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.
It was decided that Windsor was the best place for her to live. Apartments were prepared for her and these were so sumptuous that those about the little Queen declared they had never seen such magnificence. It was on the King’s orders. His great pleasure was in delighting his little Queen.
He could not be with her all the time of course, but he was a constant visitor to the castle and when she heard his approach she would fly down to the great hall and fling herself into his arms. He was her beautiful King, and she was his pet, his darling. She would hurry him to the stables that she might show him her new horse – a gift from him of course. He must watch her ride, so they must go into the forest together. He must tell her stories of the forest, of Herne the Hunter who had hanged himself on one of the oaks because he had committed some sin and feared he would be condemned to die. She listened intently, she loved the stories, the more gruesome the better. She said she would like to come face to face with the Hunter.
‘Never say that, little one,’ cried Richard. ‘It would mean that you were to die.’
And how pleasant it was to see his deep concern at the thought of losing her!
She was as avid as ever at listening. Once she said to him: ‘Do you wish I were older so that I could be a real wife to you?’