‘The French have always been after it,’ said Edward. ‘I’m afraid my brother Kent was not experienced enough to handle the situation.’

‘Poor Edmund, he did his best.’

‘His best was poor statecraft,’ said Edward.

She wanted to laugh. And you, my fine man, she thought, what of your

statecraft? Edmund’s ineptitude is nothing when compared with yours!

‘My brothers were always fond of me,’ she went on. ‘Edward, I believe that if I went to Charles I could put your case to him. I believe I could make him see reason. Perhaps I could bring my uncle to reconsider the treaty. It would please me to try.’

‘ You go? That would be useless. They would never listen to you.’

‘I was always treated with great respect in my father’s court,’ she said with pointed dignity. ‘I doubt I should receive anything less in my brother’s.’

Edward looked at her thoughtfully. She had managed to win the approval of

the Londoners. Hugh had been talking about that the other day. He had said she had always been careful never to do anything which might lose that respect.

‘It is a matter I should have to consider,’ he said.

Oh yes, she thought, ask Master Hugh whether he will allow your Queen tovisit her brother.

Her spirits dropped. She might have been able to delude Edward. Hugh le

Despenser was another matter. In spite of the fact that he allowed his acquisitive nature to bring him more and more unpopularity every week, he was shrewd. He could surely not have connected her with Mortimer’s escape. She had been very careful about Mortimer. She had not written to him at all. That would have been too dangerous even though she had her faithful friends whom she could trust to deliver important letters. She had been afraid of putting him in danger. No, Hugh le Despenser could not know of the relationship between her and

Mortimer.

There was nothing to be done but let Edward consult with his dear Hugh.

Meanwhile she must pray that she could get that permission to leave. It would be so much more satisfactory than attempting to escape, for they were not quite ready yet to come out into the open.

???????

Hugh considered the matter.

‘So she wishes to go to her brother?’

‘That is what she said. She would mediate for better relations between us.

This treaty my brother has made is disastrous for us.’

Hugh was silent and Edward went on, ‘She has proved herself in the past to have a certain grasp of affairs. I believe too that her brother is fond of her. He might listen to her.’

‘He is going to insist on your going out to do homage to him.’

‘I shall not go.’

‘It could mean trouble if you don’t.’

‘That’s why I thought it would be a good idea to let Isabella go and see what she can make of things. I am sure she is eager to impress us.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Hugh. ‘She has changed of late. She has become resigned.

There was a time when I thought there was a smouldering lioness inside her, waiting to strike. Now, she has changed.’

‘It was having the children. She dotes on young Edward you know.’

Hugh nodded. ‘Let her go then. I see no harm in it.’

‘She shall go,’ replied Edward.

When Isabella heard the news she could scarcely believe her good fortune.

She lost no time in setting out for France.

???????

She could scarcely restrain her exultation as she made her rapid

preparations. The scheming of years was coming to its climax. How clever she had been! How wise to act so discreetly through the years! Now she had her son, her little Edward? not so little, old enough to be crowned King, with hands to guide him? hers and Mortimer’s.

Oh gentle Mortimer, soon to be with him, to embrace him, to lie at his side, to make love, to make plans.

Nothing must go wrong now.

May was a beautiful month with the trees in bloom and the birds mad with

joy— a manifestation of her own feelings. This was the springtime of her life—

although she was twenty-nine years of age. It was a beginning, and twenty-nine was not old. A little mature perhaps but one needed maturity to plan

carefully. She was inclined to think that everything was set fair.

Her company consisted only of Lord John Cromwell and four knights, apart

from her personal attendants. The wind was with them and as she stepped onto French soil she could not restrain her expressions of joy. Lord John remarked that a love of one’s native land was something which never left one. And she allowed him to think that this was the reason for her exultation. If he but knew, her thoughts were in England? but not England as it was today ruled by an

effete King and his minion.

She was happy. Soon she would be with Mortimer.

It was sooner than she had dared hope, for he had heard of her arrival and came in haste to greet her.

He bowed low. He must not show undue familiarity before the company, but

in his eyes she saw all she wished to know.

‘My love,’ he whispered as he bowed before her. ‘So long it has seemed.’

‘At last I am here.’

Then he was saying that he had heard of her arrival and had come to escort her to her brother’s court in Paris.

Mortimer had arranged for them to stay the night at a chateau put at her

disposal by her cousin Robert d’Artois who had heard a great deal of her

humiliation at the hands of her husband and had been incensed that a daughter of the royal house of France should be so treated.

As they rode along Mortimer talked to her of his adventures since he had left England. He had found favour with her brother the King, which was perhaps not surprising for French Kings were always ready to favour the enemies of the Kings of England. He had told Charles a great deal about the influence Hugh le Despenser wielded over the King and naturally Charles, seeing clearly Edward’s folly, was not displeased about that.

‘I am happy to say,’ said Mortimer, ‘that the King your brother has shown

nothing but friendship towards me.’ He bent his head and whispered.

‘Tonight? It must be tonight.’

And she answered, ‘Tonight.’

When they arrived at the chateau her cousin was eager to give her a royal

welcome. He made it clear that he was very impressed by her beauty. She felt that she had come to life, recognized for what she had always known she was, a charming and desirable woman.

Lord John Cromwell was a little uneasy about what he called Mortimer’s

undue familiarity. ‘He was, my lady, the King’s prisoner,’ he explained to Isabella. ‘Now he is an exile. If he were to return to England he would lose his head.’

‘True enough, my lord,’ answered Isabella and appeared to reflect. ‘But it seems to me that I am on a difficult mission. I have to get good terms for my husband from my brother and if Mortimer speaks truth he is on friendly terms with Charles. I shall need all the friends I can get. It would not be wise to alienate Mortimer.’

Lord John agreed with this. ‘But I would not trust him too far if I were you, my lady, if you will forgive my mentioning the matter.’

‘You are forgiven, Lord John. I know that you are faithful to me and to the King.’

‘The Mortimers were always a wild family, my lady. They ruled the

Marcher land and it is in them to rule.’

‘I agree with you. Trust me, I shall be careful.’

How she laughed when that night she lay in Mortimer’s arms.

The reunion had been one of complete satisfaction. The fact that it had been planned with care gave it an added delight. They talked in whispers through the night for before dawn he must be gone. It would never do for any to guess at this point that she had come to France to join her lover.

‘I shall never go back without you,’ she told him.

‘When we go back it will be with an army. We shall succeed.’