Notorious (9 page)

Edward joined Isabelle at the rail. “The people love you, Mother.” He raised his arm and waved back at the harvesters. Then the queen too lifted her hand and waved to the people.

Brianna watched as Isabelle's face became transformed with pure delight.
This is the very best thing that could have happened to restore her self-confidence.

As the stately royal barge glided down the River Thames past Chertsey and Richmond the people in the villages rejoiced at the sight of their queen. Their reception was mild, however, compared to the reaction from the throngs gathered on the wharves and streets as the royal vessel approached the Tower of London. Wild shouts, whistles, and cheers of adulation spread along the river embankment as Londoners paid homage to Queen Isabelle the Fair.

On the return trip to Windsor, the queen and her ladies enjoyed the food that had been prepared in the vast kitchens and brought aboard in the early morning for the alfresco luncheon. Brianna poured wine for Isabelle and noticed that her face was flushed with pleasure because her subjects had clearly demonstrated that they held her in high esteem.

During the last week of September, Queen Isabelle and her ladies took advantage of the superb weather. They spent their days outside, riding in Windsor's great park, hawking in the nearby forest or gliding on the River Thames to fascinating places like Runnymede and Maidenhead.

The company and the outings had an extraordinary effect on the queen. Her forlorn manner began to disappear. Hopelessness was replaced by anticipation. Her spirit became lighter, she began to smile and laugh, and her shining beauty returned in full measure.

 

“Warwick has sent an escort of six to safeguard my return to Flamstead.” Jory did not want either Isabelle or Brianna to feel sad that she was leaving Windsor. “I warrant my husband has given them orders to abduct me, if I delay my return.”

“I am so reluctant to part with you that I have decided we shall accompany you as far as Saint Albans. It is less than a half-day's ride and the views of the Chiltern Hills will be breathtaking at this time of year.”

“That is a lovely idea,” Brianna agreed. “If you send word to Father, he could meet us there and I will be able to say good-bye.”

“I should like a chance to thank the Earl of Warwick in person for helping to vanquish my enemies,” Isabelle said.

“I shall dispatch a letter to Guy immediately, advising him of our plans. He will be most honored to receive your thanks and happy to see with his own eyes that you are flourishing.”

 

Two days later, Queen Isabelle, Brianna, and Jory, escorted by a small cavalcade of Warwick men-at-arms and royal grooms, rode into the courtyard of the ancient Abbey of Saint Albans.

Brianna lifted her hand to shade her eyes from the midday sun. “Father is here before us,” she said happily.

“Warwick is eager to get his wife back,” Isabelle declared, as a trio of males strode across the courtyard. “You are a most fortunate woman, Jory.”

Guy de Beauchamp bowed to the queen, then moved to her side and held up powerful arms. “May I have the honor, Your Highness?”

Isabelle bestowed a radiant smile upon the infamous earl and allowed him to lift her from the saddle.

Guy Thomas, who had accompanied his father, went directly to his mother's stirrup and helped her to dismount.

Brianna's smile of welcome was wiped away as she recognized the third man.
Wolf Mortimer, what the hellfire are you doing here?
When the dark Borderer made no move to aid her from the saddle, she was acutely annoyed…She had wanted the satisfaction of rejecting his offer. Her irritation deepened when she realized he wasn't even looking at her. His attention was riveted upon the queen, as she graciously thanked the Earl of Warwick for his service to her.

Brianna stared as her father beckoned Mortimer and presented him to the queen. Her eyes narrowed as the dark devil took Isabelle's hand and kissed her fingers with a gallantry he had obviously learned from his father. He kept his voice low and she could not hear what he said to the queen, but she heard Isabelle's words clearly. “Please tell your father that the Queen of England will be forever in Roger Mortimer's debt.”

Brianna felt chagrin when she realized she was the only one still in the saddle. One of the Warwick men, Simon Deveril, stepped forward to attend her and she gifted him with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Simon. Would you be kind enough to see that Venus is watered before our return journey?”

