‘You are a foolish girl,’ said the King.

Isabella put her arms about his neck. ‘But you love me just the same. In spite of my folly. Oh, you do, don’t you, because if you don’t I shall ... die.’

‘What shall we do with this daughter of ours?’ asked the King.

‘I think on this occasion you will give her what she asks,’ replied the Queen.

‘Well,’ said the King, ‘if I say that the Constable shall go free will that please you?’

Isabella kissed him fervently. ‘You are the best father in the world and I love you dearly.’

‘But,’ said the King, ‘not today. He shall fret and sweat in his terror all through the night.’

‘But in the morning he shall be free,’ cried Isabella. ‘Oh, you dear good King. And we shall all be together for Christmas shall we not? I have planned such games.’

Philippa noticed that the King’s ill humour had completely disappeared.

‘Let us join Edward and Joanna,’ she said, ‘and hear all about these plans.’

Thus the Constable of the Tower resumed his duties and marvelled at the leniency of the King while he vowed that never would he be so foolish again and would serve Edward and his family with his life if need be.

THE KING FALLS IN LOVE

THAT there was change in the air was apparent throughout Château Gaillard where the King and Queen of Scotland lived as guests of the King of France.

The most unhappy person in that castle of Normandy was the Queen—Joanna, sister of Edward King of England. She had always been disturbed by the conflict between her husband and her brother and now that Edward was engaged in a struggle with the King of France it grieved her that David should side with her brother’s enemy and had even gone into battle with the French against the English.

She had heard the sad story of her namesake’s adventures in Austria. Poor child, she could understand and sympathize with her for being taken from her country at a tender age. Had it not happened to her? Perhaps people with the name Joanna were unfortunate. She could almost make herself believe that the name itself brought bad luck.

She certainly had had very little good luck.

She hoped her sister Eleanor was happier with the Earl of Gueldres than she was as the guest of the King of France.

She was almost nineteen years old now and David was sixteen, not too young to have had love affairs with some of the women in the castle. They had never really liked each other although she had tried to make a show of affection for him. He was a petulant boy and arrogant. He was constantly reminding people that he was a king, as though, because he was an exile from his country, they might forget it.

Being the son of the greatest King Scotland had ever known was a handicap. People constantly compared him with his father and naturally he must suffer in comparison. David was aware of it and it bothered him; he liked to taunt Joanna with remarks about her own father who was as different from Robert the Bruce as a man could be. Poor Father, who had died mysteriously and she feared ignobly in Berkeley Castle.

But that King’s son and her brother now reigned and he was a source of great irritation to David. Sometimes she fancied he flaunted his infidelity more before her because she was the sister of Edward of England.

It was as though he said. I shall do as I please. What care I for your noble brother about whom men are now beginning to talk as they did about your grandfather.

David enjoyed the life at Château Gaillard. There was dancing and jesting, plays and feasting. The King of France had said: You must look upon me as your friend and France as your home.’

And David had done so; not so Joanna. She could never forget that their host was the enemy of her brother and she was ashamed of accepting his hospitality.

Visitors from afar had come to the castle. The news they brought was exciting. The Scots had naturally taken advantage of Edward’s absence in France. They had risen and there had been none to stop them, certainly not the token force Edward had left with them. They had ousted Baliol who was no more than Edward’s tool. He had quickly left Scotland and had sought a refuge in England.

An embassy arrived at the Château Gaillard, led by Simon Fraser who had been David’s tutor and in whom he had had great confidence.

That was an exciting day at the château for Simon laid before the exiled King plans for his return to Scotland. For the last year or so the Scots had been scoring victory after victory over the English. The absence of Edward in France had been a boon to them, and he had to admit that they had enjoyed a great deal of help from the King of France who was pleased that the English should be harried on the Scottish Border so diverting them from their activities in France. Now the Bruce party had succeeded in ridding themselves of Edward’s puppet Baliol and therefore it was time David returned to take up his rightful place in the kingdom.

David was excited at the prospect. Life at Château Gaillard had been pleasant enough, but he was a king and wanted to rule his country. He could not forget that, even though the King of France had treated him as a visiting King, he was still dependent on his bounty.

‘When can I leave for Scotland?’ he asked Simon Fraser. Simon replied that he thought it would be advisable to visit the Court of France, make the King aware of his subjects’ request for him to return and ask his help in doing so.

It would be readily given, they were both sure.

And so it proved to be.

Smarting from the defeat at Helvoetsluys, Philip was only too pleased to add to Edward’s troubles; and he knew that the greatest of these would be a war in Scotland which must necessarily keep him out of France.

‘It is good news that they have driven out that traitor Baliol and Scotland is no longer England’s vassal,’ cried Philip. ‘You must keep it so, my lord. David the Bruce is the King of Scotland and not Edward Plantagenet.’

‘I want to go back and regain my kingdom. Then I will protect it from the English.’

