Desired (41 page)

Sweet Mary, he was home! She flung back her hair and picked up her skirts, unable to keep from running to his arms
.

“Brianna! Brianna, wherever are you going?” Joan inquired urgently.

Brianna turned, slightly confused. She looked at Joan sitting up in the bed, a look of deep concern upon her face. “I … I don’t know where I was going,” Brianna confessed. “Mayhap I was sleepwalking.”

She came back to the bed and slipped beneath the covers. Slowly, her dream came back to her. How happy she had been, surrounded by her beautiful family. She hoped with all her heart that she would have the children she had dreamed about. In a way she envied Joan her baby. With a child of her own, Brianna knew she would never be lonely again. Then the rest of her dream came flooding back.

She squeezed her eyes together tightly. Ah, God, her sons had had jet-black hair and she knew to whom her feet had wanted to run so willingly. Brianna knew she could not control her dreams, but nevertheless she suddenly felt terrible guilt. She must stop herself from thinking of him, dreaming of him! She honestly wanted to be a dutiful wife to Robert de Beauchamp. She must purge herself of the Arabian Knight!

W
hen the day after the Battle of Crécy dawned, the king and his nobles took a staff of heralds to examine the bloodstained field. Though it seemed hard to believe, the King of Bohemia, ten princes, and the Count of Alenčon lay dead. Philip’s nephew, the Earl of Blois, and his
brother-in-law, the Duke of Lorraine, were also among those slain. The Count of Flanders, who was supposed to be England’s ally, had paid the price for changing his coat. In all, the English had killed more than a thousand knights and thirty thousand soldiers, while suffering the loss of only a few hundred.

Philip of Valois escaped, but his fleet had been destroyed and now his army had been vanquished by the English. No French monarch had ever been so humiliated. Philip’s son, John, in charge of the army in the southern provinces, arrived too late to aid his father in battle. When he learned they had been defeated by a force smaller than a quarter the size of the French army, he was disgusted with his father’s leadership.

He had more than one grievance to air. Sir Walter Manny’s small force had been captured, but Prince John, an honorable leader, had given his word that Manny would have safe conduct so he could rejoin the English army. John was furious that his promise had been dishonored and Manny was still being held in close confinement at Orléans under terrible conditions. He refused to strike another blow in the French cause until Philip released the English knight. Sir Walter Manny was released immediately along with that other important hostage, William de Montecute, Earl of Salisbury.

King Edward and Warrick held a strategy meeting where it was decided to lay siege to Calais. They knew the advantage they would have if they established a bridgehead on French soil for future operations.

Calais held fast. It was impregnable and could be brought down only by starvation. Within weeks, King Edward’s army built a small town of comfortable wooden buildings with a marketplace at its center that sold food and clothing from England. The ships going the other way were loaded with spoils. The lowliest soldier’s wife sported jewelry and set her table with silver cups, while the nobles’ castles were filled with rare objects and their stables with blooded horses.

Behind this town that grew up were miles of marshland. The beleaguered citizens of Calais saw the fires of the reduced French army beyond the marshes, but despaired of
them coming to their aid. Every road and bridge was guarded by English bowmen and the French had had enough of such bitter medicine.

The queen, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting, the princesses, and her younger children’s nursemaids was reading aloud King Edward’s latest letter.

Philippa looked up from the letter to see Isabel’s mouth looking most sulky.

“This Louis is only a count?” she asked. “I always thought I would marry a king!”

Queen Philippa was taken aback. “Darling, there are no kings available, save France, our mortal enemy. Since his father was killed at Crécy, Louis, as the new count, will rule Flanders like a monarch. Remember, Isabel, Flanders is a wealthy country and your father says he is a handsome ruler.”

The queen’s ladies were quite excited at the news of Princess Isabel’s betrothal and that they were to make preparations to move the Court to France. Isabel suddenly began to enjoy all the attention she was receiving. “I want rich India silk for my wedding gown.” She cast an envious look at Joan of Kent’s dress. “I want it trimmed with ermine and embroidered with
real
gold thread!”

