Free The Follies of the King by Jean Plaidy

cliffs. She glimpsed the castle high on the hill, that almost impregnable fortress which she had heard called the key to England.
    Her eyes shining with happiness she grasped Edward and told him that she knew that the happiest time of her life lay ahead of her.
    He kissed her hand and murmured that it was going to be his joy to make her so. She did not know how lightly he spoke and that the excitement in his eyes was not there because he was bringing home his bride but because soon he would see Gaveston.
    There were crowds waiting to greet them. Isabella could see the banners as they came in; she heard the shouts of the people. This was indeed a royal welcome.
    Edward took her hand as they went ashore. She heard someone say, ‘she is indeed a beauty.’ Then the crowds took up the cry: ‘Long live Isabella the Fair.
    God bless our Queen.’
    She felt intoxicated with joy. She was a Queen; she had a handsome husband whom she could love; her new people admired her and welcomed her warmly to her new land. It was everything she had imagined.
    This was happiness.
    There was a sudden silence in the crowd. A man had stepped forward. He was clearly of great importance for he was surrounded by extravagantly clad men who were in attendance. He was like a king himself— even more magnificent.
    He must be an Emperor, she thought, or some ruler of even greater rank than the King himself.
    His cotehardie glittered with jewels and the purple velvet cloak, surely a royal colour— was trimmed with miniver. He was dark-eyed, very handsome, lithe and graceful.
    ‘My lord,’ he cried and then he and the King were embracing as though their reunion was the sweetest thing in the world Edward was murmuring, ‘Brother― my brother― It has seemed so long.’
    ‘Forsooth Edward, you are back now. God’s ears, I thought the time would never come. It has seemed an age.’
    ‘Perrot, how has it been? What of the lords―?’
    ‘Fiddler has been fiddling, and the Mad Hound foaming. What did you expect, dear lord?’
    ‘Oh, it is so good to be back.’
    Isabella said: ‘My lord, I pray you present your friend to me.’
    ‘My dear Isabella, of course― of course― This is the Earl of Cornwall, my brother.’
    ‘I did not know of this brother. I thought your brothers were but children.’
    Edward laid his hand caressingly on Gaveston’s arm.
    ‘This is
my
beloved brother. We were together in the nursery, and there he became my best-loved brother. He has remained so since. You will love him, Isabella. He is the most amusing, interesting, charming, delightful of all our lords.’
    She thought she detected an air of insolence in the manner in which Gaveston regarded her. She thought:
The Earl of Cornwall, indeed! I shall soon put this fellow in his place. What possesses Edward to make so much of him?
    She inclined her head slightly. She was then aware of a certain tension which had fallen on the watchers.
    ‘Let us go into the castle,’ said Edward.
    They walked up the steep incline, the crowds parted to let them through. The shouting for the King and Queen persisted, but the Queen detected that there was a certain difference in these and those which had at first greeted her.
    It was irritating that the Earl of Cornwall should walk beside them as they made their way into the castle.

    * * *

    There was a banquet to celebrate their arrival and as her women prepared her for it and kept exclaiming at her beauty, reminding her how the people who had gathered to see her and the King had been completely charmed by it, her spirits rose.
    She had allowed herself to be irritated by that arrogant man who really had been ridiculously overdressed and tried to take up the King’s attention. That was something she would not endure. She would speak to Edward about him at the first opportunity.
    She asked her women: ‘Why does the Earl of Cornwall give himself such airs?’
    There was a brief silence and she went on sharply: ‘Answer me. Are you all