The Kingmaker's Pawn

Chapter Eleven

Isabelle's litter was even grander now she was a royal duchess. George had it lavish, richly decorated and coloured. That way nobody could mistake her for a simple lady. The people would see her new status and worship her as they did the witch queen. That was something Isabelle had never quite understood, no matter what she stole from the old family's what positions she handed to her commoner relations the people, according to the Earl loved her.

Perhaps she was their hope. Maybe they would now long for a day that even a peasant could marry a king of England. Not that Elizabeth Woodville was much more than a peasant. What were the gentry if not poor lords or rich peasants? They weren't without master. They were sworn to their liege Lord. What difference was there in that to a peasant? They weren't noble. They weren't bred for royal duty. Not like Isabelle was.

What if one really was a hag? Maybe the bumbling son Edward would have had, if he was not already deposed, would have married some hag who cast a love spell upon him. She wouldn't even be beautiful like Elizabeth Woodville, she'd be ugly, old and wrinkled. And she'd stink like all peasants did.

After some hours, Isabelle lost count, the litter pulled to a halt, not like the others where the guards had needed to check the road ahead, or when Isabelle had needed to get some air. They stopped for a good long while, Isabelle's ladies had drifted into a sleep. She didn't much wish to wake them. They were peaceful and Margaret was with child, it was most likely the child wearing her down for she barely ever napped in the litter.

Even from the litter Isabel could smell the sweet cakes from the kitchens.

"Isabelle," Anne popped her head through the curtains of Isabelle's litter, "we are home."

"Yes," I am no fool, Isabelle smiled sweetly down at her sister. "Sister, come." She nudged Margaret as the steps were set down from the litter. Margaret's dark brown eyes opened and closed several times before she let out a yawn and stretched out her arms. Isabelle had herself helped down from the litter. "Come, Margaret."

Margaret nudged the other ladies who stirred only for a moment, and then woke in an instant, each hurrying from the litter. They stood infront of Isabelle ready for a scolding, though none came. Margaret rested her hand on her stomach and smiled. She nodded her head to her two younger sisters, and held onto Isabelle's hand as she made her way down from the litter onto the cobbled track.

"You are well?" Lady Anne walked towards her daughter.

"Yes, Lady Mother." Anne and Isabelle chorused and out of habit both curtsied.

"Margaret, take Anne to her rooms." Lady Anne commanded and dropped a vacant kiss atop of Her younger daughters fair head.

"Yes, my lady." Margaret acknowledged Lady Anne and then led her youngest sister up into the castle, half a dozen of Lady Anne's attendants following closely behind.

Lady Anne placed her arm around her eldest daughter. She looked up to the battlements, and smiled. "This, my girl is to be yours." She squeezed her daughter so Isabelle's head now rested on her shoulder. "All of this, this beauty."

Isabelle smiled. Warwick Castle was more a kings castle than an Earl's. It should have been a royal household, but instead it was her mothers inheritance. Once Isabelle's son was grown it would be his, he would have been happy as Earl of Warwick, but now her boy would have nothing less than King of England as his title.

"And Middleham?" Isabelle thought of the beautiful northern stronghold. "Will that be mine also?"

"Perhaps, it shall be your fathers choice. I do not know much of what he shall allow you," Lady Anne began to walk Isabelle towards the castle, "but I do know Westminster shall be your home."