The Kingmaker's Pawn

Chapter Eighteen

The sound off hooves rattled through the courtyard bellow. Isabelle woke in an instant and spent a few moments adjusting her eyes to the darkness of her bed chamber before sliding her feet over the side of the bed as the noise outside continued. Just as she had as a curious child Isabelle tiptoed across the cold floor forgetting the weight of her son and pulled open the shutters. Horses were circling and the distaste on her fathers face was clear even from so high up in the castle.

Isabelle smiled knowing her father was safe, but there was no George and her heart sunk. She was a widow. Her son not yet born and her husband, her husband no more. She lent forward hoping one of the men around her father would turn and be her husband. None of them did. They kept circled around her father, speaking quickly before four of the seven cantered back away and the others lined their horses beside Warwick's.

Then came the sound of trumpets, it was still dark and it would wake the rest of the castle. Isabelle thought of Anne stirring and too walking to a window where she could catch a glimpse of the returned party. Nightdress crumpled and twiddling her hair to stop her nerves. Her lady mother would do the same, to see her own husband again. But Isabelle's was still not there.

The formation of the men tightened and Warwick looked right to Isabelle's window and grinned. Isabelle smiled back but couldn't tell if he had noticed. He knew she'd be watching, she always was.

"God Save the King!" Warwick shouted and the men responded with a loud roar: "God save the king." They were stomping heavy boots onto the cobbles, posts too hit the ground each with a crash and some with a crunch as wood splintered.

George, was Isabelle's only thought as the men chanted on and the flicker of flaming torched began to light the gateway. Beneath the mens calls there was most certainly also the thunder of hooves.

"God Save King George!" Warwick bellowed as George finally appeared, standard bearers to either side one bearing George's own and the other Isabelle's father's. The relief settled Isabelle as she watched the men pour in after George. They must have won. They had won her the crown. Her sons would be kings and her daughters princesses. She could not break the grin that spread across her face.

Unlike Warwick George did not look up to Isabelle's window instead he simply dismounted his horse and embraced Warwick. He was shaking his head just like he did when he was laughing, and then he and Isabelle's father began to make their way into the castle.

Isabelle padded back across to the bed, and sat down letting out a sigh as she heaved up her legs and tucked herself back beneath the covers like a naughty child knowing a parent would come an scold her for being up. But she wouldn't be scolded for it. Not this time. George would come bounding up her, and pour upon her his thanks for the son she carried, their prince. Their son and heir. Then he would have her ladies dress her and bring her into the hall where he would introduce the new Queen of England to the castle.

She grinned and pulled the bed sheets right up to cover her mouth to hide her smile. It would be even more perfect, in a few weeks a little boy would be in their arms and they would not think of the time when they had been mocked and called untrue by those loyal to Edward despite his illegitimacy. Her smile would not fade as she crushed her eyelids together in the hope she could make anyone who came in think her to be asleep.

The night wore on, and Isabelle fell to sleep without meaning too. Her eyes had began to fall closed not so long after she had laid herself down. She had tried for a while to force them open, look at the pattern on the canopy, at the stones on the floor at anything that could keep her thinking and awake. But her eyes were heavy, and as she counted the how many birds decorated the canopy above her she fell to sleep.