‘That is as it should be,’ said the King of France. ‘Now, as you know, I lost many of my ships in conflict with Edward. He will know that you are proposing to leave for Scotland and what your arrival there will mean to him. He will use all his power and cunning to capture you before you arrive. We must be careful or you and your Queen will find you have left happy Gaillard for a less pleasant castle in England. You have been my honoured guests. You would be Edward’s prisoners. Leave this to me.’

David returned to Gaillard and the King of France gave orders that strong ships should be built to escort him back to Scotland. The shipwrights of Harfleur were working day and night; in fact all over France men were working on the ships and all the accoutrements necessary to convey a monarch home.

It was very flattering but David was to learn that the wily Philip was not expending all this time and money on him. The ships were in fact replacements for those lost in the battle of Helvoetsluys. Philip sent a secret message to Gaillard to the effect that David and the Queen were to make for the coast obstensibly to inspect the ships which were being made. They should pretend to begin to journey back to Gaillard and instead make for a quiet spot on the coast. Here they would find two humble vessels waiting for them. They should embark on these and sail for Scotland.

The English would be quite unaware that they had left France until they were safe in Scotland.

David was a little annoyed to realize that all the grand preparations were not for him. He would have liked to sail home surrounded by the might of the French navy. The English would then have determined to intercept. He was vain and arrogant but he was not a coward and he would have looked forward to such an encounter.

Joanna saw the wisdom of what the French King had arranged, and on the first day of June they set sail.

Their journey was uneventful and they arrived on the second day of June at Inverbervie, a small harbour in Kincardineshire.

Although their landing was scarcely noticed, when the Scots heard that David the Bruce, their rightful King, had come back to Scotland, they went wild with joy.

Now they would turn the English out of their country for ever.


* * *

David and his Queen were brought in triumph to Edinburgh. He found that the weakness of Baliol and his subservience to England had aroused the spirit of those men who longed to see a return of the strong rule of Robert the Bruce. There was a handful of men who were great fighters and had to a large extent the quality of leadership; these were rallying round the young King. There was Sir William Douglas, the Knight of Liddesdale, Robert the Steward, Murray of Bothwell and Randolph; and the determination of all these men was to rid Scotland of English domination. The fact that Edward had determined to make a bid for the crown of France had inspired them with greater hope than they had known since the death of Robert the Bruce.

The help they had received from France had been an inspiration. They were grateful to Philip for the hospitality he had shown to their king although they were of course aware of the reason for this.

They were stirring days in Scotland which followed the return of the King.

It might have been that they were a little disturbed to note his Frenchified manners. He loved fine clothes—such as were never seen in Scotland. His manners were French; he had developed a love of luxury and young as he was indulged with a freedom and abandon in his light affairs which was, they believed, a reflection of French customs. They were sorry for the young Queen, but she was after all English and the sister of King Edward, and no doubt she had other matters with which to concern herself than her husband’s infidelities.

Success followed success, castle after castle was recaptured in the name of the King and David was complacent, and as he had not yet been called upon to take part in any really serious battles his lack of judgement was not obvious.

He was surrounded by strong men and there seemed little doubt that victory was in the air.

It was hardly likely that Edward would allow matters to go on in this way.


* * *

Edward and Philippa determined that that Christmas should be a memorable one.

‘We have promised it to the children,’ said Edward. ‘Isabella was insistent that we all spend it together.’

‘And,’ added Philippa, ‘last Christmas poor little Joanna was in Austria.’

‘Well, there shall certainly be revelry this Christmas, otherwise I shall be in trouble with our daughter.’

‘Not too much indulgence, Edward, I beg of you.’

‘Oh, they are young yet. Let them be happy while they can. It will be necessary to arrange marriages for them soon. That is something I cannot relish.’

The plans began to be carried out and there was a great deal of excitement in the Princesses’ apartments. Joanna was embroidering gifts for her family—a pastime in which she delighted and she knew that her parents appreciated what she did. There were purses for them both decorated with dragons and birds, worked with exquisitely coloured silks. Isabella was not inclined to do such work; she sent her treasurer to buy gifts for her parents. They revelled in their new gowns—scarlet and purple scattered with pearls. They would wear their hair hanging down their backs because that was how their father liked it. They had surcoats of fine cloth of gold with patterns of birds and beasts on them; and beneath these they would wear a close-fitting gown of very fine material. Isabella loved to try on her gowns and indeed she had a great admiration for herself. As for Joanna she was so happy to be home that she was ready to laugh at everything—even Isabel- la’s vanity and her determination to have the best whenever there should happen to be a choice.

Never mind. This was Christmas in the palace of the Tower and a rare occasion because for once the entire family were all altogether.

Philippa was contented to be with her children and she was expecting another in June. She had a fine family and she was proud of it. One of the joys of her life had been her ability to give Edward these children whom he so dearly loved.

Perhaps some women would have been jealous of his devotion to them. Not Philippa. She rejoiced in it.

So it was indeed a happy Christmas. Edward had summoned the most talented of his minstrels, a man named Godenal who was famous throughout the Court for his music, his singing, his mimicry and his ability to amuse.