The Follies of the King - Plaidy Jean - Страница 63
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We also entreat you, dearly beloved brother, that you would be
pleased to deliver up to us Edward our beloved eldest son, your
nephew? We pray you to suffer him to come to us with all speed for
we have often sent for him and we greatly wish to see him and speak
with him, and every day we long for his return?
Charles’s brow was wrinkled. The letter was genuine enough and although
he despised Edward as an incompetent ruler, he could not believe he was
capable of plotting the murder of his wife. Whereas he could believe of his sister that she was concerned in some mischief.
And whatever it was, he wanted no part in it. He felt weak in health, lacking in vitality; he doubted he would ever get a son and heir. The curse of the Templars sat heavily upon him and he was not going to look for trouble outside his realm.
Isabella would have to take her problems elsewhere.
By the same messenger there were letters for Isabella and young Edward.
Isabella, with Mortimer beside her, read hers aloud.
‘Lady, Oftentimes have we sent to you, both before and after the
homage, of our great desire to have you with us, and of our grief at
heart at your long absence; and as we understand that you do us
great mischief by this, we will that you come to us with all speed and without further excuses.
Before the homage was performed you made the advancement of
that business an excuse and now that we have sent by the honourable
father, the Bishop of Winchester, our safe conduct to you “you will
not come for fear and doubt of Hugh le Despenser” whereat we
cannot marvel too much?
And, Certes, lady, we know for truth, and so know you, that he
has always procured from us all the he could for you, nor to you have
either evil or villainy been done since you entered into our
comradeship? and we are much displeased, now the homage has
been made to our dearest brother, the King of France, and we have
much fair prospect of amity, that you, whom we have sent to make the
peace, should be the cause (which God forfend) of increasing the
breach between us by things which are feigned and contrary to the
truth. Wherefore we charge you as urgently as we can, that ceasing
from all pretences, delays and false excuses, you will come to us with all the haste you can. Our Bishop has reported to us that our brother, the King of France has told you in his presence “that, by the tenor of your safe conduct, you would not be delayed or molested in coming
to us as a wife should to her lord”? Also we require of you that our
dear son Edward return to us with all possible speed for we much
desire to see him and speak with him?
Isabella finished reading and looked in dismay at Mortimer, who said: ‘It is clear that he is becoming anxious.’
‘He will have written to my brother,’ replied Isabella. ‘My dear love, soon it will be impossible for us to remain in France.’
‘And it is equally impossible for you to return to England. We must gather together an army. We must be certain of a good reception when we do return to England. If only we had a few more months.’
‘My brother cannot force me to go.’
‘I fear he can. And he doubtless will if Edward continues to demand your
return.’
‘There must be a way,’ cried Isabella. ‘We have come so far we cannot
throw everything away now. Moreover in spite of Edward’s protestations, I
would not give much for my chances with the Despensers if I returned to
England.’
‘Let us not show panic. Let us see what is the effect of the letters Edward will have sent to your brother.’
‘There is something else,’ cried Isabella. ‘He will have written to my son.’
There was silence. ‘I must go to Edward and see what his father has written.
The boy is asking direct questions.’
‘He will not wish to leave you,’ Mortimer assured her. ‘You have cast a
spell over him as you have over us all.’
‘It is true that he loves me well, but he is clever. He thinks often of when he will be King.’
‘There is no harm in that. The sooner he is, the better.’
‘Still, Stapledon instilled some filial feeling in him. A curse on that man!
These letters are the direct result of his escape and reporting to the King.’
‘It is done. Let us go on from where we now stand.’
‘You are right, my love. I will go at once to young Edward.’
The young Prince was at that moment reading the letter from his father.
Very dear son,
As you are young and of tender age, we remind you of that which
we charged and commanded you at your departure from Dover and
you answered then, as we know with good will “that you will not
trespass or disobey any of our injunctions in any point for any one.”
And since that your homage has been received by our dearest brother, the King of France, your uncle, be pleased to take your
leave of him and return to us with all speed in company with your
mother, if so be that she will come quickly and if she will not come,
then come you without further delay, for we have great desire to see
you and to speak with you; therefore stay not for your mother, not for anyone else on our blessing?
Of course they must return to England, thought Edward. He wondered why
his mother waived the matter every time he suggested it. It had been pleasant at the Court of France but he was looking forward to returning home. He would speak to his mother at the earliest possible moment.
He did not have to wait long. As he was putting the letter into a drawer his mother came into the room.
‘Oh Edward, dear son,’ she cried embracing him, ‘did you enjoy the hunt? I hear you brought in a fine buck.’
‘I don’t think I ever saw a finer,’ replied Edward enthusiastically. ‘My lady, I have heard from my father.’
‘So have I.’
She waited and Edward said: ‘He is impatient for my return. He wants us to leave as soon as we possibly can.’
She went to him and slipped her arm through his.
‘Edward, my dearest,’ she said, ‘I have begun to rely on you. I look upon
you as my protector. You wouldn’t allow any harm to come to me, would you?’
Edward flushed. ‘I would protect you with my life.’
‘Oh my darling child, what should I have done without you? Mine has not
been a happy life you know. Your father and I?’
Edward frowned. He hated to be disloyal to his father. Walter Stapledon had impressed on him that the King was supreme and must always be obeyed. But at the same time he had been taught to protect the weak; and he had sensed that of late he had become very important to his mother and he knew that she spoke the truth when she said she relied on him to be beside her. When he came into a room her eyes sought his at once. An understanding always passed between
them. She was saying to him, he fancied, that she felt safe now he was there.
And he replied to her that he would always be at her side if she needed him.
‘This is not easy for me to say, dear Edward. May I proceed?’
‘You must do as you wish, my lady.’
‘You will understand I hope and not think badly of me.’
‘I could never think badly of my beloved mother,’ answered the boy.
‘Then I will speak? but with reluctance. You know there is much
discontent in our country.’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Your grandfather, whom you so strongly resemble, knew how to keep the
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