Read Online Isabella: Braveheart of France by Colin Falconer - Free Book Online Page A

She strokes his hair while he weeps. She does not know whether she should feel pleased or horrified. Not far past her sixteenth birthday and already she feels as weary as a crone.
     
    ***
     
    The Ordinances are publicly proclaimed on the twenty-seventh day of September in St. Paul’s Churchyard, and Archbishop Winchelsea announces that anyone who dares violate them will be excommunicated from the Church.
    Gaveston leaves on All Saint’s Day for the Brabant. For weeks Edward is inconsolable.
    But one morning his mood lifts. He appears at court with a jaunty air, and even greets her with a smile. She goes at once in search of Rosseletti to discover what mischief he has been up to now.
    “Gaveston is back in England,” he says.
    “Here? In England? How could he be so stupid?” Gaveston has been gone scarcely a month. A month!
    “He was sighted first at Tintagel, then at Wallingford. He has come with Edward’s full knowledge and consent. The barons have knowledge of it now and have ordered a search.”
    Isabella stands up, gathering her skirts. “Where is Edward?”
    “It would not be wise to offend the king,” he tells her.
    “Really, Rosseletti,” she murmurs, though she is ready to burst. “Have you ever known me to lose control of myself?”
    “No, your grace.”
    “Nor shall I then,” she says and sweeps from the room.
     
    ***
     
    The King retreats to Windsor for the Christmas season. His high spirits are now explained. She smiles and says nothing.
    There are Biblical murals in her apartments: one depicts the parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins, which seems a cruel joke. I have been ready for my bridegroom for a long time , she thinks. That night he asks her to leave a candle burning in her bedchamber, and sometime after the bells have rung for Compline, the door creaks open and he slips in. This time she wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace, determined to do more than just lie there, wishing for something more.
     
    ***
     
    Gaveston has a wife, Margaret. She is the younger sister of one of her other ladies, Eleanor, and is barely older than Isabella herself. Her first baby is not long to be born, so her husband has clearly not spent every night in the king’s chamber. Isabella feels a kinship with her, because of their unique situation, but she is not easily drawn into conversation.
    But one morning, as she is combing out her hair, Margaret bends to whisper in her ear: “The king came to your bed last night,” she murmurs.
    “How did you know?”
    “The servants gossip about everything. If you sneeze in the Upper Ward of the castle, by the time you come down to the Great Hall someone has fetched herbs and warm honey.”
    “There was blood on the sheet this morning. I expect all England will know by Christmas Day that I am no longer a maiden.”
    “Did it hurt you?”
    “It hurt a little. But he was gentle.”
    “You are disappointed?”
    “I thought there should be more than discomfort to my wedding night, if that was what it was.” Margaret bites her lip, and Isabella senses that she would like to say more. She has already uttered more words this morning than in the past four years. “What is it like...for you?”
    “Piers is a kind man and a good husband, for all that they say about him.” She puts a hand on Isabella’s arm. “Don’t expect more from them than they can give, it will only make you unhappy. At least he does not bull every servant girl in the castle like...”
    “You were about to say ‘like my Uncle Lancaster.’”
    “Forgive me. But I think that would be worse.”
    There is a commotion at the gate. They go to the window and look down into the cobbled yard. It is Gaveston, returned from his exile. He wears a red cloak with a gold clasp, and a jaunty red hat with an emerald jewel winking in the sun. He looks dapper even as an outlaw.
    He leaps down from his horse into the embrace of his king. They laugh and walk arm in arm back into the great Hall, the