Joan caught her breath. She would go with the queen and princess to France! She would be with Prince Edward very soon; the moment Calais fell. Joan and Brianna had spent the day in the royal nursery because they were well aware they lacked experience with children. Now they became caught up in preparations for the move to France. Though the queen and her ladies regularly visited Ghent, Hainault, and Bordeaux, this would be the first visit for Princess Isabel and her ladies.

When they returned to Joan’s chambers, she could conceal her joy no longer. “Brianna, my prayers have been answered! Edward will take care of everything. Oh, it’s as if a huge millstone has been lifted from my chest.”

Brianna squeezed Joan’s hands. She, too, was caught up in the adventure of the sea voyage and the opportunity to visit France. She had received a letter from her betrothed that made her realize how fortunate she was. Poor Elizabeth Grey grew thinner by the week and despaired of ever finding a husband.

“You are so brave and honorable to do your duty and marry Robert. How can you bear to put aside your love for Christian?” Joan asked.

“I cannot put it aside, it is with me every moment.”

Joan, sorry she had asked, tried to cheer her. “Just think,
you’ll be married in France, just like Princess Isabel. We must design you a wedding gown that will put Isabel’s in the shade. I can’t wait to see the look on Glynis’ and Adele’s faces when they learn they’re going to France!”

Brianna knew both young women would be over the moon knowing they would be united with Paddy and Ali. With marriage in the very air, perhaps it would be contagious. She made no comment, however. How could Joan pretend her troubles were over? The prospect of seeing Edward had erased all her worries, but Brianna knew her problems would not be solved but would be compounded when the heir to the throne learned of Joan’s plight.

Brianna sighed and vowed to help her as much as she could. When she returned to her own chambers, she took out Robert’s letter and reread it.

Brianna refolded the parchment. It was a very nice letter. He had gone to considerable effort to find a scribe to set his feelings down for her. She was proud that he had earned his spurs and achieved knighthood. It sounded as if he missed her and loved her, and that she was foremost in his thoughts. She was indeed blessed by such devotion.

King Edward welcomed William de Montecute, Earl of Salisbury, with genuine affection. Their friendship went back a long way. It had been William who had helped him set a trap for the hated Mortimer, his mother’s paramour and murderer of his father.

It was only days, however, before the king had cause to regret his friend’s release. He received an urgent message that King David of Scotland had marched across the English border with an invasion force of fifteen thousand men.

When De Montecute learned of it, he was incensed. “You should never have given them back the Earl of Moray in exchange for me! Keeping him locked away was England’s only safeguard, Sire.”

“By Christ’s holy blood, I’ve just defeated an army of a hundred thousand strong, think you I’ll lose sleep over fifteen thousand?”

“I’m responsible,” Montecute insisted. “Turn me loose on the bastards!”

The king grinned. “We’ll go together. It will be like old times. The Scots believe all our fighting men are here in France, but they are in for a rude awakening. York has a few thousand under his command and so do my lords of the North, Neville and Percy.”

“What about the siege of Calais, Sire?” asked De Montecute.

“I have the best marshal on earth. Warrick can take charge. By the time we return from defeating the Scots, these French fools will have eaten all the horses and dogs in Calais and will be catching rats to survive!”

At a hastily summoned war council it was decided who would make the quick trip across the Channel, and who would remain with the siege of Calais. Prince Edward was so eager to fight the Scots, his father agreed he could chose some of his best lieutenants and join him and the Earl of Salisbury.

Warrick spoke up. “We need more ships to blockade the Channel and prevent the French from revictualing Calais.”

“I’ll send all the vessels we have available in the Cinque Ports,” Edward promised.

“I’ll put Northampton and Pembroke in charge of the
fleet. By the time you return, Sire, this city will be yours,” Warrick pledged.

Young William de Montecute was torn. Since his father was returning to England, it was only fitting that he stay behind to fight the goddamn French, whom he hated with a vengeance, but he was most unhappy that Prince Edward was taking John Holland back with him. It would give the new Steward of the Royal Household the advantage over him where Lady Joan of Kent was concerned. However, it wouldn’t be long before she was on her way here with Princess Isabel, who was coming for her betrothal to Louis, Count of Flanders. De Montecute vowed that if the Pope ruled in his favor, he would wed Joan immediately.