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.

Of course the woman came in, nervous, eyes downcast.

‘The King was seen in conversation with one of his ministers.’

Isabella curbed her rising anger. She did not want to betray her feelings.

People gossiped. She would not let Edward know how much he meant to her.

That would be unwise.

‘State matters,’ she murmured yawning.

‘It is so, my lady.’

She was angry. Her mother would have said: ‘A King is first a king. You must remember that.’

Her father was a man who would always consider his kingship before anything else.

But Edward― Who would have believed it! She was going to be very angry with him.


* * *

It was late next day when she saw him. He was in the in the company of Piers Gaveston. They were seated together in a window-sear, the light falling on Edward’s flaxen head which was very close to Gaveston’s dark one. They were laughing and whispering together. Of state matters! she thought angrily.

She advanced into the room.

‘Edward.’ Her voice was cold with its suppressed anger.

‘Ah!’ Gaveston had risen. He gave a bow which might be called ironic.

‘The Queen.’

‘Isabella!’ Edward sounded suitably contrite.

‘So you are here,’ she said advancing. ‘Are your state matters so pressing then?’

There was a short silence then. She stared for she could not believe what she saw— Piers Gaveston was wearing the diamond and ruby chain— Templars’ spoil— which her father had given to Edward.

Gaveston knew that she was startled. He lifted the chain with a delicate hand on which she immediately recognized the ruby and diamond ring, another of her father’s gifts. She was too bewildered for speech.

‘Very pressing,’ Gaveston was saying. ‘It is long since the King and I were together. We had much time to make up for. Is that not so, dear lord?’

‘Oh yes, yes,’ said Edward.

Isabella turned to the King. ‘The chain,’ she said, ‘the ring. He must have stolen them. Have you not seen―?’

Gaveston laughed. ‘Are they not beautiful? I could have swooned with delight when my dear lord set the chain about my neck and put the ring on my finger.’

Edward spoke then haltingly, his eyes still on her fearful and yet faintly defiant. ‘Perrot loves rubies almost as much as diamonds―’ he said.

‘And the two combined are quite irresistible,’ added Gaveston.

‘These are priceless ornaments,’ cried Isabella. ‘They are my father’s gifts to us. They are for our children. You cannot let this man wear them.’

‘Ha!’ retorted Gaveston with a smirk. ‘My lord the King would never attempt to stop me wearing what is mine. Very precious they are to me but more because of the giver rather for their value.’

It was like a dream, a nightmare. Why should Edward give costly gifts to this young man? Why should he desert her for him?

She felt dizzy with apprehension. She remembered sly looks which she had failed to interpret.

She said: ‘I do not understand what this means. Edward, please dismiss this man. I have much to say to you.’

Edward looked at Gaveston who slowly shook his head.

‘Edward!’ cried Isabella, arrogant and appealing all at once.

Edward said, ‘I will see you later, Isabella. You see, my dear, having been away, there is so much to say to Perrot. Later I will explain.’

She felt weak and inadequate to deal with this situation and that was not due to Edward but to Gaveston.

She turned and went back to her chamber. She turned her attendants away.

She lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Understanding was beginning to dawn on her. How many had married, gone to a new country and found confronted by a husband’s favoured mistress.

She did not have to face a mistress. She had to face Gaveston.


* * *

Perhaps her Aunt Marguerite was the best choice of confidante for she understood now that her aunt had made an attempt to prepare her.

What sort of man had she married? This was monstrous. How could he have deceived her so? She wished she had been told from the beginning. She had heard of these matters. Richard Coeur le Lion had loved his own sex and had neglected his wife. Consequently he had left no heirs and the kingdom had passed to his brother King john. Was that what was happen again? She would be no barren Queen. She would be the mother of kings. She had determined on that.

She took her aunt’s hand and said to her: ‘I want you to tell me the truth.

What sort of man is this I have married?’

The Dowager Queen flushed to the roots of her hair. ‘So, you know about Gaveston.’

‘I know that I saw the King not all through the night. Do you mean he shared that man’s couch?’

‘It has been an unfortunate friendship,’ said the Dowager Queen. ‘His father feared it and sought to break it. He banished Gaveston but as soon as Edward became King he recalled him.’

‘He must be banished again. He is a loathsome creature.’

‘I agree, my dear, but will Edward?’

‘He must be made to.’

‘The barons would be with you.’

‘Ah the barons. Then there is hope. Oh, my dear aunt, I was so happy.

Edward seemed― perfect. I cannot believe this. I saw that man wearing the jewels my father had given to my husband. How could he give them to that man!’

‘He will give anything to Gaveston.’

Isabella stamped her foot in fury. ‘I’ll not endure it. He has deceived me. If my father had known this, he would never have allowed me to marry him.’

The Dowager Queen looked sad. Of course her brother had known of it.