The Vow on the Heron

MURDER IN MELROSE

WITH his great enemy captive in England Edward no longer need fear the Scots and as a result, he decreed that David the Bruce should return to his kingdom.

David’s wife Joanna was delighted. Now they would be able to live happily together, she believed. It was what she had always hoped for. Their married life had been ill-fated from the start; they had never had a chance of any domestic happiness, and when she had been at the English Court and seen the devotion of Edward and Philippa and their family she had longed for a similar felicity. Fate had been against them. Life in the Château Gaillard had been so artificial and David had seemed indifferent to his destiny while he was in France, but she had always believed that if he could return to the land of his fathers he would change. That he had not when after seven years in France he returned to Scotland she chose to forget. There had always been trouble and those five years together in Scotland had been far from pleasant, but when he had been taken prisoner by the English and there had been another long separation she had allowed herself to dream that they had been happy together. It was eleven years since he had gone to England.

We are older now, she promised herself. We are wiser and we shall learn to understand each other.

The meeting was an emotional one for her. He was still very handsome and he behaved as though he were as delighted to be with her as she was with him, and for a few weeks she was very happy; then she began to see less of him because he explained he was busy with state affairs.

The truth was she bored him. She reminded him of her sister-in-law and he had often wondered how Edward could turn a blind eye to all the beautiful women at his Court and remain the faithful husband of plump and homely Philippa.

Joanna was not plump; she was handsome enough in a gentle way but he did not care for gentle women. He liked a certain coarseness, a bawdiness ... he liked a woman like Katherine Mortimer.

Where was Katherine now? Missing him doubtless as he missed her. She had sworn she would not let him go. She would make plans to follow him, she had said, and it would not surprise him if one day she arrived in Scotland.

And then what of Madame Joanna?

An idea occurred to him. He could not wait to put it into practice. He made sure that Joanna noticed how preoccupied and uneasy he was and when she asked what troubled him he admitted that certain matters lay heavily on his mind.

‘It’s the treaty with your brother,’ he told her. ‘There is bound to be trouble over it. God knows I want peace but Edward will impose hard terms for that.’

‘I think he is eager for peace in Scotland.’

‘Doubtless, but on his own terms, and it may well be that some of our Scottish lairds will not take kindly to what he suggests. Edward has always been hard on me. I believe he did not approve of our marriage in the first place.’

Joanna was silent. It was true Edward had not liked the marriage. He had avoided being present at the ceremonies. He had thought she was too young; and later of course she had sensed that he disapproved of David.

‘Of course he is devoted to you,’ went on David. ‘He loves well his female relations. They say his daughters can persuade him to anything. It may well be so with his sister.’

‘Edward has always been very kind to me.’

‘I know it. He always spoke so warmly of you. Now if it were you who had to deal with him instead of me ...’

‘You know, David, that I would do anything ... anything for peace between our two countries.’

‘Would you? No, it is asking too much. Besides I could not lose you now we have just come together.’

You mean ... Go to England ... I negotiate with my brother!’

‘The thought entered my mind. It would mean peace ... a long long truce between our countries. That is what Scotland needs.’

She was thoughtful. ‘I will go to England if you wish it, David.’

‘I wish it for Scotland but not for myself.’

‘We must think of Scotland before ourselves.’

‘It need not be for long. Oh Joanna, you could complete this business in a week. Edward would indulge you ... listen to you. What a happy fate for Scotland to have the sister of the King of England for its Queen.’

‘The sooner I go the better.’

‘The sooner you go the sooner you will be back.’

‘I will leave at once,’ she said. ‘And I promise you I will do all in my power to help this country.’

Before the end of the week she had set out.

It was just in time, David delightedly told himself, for what he had prophesied had come to pass. Katherine Mortimer had arrived at the palace.

How they laughed together! How they revelled in being together! Making up for lost time, David called it.

He did not care what those about him thought or said. Katherine was back with him, and there was no woman who could satisfy him as she did.

They were together night and day and none of the knights or ministers could see him alone.

What will happen, they asked each other, when the Queen returns? David did not concern himself with that question. Katherine was installed as royal mistress, the woman on whom the King doted, who was beside him at all hours and without whose advice he never acted.

David was quite content to live in the ecstatic present.

