Read Passage to Pontefract Online

Authors: Jean Plaidy

Passage to Pontefract (45 page)

BOOK: Passage to Pontefract
10.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Here they were gathered together. Lancaster had arrived with his new Duchess, a very beautiful woman – no longer young, but then nor was Lancaster – and she was one who would remain beautiful until she died.

Richard had met her before and had liked her from the first. It was ridiculous for people to compare her with Alice Perrers – that harpy who had tarnished his grandfather’s reputation in the last years of his life. Catherine Swynford was discreet, well mannered, all that he would ask from a lady of his Court; and he trusted she would be a good influence on Lancaster, which he was sure she would.

Catherine herself was feeling a little disturbed. It was the first great occasion which she had attended as the Duchess of Lancaster, for although John had often taken her with him to ceremonies, they had never before been such as this.

The King received her courteously and told her that it pleased him that she should be a member of the party. He told her about his little bride and how he wanted the ladies of the Court to be especially gentle with her.

‘She is only a child,’ he said. ‘But, I hear, very self-possessed. I want her to like us and our English ways.’

‘My lord, I shall be delighted to do what I can to make her feel at home. I know something of children. I have several of my own and I was in charge of the Duke’s children when they were young.’

‘I know it,’ said the King. ‘And I know this too. They love you well. We will talk more of this later.’

Richard had rarely seen his uncle John so pleased with him. It was, of course, because of the way he had received his wife.

John was watchful, Richard noticed with amusement. It would go ill with any who attempted to slight his Duchess.

The Duchess of Gloucester and the Countess of Arundel came to pay their respects to the King.

He disliked both of them. The Duchess of Gloucester, Eleanor Bohun, was not a very attractive woman, most unlike her sister, whom John had married to his son Bolingbroke. Poor girl, she had died about the same time as Anne had. Worn out with childbearing they said – and only in her twenties. None could say that of his beloved Anne. It was a pity though that they had not had even one child.

Richard had seen Eleanor Bohun’s eyes on him when he was chatting with the Duchess of Lancaster. She had been disapproving. There was nothing Richard disliked more than people disapproving of him. He had had enough of that already to last him a lifetime.

And there was the Countess of Arundel – another disagreeable woman and one whom he disliked heartily. For one thing she should never have married Arundel without his consent. And she gave herself too many airs and graces because she was descended from his uncle Lionel.

He was cool to them both.

They turned away. A pity they had to come with the party, thought Richard. But of course he could not tell two of the most important men in the country that he would prefer not to receive their wives.

Richard noticed it happen and he was not the only one. The Duchess of Gloucester and the Countess of Arundel were standing close to the Duchess of Lancaster, and Catherine had turned to them. Some words were spoken, but the two women looked right past her.

The Countess of Arundel said in a very loud voice which could be heard distinctly: ‘Is it not strange – the people who come to Court in these times. I have always maintained that harlots should be kept in their own quarters.’

The Duchess of Lancaster had turned and was speaking to someone else as though she had either not heard the words or could not imagine that they applied to her.

The Duke, who had heard, went swiftly to her side. There was a moment when all watching thought some trouble might break out.

If it had been Gloucester instead of Lancaster there could have been violence; but John of Gaunt had always been one to think before he acted.

He could not in any case challenge the two women to a duel.

He put his arm through that of his Duchess. Like her he was pretending that what had been said did not concern them; and at the same time he was showing all that this lady was his Duchess and he was going to see that she was treated as such.

Richard watching thought: Lancaster will not forget this. Both Gloucester and Arundel should beware.

The royal party crossed to Calais.

Gloucester was fuming. He scarcely listened to his wife’s complaints about the presence of the Duchess of Lancaster.

He had wanted his daughter to be the Queen of England.

He was making a great deal of trouble, for in his usual overbearing bullying manner he did not hesitate to make his opinions known.

Peace with France! France was a rich country. There was much treasure there. They had a right to it. They were going to give all that away, were they? For what reason? So that they could bring a little girl to England who was too young to be a wife to the King. It was all such nonsense and he for one was against it.

Richard was afraid that his uncle would offend the French and to quieten him he said that if he would keep the peace he should have fifty thousand nobles when he returned home and his son Humphrey should be created Earl of Rochester. This offer was so wildly generous that Gloucester was first amazed and then placated and ceased to make trouble.

Meanwhile there was a distinct coolness between Lancaster and Gloucester and Arundel. Lancaster saw that his wife was treated with respect by all others; and although some of them would have liked to show their disapproval they dared not.

The time had arrived when Richard was to come face to face with Charles of France. The enemies were to become friends and tents had been set up in a field outside Calais as the scene of their ceremonial meeting.

Four hundred English knights and as many French, all in glittering armour, stood with their swords drawn making two ranks through which the Kings with their attendants should pass. On either side of Richard were his uncles Lancaster and Gloucester and on either side of the King of France were the Dukes of Berri and Burgundy, the uncles of the French King.

Richard felt a glimmer of amusement which he could have shared with Anne or with Robert de Vere had they been with him. For it was ironical that both the Kings of France and England, coming to the throne when they were very young, should both have been plagued by uncles.