“I will take good care of her, and you also, Lady Brianna. The Earl of Warwick has assigned me to your service.”

She started to protest, then thought better of it.
Father loves me…It's only natural that he wants to protect me.
She smiled with commiseration. “Poor Simon, you have my sympathy.”

Brianna hurried to catch up with the others.

“The Benedictine Monks of the abbey have a large brew house. Saint Albans's ale is famous in these parts,” Warwick told the queen. “It will quench your thirst after your long ride. I'm told they use it in place of holy water,” he said with a straight face.

Brianna watched the queen take her father's arm and laugh up at him.
Isabelle is a natural coquette…She is starved for masculine attention.

When they entered the abbey, the abbot who was head of the Benedictine order, along with a number of brown-robed monks, came forward to welcome the queen to Saint Albans.

Brianna smiled as her brother sought to distance himself from the holy men by joining her. She pounced on him immediately. “What the devil is Wolf Mortimer doing in Father's company?”

“He came to Flamstead to buy a horse. He's on his way to join his father and the other Marcher lords at Oxford. Since this is the route he would take, Father invited him to ride with us. He jumped at the chance to meet the queen.”

Brianna experienced a pang of disappointment. She had imagined that Wolf Mortimer's sole purpose in coming to Saint Albans was the chance to see her. She blushed at her own vanity.

“Is it official? Are you now a lady in waiting to the queen?”

“Yes, my wish came true. Oh Lord, did you see which way they went? I'm supposed to attend her at all times.” Brianna picked up her skirts and hurried down the long nave. She went beneath an archway and found herself in a vaulted chamber with many exits and a stone staircase that led up into a high tower. She gazed about, perplexed.

“Mistress de Beauchamp, I see you are admiring the abbey. Did you know that it was built with stone from the ruins of the ancient Roman city of Verulam?”

She was disconcerted; he seemed to appear from nowhere. “I don't need a history lesson from you, Wolf Mortimer.”
Splendor of God, why does his very presence provoke a sharp response from me?

“You are right. A lesson in manners would benefit you far more.” He made no effort to hide his amusement.

She felt an overwhelming desire to wipe the mocking laughter from his face. Her eyes were drawn to his mouth and it angered her that she remembered his kisses. He looked so much like his father, yet at the same time there was a marked difference. Roger Mortimer's manner was polished and charming. The man before her had an aura of animal virility, tightly leashed. Deep down, she feared that she must keep up her defenses lest she succumb to the dark devil's compelling attraction.

“Did my father tell you that I am newly betrothed to Lincoln Robert de Warenne?” She uttered the words, hoping they would invoke a protective shield about her.

“An ideal choice.” He allowed the amusement to reach his eyes. “Such an upright youth will enjoy teaching you manners.” Inside, his gut knotted with disappointment to learn the proud beauty was betrothed. That de Warenne was heir to an earldom added to his misery. “I warrant he thoroughly disapproves of you joining the Queen's Court.”

The truth of his words stung her. “I didn't seek his approval. I am my own woman.”

“Poor lad. You will ride roughshod over him.”

She raised her chin. “Damn you, Wolf Mortimer. How dare you call Lincoln Robert a lad? He is only a year younger than you are!” She saw the folly of her words the moment she uttered them. They underscored the vast disparity between the two males. De Warenne would come up the loser in any comparison with the fierce young warrior who had patrolled the Welsh Borders for years and looked as if he'd cut his teeth on a sword.

Brianna's breasts rose and fell with her agitation. She stiffened with indignation as she saw his intense gray eyes gaze at her bodice. “What the devil are you staring at?”

“You are wearing a Celtic touchstone, painted with the image of Shadow.” He reached out to touch it. “The likeness is amazing.”

She felt suddenly breathless and licked her lips. “The she-wolf is a symbol of power, intelligence, and secret knowledge. My aunt Jane, who is Scottish, painted it for me to guide and protect me on my journey through life.”

