They had not ridden far from Paris when they were joined by the rest of their company who had been warned of her flight and had come to join her. All agreed that it would be safest for them to get as quickly out of France as possible and it was with great relief that they crossed the border into Hainault.

Weary with the day’s riding and feeling now that they could afford to rest awhile, they came to the town of Ostrevant and stopped at a house which proved to belong to a knight named Sir Eustace d’Ambreticourt. When he realized that the lady was the Queen of England he was overcome with the honour of meeting her and he and his family insisted that she rest in their house with the few of her followers whom they could accommodate and lodging should be bund for the rest within the town.

Isabella was delighted with such hospitality. How different, she said to Mortimer, from the way in which we were treated in France!

‘Ah, my love,’ laughed Mortimer, ‘we were well received by your brother until we stayed too long. But I agree the welcome of this simple knight warms my heart.’

Sir Eustace said that he must inform the Count of Hainault that he had such august visitors for he was sure that the Count would wish to greet the guests.

The Count’s response was to send his brother to meet the party and offer them the hospitality of his castle. It was thus that Isabella first met Sir John Hainault.

Sir John was young, romantic, idealistic and eager to prove himself a chivalrous knight, and here was a lady in distress. And what a beautiful one!

Isabella quickly summed up his nature and decided to appear feminine and pathetic. She played her part well and he was overcome with the desire to serve her.

‘It is so good of you to come to me thus and offer such kindness,’ she told him. ‘I have been treated harshly of late where I would expect to have received love and understanding.’

‘My lady,’ cried Sir John, ‘rest assured that you will know nothing but warmth and affection in this land.’

Isabella allowed the tears to show becomingly in her beautiful eyes. Sir John saw them and was most distressed.

‘Lady,’ he declared, ‘you see before you a knight who swears he will do everything in his power to aid you. He will not hesitate to the in your service.

Though everyone else should forsake you I will be there.’

This was fulsome devotion on such a brief acquaintance but Isabella knew that Sir John in his youthful exuberance meant what he said. It was gratifying and she felt better than she had since she had discovered her brother really meant to turn her out of his court.

Sir John went on: ‘Lady, you can rely on me. I will help you back to England with your son when you wish to go. When I have stated your case to my brother, he will give you men and arms, I am sure. He will want to help you― even as I do. I will risk my life in adventure for your sake. I promise you, you will have no need to fear either the King of France or the King of England.’

The Queen rose from her chair and so overcome with delight was she that she would have cast herself on her knees at the feet of Sir John, but with a horrified gesture he prevented her from doing so.

‘God forbid that you should kneel to me, Madam. Be of good cheer. My promise to you stands firm. My brother will listen to you. He has expressed admiration for you many times. I will take you to him and present you to his Countess and their children.’

The Queen wiped her eyes. ‘You are kinder to me than I dreamed any could be. You have shown me goodness of heart and courtesy. I promise you, this I shall never forget. My son and I will be eternally grateful to you and we shall ask you to help us govern England as it should be governed.’

They talked awhile and it was clear that the young man was completely overwhelmed by the charm and beauty of the Queen and meant what he said when he declared again and again that he would the in her cause.

He was eager to take her to his brother and she said a grateful farewell to Sir Eustace d’Ambreticourt, telling him that when she returned to England she wanted him to come there and bring his family and she would see that they were entertained right royally.

She then rode out with Sir John who took her to the court of his brother Count William of Holland and Hainault. There with his wife the Countess Jeanne who was the daughter of Charles of Valois, a son of Philip III of France and therefore related to Isabella, he received the company very warmly and took great pleasure in presenting Isabella to his four young daughters, Margaret, Philippa, Joanna and Isabel. They were rosy-cheeked, merry, typically Flemish girls, homely, skilled in domestic arts and charmingly innocent.

When Isabella proudly presented Edward the girls dropped curtsies to him and Isabella was immediately struck by the lack of formality in the family.