Edward received his sister kindly and listened attentively to her pleas that he should not treat the Scots too harshly.

He had not been exactly lenient and was demanding a ransom for David’s return and was also presenting him with a bill for his expenses during the time he had been in England.

This was no small sum and Joanna pointed out that she did not see how the Scots could meet it.

When she pleaded with him Edward was deeply touched. She was a good and faithful wife to David who did not deserve such a wife. Both he and Philippa had been deeply shocked by David’s behaviour when he was in England and Edward had discovered that Katherine Mortimer had gone north and was certain that she would now be in Scotland.

His pity for his sister—in which Philippa joined—made him determined to help her all he could so he took pleasure in modifying his terms which pleased her very much for she felt that her journey to England had indeed been worth while.

‘You should stay with us a while,’ Philippa said. ‘It has been a long and tedious journey. You must not plan to leave so soon.’

‘I love to be with you,’ replied Joanna. ‘You have both been so kind to me. But I long to get back and tell David what I have been able to achieve.’

Edward then laid no obstacles in her way and very soon she was on her way to Scotland.

‘Poor girl,’ said Edward to Philippa, ‘I trust she may not find what I fear she may when she gets there.’

Crossing the Border Joanna felt happy. She had come to love the dour land of her adoption. The mountains enchanted her; she had grown accustomed to the climate which was so much harsher than that of the south. If her marriage had not been so beset with disasters she could have been very happy with her husband.

David had charm; he was undeniably handsome; she knew that women admired him. She had noticed their looks in the crowds when they rode out. In Château Gaillard there had been women ... But she preferred not to think of that. He had been such a boy then, an unhappy boy, driven from his own country. What could one expect?

It would all be different now ... so different.

She reached Edinburgh and rode into the castle. She had thought David would be there to meet her.

In her chamber they had lighted a fire for her. She would be cold after her journey. They knew that she felt the cold.

Her women helped her dress. It was a strange homecoming.

She wanted to ask where the King was, but that would call attention to the strangeness. She thought her women were trying to tell her something.

When she prompted them they looked embarrassed and feeling uneasy she left her apartments and went to those of the King. From them came sounds of laughter—a woman’s laughter. Yes, and that was David’s voice.

One of the guards stepped before her. ‘My lady ...’

She looked at him questioningly. Something was wrong, she knew. She stepped past him and opened the door.

David was there; he was seated on his chair and at his feet on a stool sat a woman, with dark hair falling loose about her bare shoulders over which her gown had slipped down.

‘David! ‘ she began.

He did not look round.

‘It is the Queen returned from her mission,’ he said.

The woman did not look either. She merely laughed.

‘What does this mean?’ cried Joanna, her heart sinking, her mind telling her what she knew full well. This was the meaning of her attendants’ embarrassed looks, the seeking to detain her from coming to her husband’s apartments.

‘What does what mean?’ asked David languidly.

She had come forward and faced them now. She saw the table on which was food and wine. One of the goblets was overturned and the wine trickled over the table.

‘Who is this woman?’

The woman rose and dropped a curtsey which was full of mockery.

‘Katherine Mortimer my lady at your service—and the King’s,’ she said.

‘And who ... ?’

‘You might say the King’s friend,’ was the answer. Joanna stepped back, her face flushed.

‘I ... I think I understand,’ she said, and walked from the room.

Neither of them moved. She heard them laughing as she went out of the room.

Back in her own apartment she dismissed her women.

It cannot be true, she said to herself. But she knew it was. This was worse than Château Gaillard. There it had been furtive, petty infidelities, which he had made half-hearted attempts to keep from her. This was blatant insult.

She had deceived herself, of course. He would never change. He was weak; he was licentious, a profligate. What hope was there for their marriage? What hope for Scotland? She had been deceived throughout her life. She was foolish; everyone must be laughing at her. They would have known what he was; and she, the one who had thought herself closest to him, was the one who saw least.

The Countess of Carrick was asking to come in.

She was a member of the Bruce family and had been a good friend to Joanna through her troubles. Now she looked at her with great sympathy.

‘You have discovered then,’ she said now. ‘Oh my poor Joanna! ‘

‘Who is the woman?’

‘A low creature whom he met in England. She shared his prison with him.’

