Brianna was appalled. “Your Grace, you are the Queen of England. Did you not complain to King Edward about the shocking way that Hugh Despencer was treating you?”
“I tried…on the few occasions I was permitted to see my husband. Edward insisted that because of his father’s wars, England’s coffers were empty. He told me that as chamberlain, his dearest friend Hugh was forced to institute economies in the royal household. He grudgingly agreed to pay for the children’s nursemaids, for which I was thankful.”
“The avaricious bastards grew rich at your expense,” Jory declared passionately. “When Warwick told me they took back sixty-three manor houses and thousands of sheep and cattle that the Despencers had accumulated, I was outraged at their greed.”
“I was well aware of the Despencers’ power since they were the principal members of the King’s Council, but I had no idea of the vast lands and properties they had unlawfully amassed or the wealth they had stolen from the Marcher lords and the barons of England.”
“Now that the hated Despencers are exiled and forbidden to return without consent of Parliament, you must forget about them.”
“Jory, I will never forget!” she whispered fiercely. “I loathe and detest Hugh Despencer with every ounce of my being. Exile is too good for him. I wish him dead!” The ice-hard expression on Isabelle’s beautiful face softened. “I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to Warwick and Thomas of Lancaster and to Roger Mortimer, who came all the way from Ireland to deliver me from my enemies.”
“Ridding England of the Despencers was brave and heroic,” Jory agreed, “but it was in their own best interests, Isabelle.”
“To me they are saints,” the queen insisted.
“Roger Mortimer is the most gallant man I’ve ever known.” Brianna’s face was radiant as she remembered the last time she had seen him mounted upon his black stallion.
“His handsome looks and his charm are enough to turn any woman’s head and have captured my daughter’s imagination. But the qualities I admire most are his strength and determination.”
Brianna and Isabelle exchanged a look that told Jory both females were in danger of losing their hearts to the virile devil. She deliberately changed the subject. “The Earl of Pembroke wed your cousin. I would love to meet her.”
“And so you shall. Marie is here at Windsor. You will both love her. Her Parisian gowns put mine to shame. I haven’t had the pleasure of any new clothes for a very long time. Alas, what beauty I had has faded. I have become pale and wan. When I could no longer bear to look at myself, I had my mirrors covered.”
“Dearest Isabelle, your beauty has not faded,” Brianna insisted. “You have an ethereal, delicate look that makes your face exquisite.”
“Do you really think so, Brianna?” Isabelle asked uncertainly.
“It is not any lack of beauty that is the problem here. It is your complete lack of confidence,” Jory insisted. “What the devil have those cruel swines done to you, Isabelle?”
The queen smiled tentatively. “Life will be good again, soon, I hope. Some of my musicians are back and I have just had my royal barge returned to me. We will be able to go out on the river again and perhaps my son Edward will join us. Please tell me you will stay here at Windsor with me for a little while so we can enjoy what is left of summer?” Isabelle pleaded.
“Thank you, Isabelle. I will be delighted to stay until the end of September, but Brianna’s dearest wish is to stay a whole year and serve you as a lady in waiting.”
The petite queen’s eyes lit with pleasure. “Brianna, would you really do that for me? I’ve been so alone…You have no idea what your company and your friendship would mean to me.”
“Your Grace, it is my great honor to serve you. You are the Queen of England, beloved by everyone.”
“Not everyone, I’m afraid.” Her small hand fluttered to her throat, and it tugged at Brianna’s heartstrings to see how unsure of herself the young queen had become.
“I can’t wait to see Prince Edward. I warrant he will easily outride me by now.” Brianna had ridden out regularly with the young prince when her mother had been part of the Queen’s Court.
“Edward has grown so tall, you won’t recognize him. I am told that he is the image of his grandfather, not just in looks, but in his personality also. Everyone remarks upon it.”
“Then you have good reason to be proud of him,” Jory said.
Isabelle summoned her steward. “I’d like you to plenish the same rooms that the Countess of Warwick previously occupied. When she leaves they will belong to Lady Brianna, who has graciously consented to serve as my new lady in waiting.”
Two hours later the de Beauchamp ladies had unpacked and their rooms, adjacent to the queen’s chambers in the Upper Ward, looked as if they had never left. Brianna opened the windows that overlooked Isabelle’s private garden. “I’m so glad these familiar rooms will be mine. Windsor is such a lovely castle.”
“You will have your work cut out for you,” Jory told her daughter. “The greatest service you can do for Isabelle is to restore her confidence. She is far too vulnerable and unsure of herself at the moment. It will do her a world of good to have a trusted friend in whom she can confide. You will serve as a perfect role model…You have an abundance of vitality and self-assurance, Lady Brianna de Beauchamp.”
“That is because you have always set such a glorious example for me, Mother.”
Jory smiled, pleased at the compliment. “Try to instill some of it in Isabelle. A queen should possess a regal confidence.”
“I will do my best,” Brianna promised.
“That’s all any of us can do. Let’s go and see the children. It’s been so long, perhaps they won’t remember us.”