Edward was approaching fifteen years old— an outstandingly handsome boy, already tall for his age, long-legged, fair-haired and blue-eyed.

The girls, the eldest of whom was about his own age and the youngest not so much younger for they had quickly followed each other in getting born, were clearly intrigued by such a handsome boy and Edward was amused by them and their efforts to please him.

The Countess was eager to show that they could entertain their guests at Hainault as lavishly as they could in France which she remembered as a girl and a great many feasts, banquets and general entertainments were given.

Meanwhile Edward was left a great deal with the four girls. They rode together, played games, introduced each other to the customs of their countries and it was an enjoyable time for them all. Edward felt he had been lifted out of the fearful doubts which beset him. He knew that his mother was working against his father. He loved her dearly but he was uneasy; and to rest awhile in the rather simple but honest court of Hainault, where the Count and Countess were devoted to each other and their four merry daughters had no conception of family conflict, was for him a wonderful respite.

Of the four girls Edward selected Philippa as his favourite but he was too polite to show his preference. However when they rode out into the forest together he did contrive to get Philippa to himself.

‘Let us lose the others,’ he said.

Philippa’s habitually rosy cheeks were a shade deeper. ‘Do you think we can?’ she asked.

‘If you would wish it,’ answered Edward. ‘Would you?’

‘Oh yes,’ she cried, too honest to say anything but the truth.

‘Follow me,’ he told her.

He heard her high-pitched laugh as he spurred his horse. She obeyed and very soon they had galloped away and had come to a clearing in the forest. He pulled up and they were silent for a moment, smiling at each other.

‘Are you glad we came here?’ asked Edward.

‘Oh yes. It was so dull before you did. Do you find it dull here, Edward?’

‘Not when I am with you.’

She blushed charmingly and smiled at him shyly. ‘Do you really mean that?

But you must, must you not, since you say it? You mean the others as well, I suppose. Margaret is much cleverer than I and Joanna and Isabel prettier.’

‘That is quite untrue,’ he answered.

She looked astonished and he realized that she had really meant it, and was finding it hard to accept the fact that he really preferred her to her sisters.

‘What strikes me most about you,’ he told her, ‘is your honesty. Do you never say what you do not mean?’

‘What would be the point of that?’ she asked. ‘Speech is to express what we feel.’

‘I like you, Philippa,’ he said. ‘You are different from other people. I begin to fear that I live in a world of deceit.’

He was frowning. He could not tell innocent Philippa that he believed Mortimer was his mother’s lover and that his father had treated her badly because he would surround himself with favourites whom he loved better than he loved her.

‘What do you mean, Edward?’ asked Philippa, but he shook his head.

‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘It is too beautiful a morning to talk of such things.

Tell me about your childhood here. It was a happy one, I know. Your father and mother love you and each other dearly.’

‘But of course. We are all one family.’

He felt an impulse to lean forward and kiss her which he did.

She drew back blushing a little.

‘I like you so much,’ he explained.

‘I like you too, Edward.’

‘As a girl,’ he went on, ‘you will have to leave your home and marry one day.’

Her brow clouded. ‘I know my parents think of it sometimes. I heard my father say to my mother that she wanted to keep us all children forever.’

‘And do you want to stay a child forever?’

She was thoughtful. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not now. Besides it would be no use, would it? I dare swear one day I shall have to go away. Margaret will go first because she is the eldest.’

‘Boys are more fortunate, especially heirs to crowns. They do not have to leave their countries.’

‘No. You will stay in England and your bride will come to you. But she will have to leave her home of course. She will not mind that, though.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I know she won’t mind once she sees you.’

‘Philippa, would you mind?’

She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I should be glad.’

Then she feared she had said too much for his eyes had taken on a deeper shade of blue and he was smiling.

It seemed as though there was a sudden silence in the forest. Then Philippa said: ‘You will be a King and a King of England. They will have to find you a very grand princess to be your Queen.’