‘He has been faithful to her for a long time,’ said Joanna bitterly.

‘She followed him to Scotland. She has been openly with him since you went away.’

‘I shall not endure it.’

‘What shall you do? He’s the King. He will act as he pleases.’

‘What do the people think?’

‘They are ashamed for him. They speak so highly of you. They do not like it—but he does not care.’

‘I cannot stay here and suffer these insults to continue,’ said Joanna. ‘I shall go to England. I will send a messenger at once to ask my brother’s permission to stay at his Court.’

‘It is the best thing,’ said the Countess. ‘I will come with you. I do not care to stay here and see a member of my family behave in this way ... even though he is the King. I wonder what his father would think of him if he were living today.’

‘If he were,’ said Joanna mirthlessly, ‘David would not be King of Scotland.’

‘Aye and Scotland a happier country than it is under the son of Robert the Bruce.’

‘I shall prepare to leave at once,’ said Joanna, ‘for I am determined I shall not stay here to be insulted.’

‘We will leave tomorrow and make our way south. I am prepared because I knew what you would find and what you would feel.’

‘Thank you, Annabella. It is good to have friends. Now, let us make our preparations to leave.’

Edward and Philippa greeted Joanna with a warm welcome. Edward was furious that his sister should have been treated so and said that a residence should be found for her and she should have an income so that she could be completely independent of her husband.

Meanwhile David, learning of his wife’s departure and knowing full well the reason for it, was greatly disconcerted. When he rode out the people were sullen and silent; now and then he heard voices raised against him. The Earl of Mar and several of the lords showed clearly their disapproval of his actions which had led to Joanna’s departure and the Earl pointed out the effect this was going to have on the King of England. The terms Edward had imposed were harsh enough but there was always a possibility that they might be modified. What hope was there of getting Edward to agree to this leniency when his sister had been grossly insulted?

Edward was a stern enemy; he was also a family man, and always most angry if any harm came to those close to him.

Distracted, David was ready to do what he could to remedy the situation except one thing. He would not give up Katherine Mortimer. When the Earl of Mar suggested she be sent back to England he was adamant and declared he would stand out against them all rather than lose Katherine.

The Earl could see that he could well lose his kingdom through that woman and a kingdom without a king could lead to all sorts of trouble. His advice—and this was supported by most of the lords and counsellors—was that David should go at once to England and beg his wife to return with him.

‘It may be,’ said the Earl, out of the King’s hearing, ‘that if he is separated from Katherine Mortimer for a while he might escape from her wiles. It is a chance.’

‘Go to England!’ cried David. ‘Beg Joanna to return. That I will not do.’

‘My lord, you must do this. The Queen is a peace-loving, gentle lady. When she sees what her absence means to Scotland she will return to you. You need not go in too supplicating a manner. You can save that for when you are alone with the Queen. It is known throughout the land that we cannot meet the next instalment of your ransom, so let it be thought that you come to the King to beg him to give you time to raise the money. It is a plausible reason. But the main object is of course to bring the Queen back.’

David was at last persuaded and he set out with a party of eighty horse headed by the Earl of Mar.

It was too much to expect Edward to receive him at Court and he took up his quarters at the priory of Holborn, from where he sent a message to Joanna begging her most humbly to come to the priory to see him.

She came and found him in a very different mood from when she had last seen him. He looked at her apologetically.

‘My dear Joanna,’ he said, ‘I fear I was the worse for wine when we were last together. I want to ask your forgiveness.’

She was silent.

He took her hand which she allowed to remain limply in his. He began to exert his charm, to try to win her confidence. He did not understand Joanna. She was gentle and she hated conflict; she was prepared to endure a good deal in the cause of duty; but she was not weak. And she would never be deceived by him again. He made the mistake of confusing gentleness with weakness. He had to learn that when a woman of Joanna’s nature had made up her mind she could show a firmness of which he could never be capable.

‘You may spare your efforts,’ she said coolly. ‘You want me to come and stay here while you are here because of the effect it will create. I will do so. But do not think there shall be the slightest degree of intimacy between us. I will be with you at ceremonies and that is all. I will help plead the cause of Scotland with the King my brother but I no longer regard myself as wife to you and never shall.’

