John shook his head and murmured: ‘One never knows. Sometimes these marriages don’t take place. In any case, I shall go among them and they can take their oaths of allegiance. It will remind them that I have my eyes on them.’

‘And when you return I doubt not that we shall be arranging your wedding.’

‘I doubt it not either,’ replied John, a smile curving his lips.


Isabella saw the messengers arriving at the castle and she wondered what news they had brought. She ran down to the courtyard accompanied by two of her attendants. They stood back and watched the grooms take the horses while the messengers were brought into the hall.

Hugh was there.

Isabella ran to him and caught his hand. He pressed hers with affection and eager as he was to hear the news, he had time to smile down at her.

The messenger said: ‘My lord of La Marche, the King of England is on his way. He will be here before the day is out. He wishes to assure himself of your allegiance and will want you to swear your oaths afresh.’

‘He is coming solely to me?’ asked Hugh in amazement.

‘Nay, my lord. He is visiting every castle in this neighbourhood. To save him time he wishes you to send a message to the Count of Angoulême. He would have him swear his oath here in your castle so that he need not make the journey to him.’

‘It shall be done,’ said Hugh.

Isabella uncurled her hand from his. She turned and ran out of the hall and went to the bedchamber which adjoined that shared by her attendants.

They came running in to tell her the news she already knew.

‘My lady, my lady, King John is coming here.’

She did not want to talk to them, which was strange. She wanted to be alone.

He was coming here. She would see him again – the man whom she had encountered in the forest and whom she had never forgotten. They would see each other again. What would he be like then? Would he look at her as he had in the forest? Why was he coming here? To make Hugh swear his oath. A notion came to her that there might be another reason. Could he be coming to see her?

No, even she could not believe that. Beautiful as she was, he was a king and he must make his vassals swear allegiance now and then. There was a perfectly good reason for his coming. He would remember her, she was sure, but it could well be that he had forgotten the meeting in the forest.

Whatever it was she could scarcely wait to see him.

She ran to the top of the castle to see if she could see a party approaching. How would he come? Royally, of course, with pennants flying. He would ride at the head of his men; he would come into the country and Hugh would have to be waiting there. Poor Hugh, he was of little account compared with this man. She had liked to see the manner in which Hugh was lord of his castle and how her father had talked of him as though he were of great importance. She had thrilled at the thought of the power Hugh wielded over so many people. And with her he was soft and yielding and she would have her way with him; what she wanted she would wheedle out of him. She knew and exulted in the knowledge. And now had come this man – this King of England before whom Hugh must bow the knee. He was the all-powerful one – the overlord.

It was exciting; it was thrilling. Which ribbon should she wear in her hair? He would be there this night. There would be feasting in the great hall. Perhaps she would play the lute for him and sing a song – it would be a song of love and longing which Hugh said fondly she sang as though she knew all about it.

In the castle they said: ‘The Lady Isabella looks more beautiful than ever. She is so excited at the prospect of seeing her parents again.’


It was as she had thought. He came most royally. The heralds announced his arrival and the sound of their trumpets sent shivers of excitement through her. She had decided against ribbons for her hair and shook it loose about her shoulders; she wore a blue velvet gown caught in at her tiny waist with a golden girdle.

She was in the hall when he entered. She would have known he was the King by his garments alone. He wore the usual loosely fitting gown buckled at the neck, with sleeves wide at the top caught in at the wrists, but the cloth of this garment was of the finest material she had ever seen. It was silk decorated with gold. He wore a cloak of royal purple which like his blue silk gown was decorated with gold tracing. The belt which caught in his gown at the waist glittered with magnificent jewels and these he wore on his fingers, at his throat and at his wrists. She had never seen a man shine so and she was enchanted by those beautiful gems.

Hugh was bowing to him, but she saw the King’s eyes wandering round the hall until they came to rest on her.

