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!”
Chapter 8
“The 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 a
ll 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.”
Isabelle took Brianna’s hand, signaling her to stay.
“Let me help you with your gown.” Brianna unfastened the row of small buttons that ran down the back of the bodice.
“The king is on his way to Portchester Castle in Hampshire. We should be rid of him by tomorrow. I cannot believe my good fortune.” She stepped from her gown and did a little pirouette.
Brianna smiled. Isabelle looked like a young girl tonight. Up on the dais, the king had looked twice her age.
“Edward has restored Leeds Castle to me!” Isabelle could not contain her excitement any longer. “I doubt i
t was from the goodness of his heart—Edward has no heart. Most likely it was the Council prompted him to do it. Tomorrow we will make plans for a visit. It’s like a fairy-tale castle; you will love it.”
“I hear tell it has a beautiful lake.”
“Yes, the lake has two islands connected by a bridge. The castle on the inside is like a luxurious palace. It even has a marble bathing room. The other island has a pavilion enclosing a courtyard garden with a carp pond and a lovely tiered fountain. The first King Edward built it for his queen.”
“It sounds delightful…I’ve never been to Kent.”
“The hops will be ripe and the hedgerows ablaze with flowers. It’s October tomorrow…We must go before the weather changes.”
Brianna’s thoughts darted about like quicksilver as she lay in bed, savoring the fact that at last she was a lady in waiting to Isabelle, Queen of England. Wishes really can come true! At long last I am following in Mother’s footsteps. She left home when she was exactly my age to become a lady in waiting to Princess Joanna, right here at Windsor.
Saying good-bye to her parents at Saint Albans today had brought a lump to her throat. She loved them dearly. They had taught her to embrace life, and were now willing to let go of her, so that she could make her own decisions and move confidently forward into the future. It was exhilarating to be part of Isabelle’s court and tomorrow they would make plans for a visit to Leeds Castle.
That’s where Edmund Mortimer was married not long ago. Leeds Castle sounds like a most romantic setting for a wedding. Lincoln Robert and I will be married at Flamstead—not nearly as romantic.
Brianna’s imagination took flight, as she pictured herself wearing a beautiful wedding gown and a jeweled coronet with a sheer, billowing veil. She drifted into a dream and found herself standing before an altar that stood beneath a pillared pavilion in a lush garden. She could smell the fragrant jasmine that twined about the pillars and hear the splash of the pretty, tiered fountain as she smiled up at Lincoln Robert, who stood proudly by her side.