There was a shout of jubilation from the assembled knights as the two Kings with bared heads met and embraced.

Then the King of France took Richard by the hand and the two French Dukes took the two English ones also by the hand and they entered the tent of the French King.

Inside the tent the Dukes of Orleans and Bourbon were waiting to receive the party. They fell to their knees and remained there until bidden to rise by the Kings. Wines and comfits were served by the Dukes who knelt as they proffered the boxes and goblets to their Kings.

After this the whole company assembled for dinner, the two Kings seated at the high table alone with the rest of the company below them.

The King of France declared his pleasure in the alliance and said he was only sorry that the bride was not older.

‘My good father-in-law,’ replied Richard, ‘the age of our wife pleases us right well. We pay not great attention respecting age as we value your love, for we shall now be strongly united and no one in Christendom can in any way harm us now.’

The King of France expressed his gratification at what had been brought about; and then the moment had come for the little bride to appear.

She came into the tent accompanied by a company of highly born French ladies among whom was the Lady de Couci.

Richard looked with delight at his little bride. She was all that had been said of her. She was dainty, beautiful, bright-eyed and she charmed him completely. He could not hide his pleasure in her. Her father had gone to her and taken her by the hand.

He led her to Richard who in turn took her hand and kissed it. They smiled at each other and it was clear that she liked him as much as he liked her.

The ceremony of handing over the bride being completed there was no reason for delay.

A magnificent litter had been prepared to carry the little Queen to Calais; and she left behind all her attendants with the exception of the Lady de Couci and attended by the Duchesses of Lancaster and Gloucester she prepared to make her journey into the town of Calais.

A few days later the marriage was celebrated in the Church of St Nicholas, the Archbishop of Canterbury having come to Calais to officiate.

Isabelle was delighted. She had noticed that they had changed her name slightly giving her the English version Isabella. That amused her. Everyone was delighted with her, and she thought Richard the most wonderful husband a girl could have. His hair glistened like gold and he looked so beautiful in his crown. When he spoke to her his voice was soft and gentle and he was always smiling as though he thought her very amusing and he showed in a hundred ways that he was delighted to have her as his bride. She was already fond of the Lady de Couci and she had taken a great fancy to the Duchess of Lancaster. She liked beautiful people. She disliked the Duchess of Gloucester who was ugly and she did not like the Countess of Arundel. She sensed that they were trying to be unkind to the Duchess of Lancaster and without knowing what they could have quarrelled about – for she was sure they had quarrelled – she was on the side of the Duchess of Lancaster.

It was all very exciting. The marriage, the celebrations, the meeting once more with the King and Queen of France at St Omer before boarding the ship and crossing the Channel to her new country.

She stood on deck with Richard beside her and he pointed out to her the white cliffs of Dover.

‘There is the castle,’ he said. ‘Mine and yours now.’

He said she was a brave girl. She had shed no tears for her old home. Why was that?

She answered promptly: ‘Because I am going to like my new one better.’

He laughed. ‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘I thought I should have to comfort a homesick little girl. But not my Isabella.’

She put her hand in his. ‘This will be my home,’ she said; and there was a deep satisfaction in her voice for she believed that they were going to indulge her in her new country even more than they had in her old.

She was enchanted by Dover Castle; and the next day they went on to Rochester. In a short time they reached the palace of Eltham and there the nobles who had come to France said farewell and went their own ways.

She took the hand of the Duchess of Lancaster and said: ‘I shall see you again.’

‘I am sure of it,’ answered the Duchess.

‘It will be soon,’ replied the little Queen. She spoke with assurance. She knew she only had to make her wishes known to her adoring husband and they would be granted.

How she enjoyed riding into London where the people came out to marvel at her. ‘The dearest little queen that ever was!’ ‘Why she is but a baby.’ ‘What a little beauty!’

She smiled at them and enchanted them and afterwards she and Richard were alone together. He liked to look at the clothes she had brought with her. He was delighted by their richness and so was she. There was a beautiful robe and a mantle to go with it. It was of red velvet embossed with golden birds perched on branches of emeralds and diamonds. The robe was trimmed with miniver and the mantle lined with ermine.

‘I never saw such elegance!’ cried the King.

He showed her one of his surcoats which glittered so much that it dazzled her.

She clapped her hands with joy at the sight of it. ‘I never saw jewels sparkle so!’ she cried.

‘Ah, but it lacks the elegance of your robe and mantle, Isabella. You French have a style which we lack.’ He held up another of her robes which was of murray-mezereon and pearl roses. ‘Enchanting,’ he cried.

Then he took her hand and danced with her round the chamber.

‘My little Queen, I am going to have the greatest pleasure in choosing the most beautiful clothes for you to delight us in.’

She laughed with him.

She was so happy. She was sorry for everyone who was not the Queen of England – and that was everyone else in the world, she reminded herself.

BOOK: Passage to Pontefract
10.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Liverpool Annie by Maureen Lee
Never Mind the Bullocks by Vanessa Able
Empty Ever After by Reed Farrel Coleman
The Golden One by Elizabeth Peters
Suicide Note by Teresa Mummert
All the Blue of Heaven by Virginia Carmichael