He looked into her eyes. “Do you believe in mystic power, Brianna de Beauchamp?”

“Yes, I do,” she whispered.

His fierce expression softened. “So do I.” He held out his hand. “Come, I will take you to the queen.”

She hesitated, remembering their encounter on Warwick's battlements when he had vowed to collect a kiss from her the next time they met.

He read her thoughts and smiled wickedly. “I'll wait for the kiss, and all the other things I intend to have from you.”

She drew in a swift breath, not knowing if she was relieved or disappointed. “You are a Welsh devil, Wolf Mortimer.”

He rolled his eyes. “You have no idea, English!”

“T
he king is here!”

Brianna heard the dismay in Isabelle's voice. The moment they entered Windsor's Upper Ward on their return from Saint Albans they saw King Edward's attendants everywhere. Brianna dismounted quickly, turned Venus over to Simon Deveril, and went to the queen's side. She kept silent until Laurence Bagshot, the queen's groom, helped Isabelle to dismount. When he moved off toward the stables, Brianna gave her a reassuring smile. “Don't be alarmed, Your Grace…The hated Hugh Despencer will not be with him.”

Isabelle reached for her hand and Brianna was surprised to find it ice cold to the touch. When she felt the queen tremble, she realized that she must do something to bolster her confidence. She led the way to Isabelle's royal apartment, sat her down in a comfortable chair, and poured her a glass of wine.

“Why does he not leave me in peace? I had such a lovely day—why did he have to come to Windsor and ruin it?” Isabelle hissed. “I won't go down to the hall for dinner tonight. I shall keep to my rooms—we can dine up here.”

Brianna was appalled. She knelt to remove Isabelle's boots to give her time to think.
I know what my mother would say, but do I dare speak my mind to the Queen of England?
Brianna bit her lip.
Isabelle is relying on me to be her friend and her confidante. If I don't speak up, she will forever cower in her warren like a frightened little rabbit.

Brianna took a breath and plunged in. “Your Grace, you are making a grave mistake. You are the Queen of England. If you wish to be treated with dignity and respect, you must
act
like a queen,
dress
like a queen, and
speak
like a queen. You must wear your regality like a cloak. When you go into Windsor's Great Hall to dine, your entrance should make everyone gasp. It is a high honor to sup with a queen. Remember that you are honoring them with your presence. Never allow any to forget it for one moment. Not even the king…nay,
especially
not the king.”

Isabelle listened intently as she drank her wine.

“You are the mother of the future King of England. King Edward should treat you with deference and show you his gratitude for giving him such a splendid heir to the throne. Prince Edward will no doubt dine in the hall tonight. Take your rightful place beside him on the dais. Your son will be delighted to see you.”

“Perhaps Edward came to Windsor to see his son.”

“Of course he did,” Brianna assured her. “Though you believe the king's presence has ruined your day, you must not let him know it. You must never, ever cower before any man—it will give him power over you. If my mother were here now she would say,
If you lie down and make a doormat of yourself, the world will wipe its muddy boots on you.
”

Isabelle laughed tremulously. “That is exactly what Jory would say. Your mother is a wise woman.”

“Let me call the servants and order you a bath. Then I will help you choose a spectacular gown fit for a queen. Summon Marie and your other ladies and we will all attend you in the hall tonight. You won't be alone for one moment. If your confidence starts to slip, remember how the people cheer when they see you aboard the royal barge. Londoners speak of you as Queen Isabelle the Fair. Let tonight be a new beginning for you.”

In less than two hours, Isabelle stood before a full-length mirror. Her reflection told her that she did indeed look regal. “My gown, jewels, and especially the way you have done my hair, have given me a measure of confidence…at least on the outside.” The deep blue taffeta had tight sleeves with jeweled cuffs. Its fitted bodice showed off her tiny waist and petite figure to perfection. A coronet studded with sapphires held her golden tresses away from her heart-shaped face, but allowed a few delicate tendrils at her temples.

