Henry the Second, Edward’s great-great grandfather, had kept his mistress, The Fair Rosamund, and where this little intrigue had been discovered by Henry’s vindictive queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine.
There was a woman Isabella admired. She had taken strong action against
her erring husband. True it had resulted in her imprisonment but she had had sons to stand by her.
Yes, she was glad that she had come to Woodstock to bear her child.
It was an easy birth and this time a girl.
‘I will call her Eleanor,’ she said, ‘after her great ancestress.’
???????
It seemed as though that period of ill luck was passing. The summers had
returned to normal, the harvest had improved; and there was good news from Ireland where Edward Bruce had set himself up as King. Edward Bruce, great soldier that he was, lacked the genius of his brother Robert; it was said that his pride was immense and that he yearned to stand above all others. The English colonists in Ireland had been fighting against him ever since he landed but he had usually come through victorious, for when he had been in difficulties his brother Robert had joined him with reinforcements and all went well while the two were together. But Robert could not leave his newly acquired kingdom for long and there was constant trouble on the border, so Edward Bruce was left to command alone.
There came the battle of Leinster. Edward Bruce’s advisers warned him that his enemies were a strong force and that he should wait for reinforcements before going into attack, but he replied scornfully that one Scot was as good as five English and he cared not for the disparity in numbers. He was proved to be wrong, fatally for him. He was slain at Dundaik and his army routed. His head was sent to King Edward and his quarters set up in four towns so that all might know that the erstwhile King of Ireland was no more.
