Lancaster was not the man she needed and it would seem that the time was not yet ripe. But she must remain watchful. She sat stitching one of her women said to another: ‘It is such a silly story. I am sure no one believed it.’
Isabella roused herself and wanted to know what this story The woman was confused. ‘I scarcely like to say, my lady. It was clearly a madman―’
‘Nevertheless I wish to hear.’
‘My lady, it is so very foolish―’
‘I have said I wish to hear,’ retorted the Queen coldly.
Her women were afraid of Isabella. She had never been severe with them and yet they were aware of a certain ruthlessness in her. They had often admitted to each other that they would not care to displease the Queen. And they would shiver and then wonder why they felt this fear of her so strongly Now the woman said quickly: ‘Just a bit of gossip, my lady. They were talking to the King― it was nonsense.’
A faint colour showed itself under the Queen’s skin; her eyes glittered and the woman hurried on: ‘They said― on forgive me, my lady― it must have been the words of a madman― they said that the king was a changeling― not the true son of Great Edward. They said that one of his nurses dropped the Prince when he was a baby. He was killed and this maid being so terrified put another baby in his place.’
The Queen burst into loud laughter in which her women joined, relieved.
‘A ridiculous tale indeed! You are right to think so.’ She smiled at the woman who had told the story. ‘Did you ever see one who more resembled his father than the King?’
‘No, my lady, never.’
‘I have heard it said that he is the image of what the old King was at his age.’
‘It is certainly so, my lady.’
‘That nurse was very clever, was she not― to find a baby who looked so like the King?’
They laughed and, chattering, recalled other absurd bits of gossip they had heard from time to time.
But the Queen did not treat the matter as light-heartedly as she pretended to do. It was true it was a ridiculous story, but the fact that it had been invented in the first place and been passed round was an indication of how people’s minds were working.
They were growing disillusioned with the King. There must be an idea— faint as yet— to dispossess him; which was why the notion that he was a changeling would be allowed to flourish.
The people no longer admired him. They wanted a King like the first Edward, a strong ruler, victorious in battle, one at the mention of whose name the enemy quailed. Robert the Bruce had never been greatly in awe of Edward the Second. What had he said? ‘I am more afraid of the spirit of Edward the First than the armies of Edward the Second. It was more difficult to get a square inch of land from the First Edward than it would be a kingdom from the Second.’
Oh yes, they were beginning to despise the King. So the changeling story was welcomed.
That night she went to Edward’s chamber and talked to him of the funeral of Piers Gaveston. She wanted to hear how impressive it was and how magnificently Walter Reynolds had presided.
How she despised him as she listened! What a fool he was! At this time when the people were suffering from the disasters of the harvest how could he spend so much money on the burial of the man whom the people had hated more than any other!
Did he not see how precarious his position was? Had he forgotten what had happened to his grandfather King Henry III and his great grandfather King John?
Edward was a fool― a weak fool.
She stroked his hair. She must have children. What would her position be without children? She had her stalwart young Edward but he was not enough.
Children were so delicate― particularly it seemed were boys. Her powerful father was dead— the victim, they said, of the curse of Jacques de Molai. She could look for little help from her family. Her brother Louis, called le Hutin because he quarrelled with everyone, was ailing. It was being said throughout France that none of the sons of Philip the Fair could prosper because of what their father had done to the Templars. Isabella shivered to contemplate what that awful scene must have been like with the Grand Master calling his curse on the royal house of France as the flames consumed him. His Queen was with child and there were fears that the curse might prevent her producing a healthy male child which was so urgently needed.
No, there was no hope of help from Louis.
Isabella must stand on her own, and now she knew that Lancaster was a weak man, she would have to look for other support if ever she was going to save herself from the humiliation the King had made her suffer.
But she would never forget.
In the meantime the more children she had the higher her hopes. Desperately she needed a son.
That was why she made herself charming to Edward, and he, obtuse as he was, believed her attitude towards him meant that she cared for him.
The Queen was pregnant and, though the King was pleased with this, and when the Queen rode out through London the people cheered her, their resentment against him was growing.
It was the old trouble— King against barons, and there was always the danger that this would break out into civil war. Only a strong King could keep the barons at bay and Edward was scarcely that.
What had angered him most about Lancaster’s high-handed manner was the fact that he had succeeded in robbing him of his friends. The departure he most regretted was that of Hugh le Despenser. Despenser, a man of more than fifty years, had served Edward the First well and he had been ready to the same for his son. At Edward’s coronation he had carried part of the royal insignia and from that time had shown himself to be the King’s man.
When the barons had stood against dear Perrot, Hugh le Despenser had been the only one of them who had given him his support. That was something Edward would always remember.
Of course a great many cruel things had been said against him at the time.
They said he was avaricious and that he thought by currying favour of the King and his favourites he would be well rewarded. They were strong, those barons, and they dismissed him from the council.
But there was something very resilient about Hugh. It was not long before he was back. The King was delighted to see him and presented him with the castles of Marlborough and Devizes. When Gaveston was murdered it was Hugh who was beside the King, trying to offer that comfort which no one could really give. Hugh understood perfectly and the King was fond of him.
They used to talk a great deal together. Hugh hated Lancaster.
‘Forgive my anger, my lord,’ said Hugh, ‘for I speak of your cousin, but I would I might challenge him to combat. With what joy would I run my sword through that arrogant body.’
‘Ah, Hugh,’ replied the King, ‘you are a true friend to me. And God knows, I have little left to me. When Perrot was alive―’
Then he would tell Hugh about the wonderful life they had had together and the King found he could laugh again over the wit of Piers Gaveston with someone who could understand it.
Then Bannockburn where Hugh had been with the army in the débâcle and afterwards, when Lancaster was saying who and who should not serve him, Hugh was one of those who were dismissed.