Brianna opened the door, spotted a page boy in the corridor, and immediately assigned him a task. “If you do your part well, I will reward you with a silver sixpence.” She picked up a royal-blue velvet cushion with gold tassels and thrust it into his small hands. “We are on our way to the Great Hall to dine. You will follow behind the queen and place this cushion on her seat. Then you will bow very low to Queen Isabelle before you withdraw. Do you understand?”

The boy nodded solemnly, liking the attention and keen to earn the promised reward.

“Let me see you bow,” Brianna directed. “Very good.” She turned her attention back to Isabelle and gave her a warm smile of encouragement. “Think of it as a performance where we all have our parts to play. Marie, Countess of Pembroke, who holds the highest noble rank, should walk beside the queen and the rest of us will follow. Keep your heads high, ladies, and don't forget to smile.”

Marguerite, Maude, and Arbella were wearing their newest gowns, copied from the latest French styles worn by the Countess of Pembroke. Brianna, however, had chosen to wear her plain gray silk. The dress was usually a flattering counterpoint to her glorious red-gold hair, but tonight she covered her bright curls with a demure silk head veil. She did not want to draw attention to herself, or be recognized by the king. He had been complicit in dismissing her mother from the queen's service, and Brianna was exercising caution so it wouldn't happen to her.

When Isabelle entered the Great Hall she stopped to gather her courage. To those already present, however, it looked as if the queen had paused deliberately until all eyes were upon her. It caused a stir among the king's attendants and it caught the attention of Prince Edward, who was seated on the dais next to his father.

Young Edward smiled with pleasure. “Mother!” The prince immediately got to his feet as he had been taught to do by his tutors. The king's attendants followed suit and stood respectfully for the beauteous Queen of England.

The king, sprawling in his chair, imbibing wine, his second favorite indulgence, turned his head toward the entrance and saw the queen. Prompted by the example of the courtiers present, and mindful of his agenda, Edward arose and waited for Isabelle to come forward.

Brianna nudged Marie, impelling her to advance into the hall. She let out a relieved breath when Isabelle matched her cousin's steps. Brianna gave the page a gentle push and smiled as the boy fell in behind the queen with more dignity than a bishop.

Up on the dais, Prince Edward greeted his mother with a welcoming kiss. The page boy proudly placed the cushion upon the queen's seat, stepped back, and solemnly bowed.

The king lifted Isabelle's fingers to his lips in a show of gallantry and waited until she sat down before he resumed his own seat. The Countess of Pembroke curtsied to King Edward and sat down beside the queen.

Brianna led the other ladies in waiting to the first table below the dais, where she could quietly observe the royal couple. She noted with satisfaction that tonight, Isabelle looked every inch a queen. Her glance was drawn to King Edward, and she studied him with dispassionate eyes.

Indulgent living has aged him beyond his thirty-eight years. His body is flabby and soft beneath his fashionable garments. His eyes are pouched from drink and his mouth is weak and petulant, like that of a spoiled woman.
Brianna suppressed a shudder.

Edward lifted a careless hand, and a servitor stepped forward to refill the king's goblet.

“When I arrived, I was surprised to learn you were not at Windsor,” he drawled. “Where were you, Isabelle?”

“Some of my ladies and I decided to ride out to Saint Albans Abbey. I gave alms to the abbot to thank him for prayers on my behalf.” Isabelle was quite used to speaking half-truths to protect herself. She regularly went on pilgrimages to Canterbury and other towns with great cathedrals and religious shrines. It was often her single means of escaping the odious presence of her husband and Hugh Despencer.

Edward was the only male in the hall who was indifferent to the queen's delicate beauty. To him she looked like a pretty doll. She stirred no personal interest in him, and her value was solely the goodwill she engendered with the people. He could not control his feelings of resentment over her popularity, yet at the same time he knew the esteem in which his subjects held her was a political asset he could not afford to lose.

Edward was mindful of the reason for his visit. “When you ride out with your ladies, Isabelle, you give little thought to your safety. I warrant I have been most negligent in providing you with adequate protection.”