She hastily curtsied, lowering her eyes, and when she lifted them she saw that they were upon her and the look in them was the same as that which he had bestowed on her in the forest. The notion came to her then that he had come here not so much to accept Hugh’s homage and that of her parents but to see her.

She heard him saying: ‘Who is yonder little girl?’

Hugh answered: ‘She is Isabella, daughter of the Count of Angoulême, my betrothed, who is being brought up in this castle.’

‘Present her to me,’ said the King.

She came forward; her eyes alight with excitement, her cheeks faintly flushed.

Hugh’s hand was on her shoulder, pressing down, implying that she should kneel.

She did so and then she felt the King’s hands on her, raising her up.

‘Why,’ he said, ‘it is such a pretty child. You are a most fortunate man, Hugh.’

And his eyes were burning into her, saying something which she could not fully understand and yet to which she could respond.

Hugh pushed her gently aside and led the King to the apartment which had been prepared for him. Isabella went to her room, her attendants twittering round her.

‘What think you of the King?’ they whispered.

‘His reputation does not lie.’

‘I shivered when he looked at me.’

‘I did not see him look at you,’ said Isabella sharply.

‘He did, my lady, before he found you. Then he had eyes for no one but you.’

She laughed. ‘Is he really as wicked as they say, think you?’

‘More so,’ was the answer.

‘Come, prepare me for the banquet. It will be such as we have never had before. It is not often that we entertain a king here.’ She could scarcely wait to see him again.

In the banqueting hall he sat beside Hugh. He was pleased, he said, that Hugh was now in possession of La Marche. ‘Oh, you stole a march on us, my good Hugh,’ said the King waggishly. ‘How dare you imprison my mother and then force her to give up La Marche?’

‘It seemed the only way of getting a decision, my lord. And I promise you it is better for your territories to live in peace than to wage perpetual war on one another.’

‘And you will see that there is peace here, my lord Count. You have done well to make a truce with Angoulême. And where are the Count and Countess? Did they not hear that I wished them to present themselves?’

‘They will arrive tomorrow, my lord. ’Tis the soonest they could get here. They sent word that they would leave at once on receiving your orders.’

‘Then that is well. I may rest here and enjoy your hospitality for a few days instead of making the tedious journey to Angoulême. Ah, I see there your little bride-to-be. She is charming. I will have her sit on my other side and that will show everyone in what high esteem I hold you.’

He beckoned to her and she came to stand before him, bowing in a most delightful way. He had been right. He had never seen a girl like that before. Twelve years old. What would she be like when she was eighteen? He knew instinctively that there was one who could give pleasure such as he had never known before.

‘Come, my little one,’ he said, ‘sit beside me.’

He took her hand, his hot fingers pressing it firmly. He drew her towards him and held her there for a moment. ‘You must not be overawed by one who wishes you as much good as I do. Come, be seated.’

His hands touched her as she sat.

The venison was carved. As the highest ranking nobleman present, Hugh stood behind the King’s chair and served him. This ceremony was one which appealed to the King for there were moments during it when Hugh must actually kneel before him. It was good for the little one to see the man they had chosen for her husband kneel to one who was so much greater. John knew that power was one of the most potent ingredients of sexual attraction with some females. Many an otherwise virtuous woman had surrendered to him because he was the King’s son, King’s brother and later the King. Rank could be a powerful aphrodisiac. He picked out dainties from his platter and fed them to the lovely child beside him. Now and then he would look at Hugh. ‘You see, my lord, how I am determined to honour you.’

The meal over, the minstrels played. Isabella had been brought up to love music and taught to sing and play, and when John was asked if he would care to hear her sing for him he replied that this would give him great delight.

So she sang for him a song of love and longing. By God’s ears, he thought, I would never want to leave my bed were she put in it.

Twelve years. What a delectable age! And never known a man yet. He would be the first. He must be. He would be ready to give a great deal for that one.

He wished that she were the daughter of some poor knight whom he was visiting, so that he might say: ‘Your daughter pleases me. She shall share my bed this night.’