She had never taken lovers so there could be no question of infidelity. She had always been a loving wife. It was incomprehensible.
The slight skin infection which had changed her colouring had now disappeared and her skin was as white and perfect as it had ever been. She had grown thin with anxiety, and her only comfort was in her children.
Her faithful attendants could not make up their minds whether it would be wise to tell her of the rumours about her relationship with the Duke or to let her remain in ignorance. But one of them, considering what was involved decided to tell her.
‘My lady, you must not let this happen.’
She wanted to know what.
They say that the Duke plans to divorce you and disinherit your sons. He will take a new wife and hope to get sons by her.’
‘This cannot be true. Why does he not tell me himself that he has ceased to love me?’
‘It does not seem that he has. It is said that what he must do he does sadly.’
‘Perhaps I should write to my brother. I do not understand. The Duke and I have never quarrelled. He seemed contented with our union. And my boys. You say they are to be disinherited?’
‘There have been a lot of rumours, my lady. You know how leprosy is dreaded.’
‘Leprosy!’
‘Yes, my lady. They were convinced that you were suffering from this disease. It began with change in the colour of the skin. The Duke wished to be separated from you before it had too big a hold and became contagious. They say too that a mother passes it on to her sons and for that reason the Duke wants a divorce and sons from a mother who can give him healthy ones to carry on the line.’
‘So that is what it is all about. Why wasn’t I told? Leprosy! Do I look leprous?’
‘Not now, my lady. Your skin is as fair and clear as it ever was.’
‘What I had was a mild disorder. I finally cleared it up with herbs and lotions. It has completely gone. I must ask the Duke to come and see me.’
The woman looked dubious but Eleanor was undeterred. She sent a message to the Duke but he would not receive it, so great was his fear of infection.
‘So,’ cried Eleanor, ‘I am to be discarded without a chance to show the truth.’
It seemed this was so.
She had no friends in Gueldres, only her attendants but at least through them she understood what was at the root of her troubles.
The Duke, her husband, had been a keen supporter of Edward’s claim to the throne of France but there were many nobles in Gueldres who inclined to the French. If they could rid the Duke of his English wife who was actually a sister of Edward, they could arrange a marriage with a bride put forward by the King of France and thus bring about what so many of them sought: to break the link with England and forge a new one with France.
It was imperative that she must stop this. How dared they insist that she suffered from leprosy! They had alarmed the Duke to such an extent that he had refused to see her. That did point to the fact that his love for her was not very strong. But she believed she could revive that if only she could see him.
She realized that if she appealed to Edward it could have the reverse effect of what she wanted. Now she alone must do what had to be done for the sake of her children, herself, and her brother.
She had heard that there was to be a meeting of the nobles in the palace the following week and accordingly she laid her plans.
On the day when the meeting was to take place she put on a light tunic which exposed most of her body; over this she wrapped a cloak and taking her two sons with her set out for the palace.
No one attempted to stop her so taken by surprise were they to see their Duchess and she went through to the council hall where the nobles were assembled. The Duke was seated on his throne-like chair and holding a child by each hand she went to him and throwing off her cloak and exposing much of her fair, delicate and perfect skin, she cried: ‘Oh, my lord, I have come to you to show you that the stories of my leprous condition are entirely false. If I were in that condition would it not be clear for all to see? Look at me, my lord. Look at me, you nobles, some of whom have spread these tales about me. I am whole and in good health. I insist that your doctors examine me. Here are your children, my lord. You cannot doubt that they are yours. They look like you. If you allow these calumnies to obscure the truth then, my lord, I will tell you this: you will regret our divorce and you will see the failure of your line.’
There was silence in the hall. All eyes were on the Duchess, who wearing nothing but her tunic, displayed an utter denial of the rumours of leprosy.
The Duke rose and going to her placed his hands on her shoulders. Then he picked up her cloak and wrapped it round her.
‘My lady,’ he said, ‘you are right that I have been listening to calumnies. I feared leprosy and what effect it would have on you and your sons. I dared not risk infection. But they were lies ... I do not wish for divorce. I thought it was my duty, for I must provide heirs.’
‘You have your heirs,’ she cried. ‘And here they are.’
‘It’s true. This meeting is over,’ he said addressing the company. ‘I will take my wife to our apartment.’
He then led her and her children out of the hall and as they mounted the stairs he told her how pleased he was that she was back, how he had deplored the need to divorce her which so many of his nobles had forced him to consider.
There were many questions that she might have asked but she did not wish to. It was good enough that the nightmare was over. She was back in the palace and the Duke could not do enough to show her how delighted he was that the trouble was over.
Now Eleanor could sit down and write to Philippa and tell her of the strange episode which had now ended happily.
Poor Eleanor, thought Philippa. And she chided herself for feeling that inner resentment because Edward had briefly preferred another woman.
Edward showed clearly that he did not wish to be separated from Philippa. He took great pains to display his devotion to her which she found very touching. She had never mentioned to him that she knew of his feelings for the Countess of Salisbury and he never spoke of that lady to her. Everywhere he went he wanted her beside him; and he always insisted that she was as magnificently attired as he was—and since he took very great delight in fine clothes they made a splendid pair indeed.
He decided that he would hold a great tournament at Windsor and to this would be invited all the champions of Europe. He hoped that among these would be included the French knights; and it amused him to contemplate King Philip’s chagrin in knowing that his greatest nobles were competing on an English field.
Edward, like his grandfather, had always felt a great interest in the legends of King Arthur and his knights, and he decided that for this occasion there should be a round table and that there the fairest ladies of the land, led by the Queen, should be seated with their knights whose object should be the exercise of chivalry.
Safe conducts were given for all knights no matter whence they came and this applied in particular to the French. They began to arrive from all over Europe.
This was going to be the most magnificent joust of all times. The Princesses Isabella and Joanna were to be present and there was great excitement in their apartments as they were fitted for the glittering garments they would wear. They were to be seated with the Queen in the ladies’ gallery and from there they would select the knights they most admired and perhaps one of them would wear a favour from one of them which would proclaim the lady whom he honoured.
Their father’s cousin Joan was with them. The fact that she was twelve years old—four years Isabella’s senior—gave her a certain authority and she seemed very knowledgeable to the two Princesses. There was an aura of romance about Joan. In the first place she was outstandingly pretty. Isabella had noticed with dismay that whenever Joan was present people looked at her, smiled at her, were ready to indulge her. That irritated Isabella for even her father had a fondness for the girl because she was so pretty.