I prefer your negligence to your attention.

“I have ordered a small troop of royal guards to accompany you on your travels. I'm sure our son would be happier if his mother had a military escort to protect her.”

Since the king solicited the prince's approval, Isabelle could hardly refuse. “Thank you, Edward,” she said graciously.

Dining with her husband had effectively killed Isabelle's appetite. She was unable to banish her apprehension, yet she played her role as queen like an accomplished actress, tasting every dish set before her. She said little, but smiled often, and listened to the conversation Edward was having with their son.

“I'm on my way to Portchester Castle, Hampshire.”

“Doesn't that overlook the Isle of Wight, where the fleet is anchored?” Prince Edward had a good grasp of geography and a keen interest in ships.

Thank God he's leaving. The farther the better!
Isabelle's apprehension eased enough for her to enjoy her dessert. She finished her slice of pear tart covered with thick clotted cream, then watched with pleasure as her son devoured two helpings.

“I have some news I'm sure will please you, Isabelle.” Edward held out his goblet for another refill.

She held her breath. Edward's news seldom pleased her.

“Leeds Castle is once again yours. I signed the official papers restoring it to you last week at Westminster. Traditionally, Leeds has always been part of the queen's dower, and I know the castle is a particular favorite of yours.”

Isabelle could not hide her delight. “Thank you, Edward. That is most generous of you.”
He is trying to make amends for the humiliation I have suffered. Or perhaps now that the hated Despencers have been removed from the Council, the other members are righting the wrongs done to England's queen, by restoring my property and revenues.

Isabelle hoped it was the latter. She lowered her lashes so he could not read her thoughts.
You have no special friend now that your disgusting favorite has been banished. Don't try crawling back to me because you are lonely. I foolishly forgave you once, but never again. I wouldn't lower myself to spit on you!

Edward was suddenly lost in his own thoughts. Soon he would be with Hugh. He closed his eyes, savoring the anticipation.
Portchester Castle will make an ideal residence where Hugh can come and go at will. The Solent and the Isle of Wight will give his vessel fast, easy access to the English Channel and there are scores of inlets where he can come ashore unobserved. How clever he was to think of it!

 

Edward opened his eyes and glanced at Isabelle. He congratulated himself on how well he had played his part tonight. With any luck, he had set the wheels in motion that would turn the tide of ill fortune that had almost drowned him of late. Hugh's plot to capture the people's support and goodwill, which they lavished upon the queen, was both clever and cunning.

I have baited the trap with Leeds Castle. Isabelle's eyes are sparkling with anticipation. She has no idea that Hugh and I have chosen her as our instrument to avenge ourselves against our enemies.
Edward raised his goblet to salute his gullible queen.

 

“I want to thank all of you for your help tonight.” Isabelle smiled happily. “I could not have done it without your encouragement and support. You were quite right, Brianna. I masked my intimidation and, lo and behold, my apprehension gradually melted away.”

“You looked very beautiful tonight, Your Grace,” Marguerite Wake declared. “Each time you lifted your hand, your jeweled cuffs sparkled in the candlelight.”

“The jewels Marie lent me, and my elegant new gown, imbued me with a confidence I did not possess at the start of the evening.”

“You looked completely poised and self-assured sitting up on the dais with the prince and the king.” Brianna removed the sapphire coronet Isabelle wore and handed it to Marie. “Do you have no jewels at all, Your Grace?”

“I have a few pieces of jewelry left, but I was forced to lock them away and hide them in my apartment in the Tower of London for safekeeping.”

“It is unthinkable that anyone would dare steal the Queen of England's jewels,” Marie declared with disbelief.

“Most of the indignities I suffered at the hands of Hugh Despencer were unthinkable, Marie. I'm glad you were not here to witness them.” Isabelle kicked off her slippers. “
Eh bien
, I am determined to put it all behind me, like a bad dream. Good night, ladies, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”