‘Nay, my lord, it is for the world to do that.’
‘You are an insolent woman,’ he cried.
She knew that she was looking straight into the face of death but she shrugged her shoulders almost nonchalantly.
‘I have said that which has offended you,’ she said, ‘and I care not because I know it to be the truth. If it is not so, where is Arthur of Brittany?’
‘You have not come here to question me. Remember you are my prisoner. You stand there with your son. Your husband has deserted you.’
‘Nay,’ she said, ‘we have been parted through evil circumstances. He is not the man to desert his wife.’
‘You contradict me at every turn.’
‘I have told you that I shall speak the truth.’
‘Very brave, very brave. Save your bravery, my lady. You are going to need it.’
‘I know that well. I have spoken outright what has been in people’s minds these many years – in fact ever since the night when Arthur disappeared from the castle of Rouen. You cannot keep your sin a secret for ever, my lord.’
John began to shout. ‘Guards. Guards. Take this man and woman. Put them in one of the dungeons. I shall decide then what shall be done with them.’
The guards came in. Matilda went out, still holding her head high, and her eyes flashed scorn at the King and although she did not speak, her lips formed the word Murderer.
How could he punish them? When he thought of that woman his rage was almost out of control. He had to be careful though. William de Braose was still free. What could he do if he maimed his wife – put out her eyes or more appropriately cut out her tongue? The spectre of Arthur seemed very real at that moment. Was he never going to forget Arthur? The barons were growing more and more rebellious. Caution, whispered his good sense.
Of one thing he was certain. Matilda de Braose should never leave Windsor.
‘Take these two to a dungeon,’ he said. ‘See that they are fettered. Let them be kept in the same dungeon.’
He smiled to himself. There they could watch each other’s misery which would be an added torment.
His wishes were immediately carried out.
Each day he wondered how they fared. How could they be living in that cell from which there was no escape? They had no food and even the valiant Matilda could not live for ever without sustenance.
He thought of her with pleasure every morning when he awoke and sat at table. Succulent flesh, rich pastry – he took great delight in them, more especially because he knew that proud Matilda and her son were starving.
After two weeks he sent his guards down to the dungeon to see what had happened. They were both dead. The son had died first and in her agony the mother had gnawed at his flesh in the very extremities of starvation.
John laughed aloud when he heard.
So died proud Matilda! That would be a lesson to any who thought they could accuse him of his nephew’s murder.
But it proved otherwise and after the death of Matilda de Braose the whispering started up as fresh as it had been at the time of Arthur’s death.
Chapter XIV
THE VIRGIN OF DUNMOW
In the castle of Gloucester, Isabella was delivered of her third child. This time it was a girl and she was christened Joanna. Having borne three children in the space of three years Isabella felt that she could give herself a rest from childbirth. She loved her children but her nature made her more interested in the sexual side of marriage than the maternal.
She was growing more and more disenchanted with John. She could still attract him in a way, although naturally the tremendous appeal she had had for him had slackened a little. He liked to add different flavours to his activities and as he grew older his desires did not diminish.
It was always a daring adventure for a queen to take lovers because of the possibility of children. Royal children should be those of the King, for illegitimate offspring could cause endless trouble. Isabella was royal enough to be aware of this. But having presented John with three children she felt she had earned a little respite and there were one or two personable men on whom she had cast speculative eyes.
Her inborn fascination for the opposite sex had to be great indeed for them to dare risk the dangers which discovery would mean. As gentlemen of the Court they would have experienced from time to time the mad wrath of the King and although he might think it perfectly natural for him to take a mistress wherever he fancied, he would certainly not offer the same liberty to his Queen.
Therefore to one of Isabella’s character the thought of infidelity was irresistible. John was absent a great deal and opportunities offered themselves.
There were one or two men who were ready to take the risk, Isabella discovered, when she looked about the Court for likely partners with whom she could spend her nights. They did not have to be of high birth; their only qualifications were their sexual prowess and their courage.
There were not a great number who had both; but she did find the occasional man who was prepared to risk everything for her favours.
Life was spiced with exciting adventure for Isabella.
John was becoming a little suspicious of Isabella. There was something sly about her. When they met they were as amorous as ever and no matter what women he encountered none of them could really compare with Isabella. He had set spies on his wife where she would least expect to find them but still nothing had come to light about the lovers he suspected her of taking.
Sometimes he would laugh to himself to think of her with them but at others the thought would send him into a mad rage. It would depend a great deal on his mood of the moment, though he knew of course that if he ever had actual proof of her infidelity he would be furious.
Meanwhile, he sought ladies to amuse him. Sometimes they were willing – in fact they almost always were – out of fear of his temper or obsession with the honour of being noticed by the King. But it was the reluctant ones who were beginning to attract him more and more.
When he came to Dunmow Castle to be entertained by one of his leading barons, Robert FitzWalter, the baronial lord of Dunmow and Baynard’s Castle, he met Robert’s daughter Matilda. That the girl was a virgin was obvious from one glimpse of her, for she was very young and her mother had guarded her well. Moreover, she was the prettiest creature he had seen for a long time and just the sort to soothe those nagging doubts about Isabella’s fidelity which beset him from time to time.
Robert FitzWalter was one of the most important of the barons and his possession of Baynard’s Castle carried with it the hereditary office of standard bearer to the City of London which meant of course that he was regarded highly by the citizens. He was a great merchant and owned several ships; he was also engaged in the wine trade and because of his importance as a baron the King had granted him several privileges which were useful to him in his business.
And now having seen he had this fair daughter, John was prepared to honour Robert FitzWalter even more.
As they rode together in the hunt in the forest of Dunmow John brought his horse close to that of Robert FitzWalter and said: ‘By God’s eyes, Walter, you have a fair daughter.’
Those words accompanied by the leer on John’s face were enough to make any father anxious.
‘My lord, Matilda is but a child.’
‘A fair one, forsooth.’
‘Yes, her mother has brought her up very carefully.’
John licked his lips. He had a great fancy at this time for virgins. ‘So I see, and it does her credit. Your lady wife will be pleased to hear that the King admires her.’
Robert FitzWalter did not answer, knowing full well that that was the last thing his lady wife wished to hear. Lady FitzWalter was a woman of strong character and stern morals who had brought up her daughter firmly in the light of her own beliefs.