When Brianna and her mother returned to Isabelle’s apartment, they found her holding her last-born, Princess Joan.
The tiny one-year-old had a heart-shaped face like her mother. “Oh, she is so beautiful…She looks exactly like you.”
“Thank you, Brianna. She is such a happy baby. Ah, here come John and Eleanor. My son is now six.”
“And Eleanor is four.” Brianna swooped up the child, who immediately chortled and tangled her fingers in the tempting red-gold curls. “She remembers my hair!” Brianna was delighted.
Prince John of Eltham carried a wooden sword and thrust it into all the chair cushions. Isabelle smiled indulgently. “He wants to be just like his big brother, Edward.”
Jory pretended to be afraid of the fierce warrior, and the child laughed with glee. “You have beautiful children, Isabelle.”
“I love them so much. They have helped me keep my sanity during the dark times when I was in despair.”
The following day, Isabelle introduced her French cousin. “It gives me great pleasure to present Marie de Chatillon, the new Countess of Pembroke. Marie, this is my dear friend Jory de Beauchamp, Countess of Warwick. She is the wonderful lady who befriended me and took me under her wing when I first came to England…and this is her beautiful daughter, Lady Brianna.”
Though Marie was not a great beauty, her clothes lent her an enviable elegance. Jory greeted her warmly. “Lady Pembroke, we are distantly related through marriage. Your husband is a cousin of my late uncle, John de Warenne. I am delighted that you have joined the Queen’s Court.”
“Lady Pembroke, it is apparent by the lovely gown you are wearing that you will be a font of information about the latest French fashions,” Brianna declared. “You put us all in the shade.”
“Please call me Marie. In Paris the latest style for gowns is fitted sleeves, tight bodices that are nipped in at the waist, and full billowing skirts.”
“It looks elegant on you, Marie, but I’m afraid the new fashion would do little for me,” Isabelle said wistfully.
“Your Grace, you are wrong!” Brianna insisted. “The fashion was designed for a lady with a petite figure like yours. On you it would look extremely graceful and feminine. I urge you to be fitted for such a gown. I wa
ger you will set the fashion and other ladies will be so envious they will copy you.”
Encouraged by Brianna and Jory, Isabelle was fitted for some new gowns, and Marie instructed the queen’s sewing women in the latest Parisian styles.
The September weather was glorious. Brianna enjoyed every day at Windsor as Queen Isabelle began to exercise her newfound freedom. One by one, the noble ladies who had been dismissed from the Queen’s Court returned. Lady Marguerite, the twenty-year-old daughter of Lord John Wake, recently restored to the queen’s household, arrived and Arbella Beaumont, daughter of Isabella de Vesci, one of the queen’s original ladies, eagerly took her mother’s place. Maude FitzAlan, the sister of Richard, Earl of Arundel, also returned to Queen Isabelle’s service. Once again, the lovely chambers of Windsor Castle began to ring with laughter and merriment.
At the urging of Brianna and her other ladies, Isabelle agreed to an outing on the river. The royal barge was outfitted with bright new cushions and a gold-fringed purple canopy to shade them from the sun. Hampers of food and wine were taken aboard and the queen’s musicians were brought along to provide music. Isabelle spoke with Prince Edward’s tutors and arranged for her son to join her on the river excursion.
As the royal barge moved out into the river, Brianna sat down beside Isabelle. She had brought the queen’s cloak in case Isabelle became chilled. “Was Prince Edward able to join us?”
“Yes, but the moment he came aboard he went belowdecks to watch the men who man the oars. He loves ships and he is at an age where strength and physical skills impress him.”
“If he is anything like my brother, he would much prefer a lesson in rowing to one in Latin.”
The young prince came up on deck and joined his mother. “You look happy today. The fresh air has put roses in your cheeks.” His eyes lit up as he recognized the young beauty who curtsied to him. “Brianna, I heard a rumor that you were visiting Windsor. I demand that you come and ride with me before you leave.”
“I’m not leaving. The queen has invited me to be a lady in waiting.” Brianna smiled at Prince Edward, amazed at how much he had grown since she had last seen him. Though he was younger than her brother, his tall athletic build belied his age. He had the striking Plantagenet features of his magnificent grandfather, and resembled a young golden god. He was born to be King of England, and what a splendid king he will be!
“That’s wonderful news. You are the only lady of my acquaintance who is knowledgeable about horse breeding. One of these days I intend to visit your castle of Flamstead and see for myself the famous Warwick horses.”
“We would be honored by your visit, Edward.”
“Oh, look.” Isabelle pointed to the fields where the men were cutting the grain with long, curved scythes and the women followed gathering, binding, and stacking the golden crop. “It’s harvest time. Autumn is such a lovely season. Listen, they are singing!” The queen moved to the rail for a better view and the people in the meadows stopped what they were doing to gaze at the royal barge. Suddenly, they realized that it was the Queen of England who was sailing down the Thames from Windsor to London and they began to wave and cheer.
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.