This seemed victory to David. She would live under the same roof. It would only be a matter of time he was sure before he cajoled her into returning to Scotland with him. And when there she would perforce accept the presence of Katherine. It would not be the first time that a queen had had to agree to live side by side with her husband’s mistress.

Joanna was true to her word. She joined her husband and went with him to Edward to plead for alleviation of the Scottish debt.

Philippa understood the situation and applauded Joanna’s tact and wisdom.

‘With your help,’ Joanna told her, ‘I shall stay here. I know that I have your support and that of Edward. I shall never go back to him again.’

Philippa placed a hand over that of her sister-in-law, saying warmly: ‘You will always be welcome here.’ She was deeply sorry for Joanna and was sure that had she been in her position she would have behaved in the same way. How fortunate she had been in her married life. For that very reason she wanted to show her thankfulness by helping Joanna all she could.

Edward agreed that the payment of the instalment should be postponed and made it clear that this concession was granted for the sake of his sister who had pleaded so earnestly for it. They discussed a peace treaty and it was agreed that Scottish youths should be allowed to work in English universities.

When this business had been completed, there was no reason why David should remain in England and he prepared to return to his own country.

He had quite expected that Joanna would accompany him and for the first time it was brought home to him that he did not understand his wife.

She faced him squarely. ‘You may rest assured that I shall never return to Scotland. I have decided to stay here with my family who love and respect me.’

In vain did he protest. She was determined.

He rode back with his grim-faced nobles across the Border. The real object of the mission had failed. Joanna had left him; and the people were not pleased with his treatment of his Queen.

He was growing very unpopular and if it had not been for memories of his father Robert the Bruce they might have risen against him.

Katherine Mortimer was waiting for him and when he was with her he forgot everything else.

In Castle Rising the Dowager Queen Isabella lay very ill. She was sixty-three years of age and it was nearly twenty-eight years since her lover Roger de Mortimer had been snatched from her side and barbarously executed. He had been her life; the only person she had ever loved and when she had lost him she had declined into temporary madness. As she had grown older these bouts had grown less frequent and during the last ten years there had scarcely been any.

She had changed a great deal. She had become the Lady Bountiful of Castle Rising, known for her good works. But older people who remembered the havoc she had caused and the murder of her husband Edward the Second, which was said to be the most cruel ever known, whispered that a lifetime of good works could never expiate her sins.

She had grown serene, forgetful of that in the past which she did not want to remember.

Lying in her bed she dozed and when she awakened her thoughts were happy ones. She thought of all the good works she had done and caused to be done. Twenty-eight years was a long time. She was loved and respected here in Castle Rising. It was only now and then that people remembered, and when all was considered she had deprived the country of an unworthy king and given it a great one. Surely that was justifiable.

She had enjoyed hearing news from outside the castle. How her son Edward was revered wherever he went; how he was claiming the French crown because she his mother had been a daughter of a King of France; how he and his plump wife had produced that hero, the Black Prince. Surely it was not such a bad life? What had happened in Berkeley Castle had been long forgotten. Surely she could die in peace.

Edward came to see her. How handsome he was, how kingly! He knelt by her bed and taking her hand held it firmly in his.

‘Dear son,’ she said, ‘you fulfilled all my dreams for you.’

He bowed his head. He could not pretend to love her. Perhaps he had long ago when they had been in France and Hainault together and he first met Philippa. In those days he had looked to her and Mortimer and had been their tool. Well, he had been only a boy and they had ruled through him. Then he had discovered the truth about them—their adulterous relationship and worse still their relentless ambition. It might have been because of his mother that he had been a faithful husband and devoted father. He had determined that he would not resemble his parents in any way.

But all that was in the past. She was dying now.

He wondered if she knew it.

She did, because she said: ‘I am dying, Edward. Promise me that I shall be buried in the Grey Friars of Newgate.’

‘It shall be,’ said Edward, for none could deny a dying wish. But the Grey Friars in Newgate was where the mangled body of Mortimer lay. So she remembered her lover still and would be laid beside him.

She went on: ‘And your father’s heart must be with me. I want it laid upon my breast. Will you do this for me, Edward?’ Edward swore he would.

Her wishes were carried out and little was said of her burial. She herself was a figure of the past. Few remembered her story so there were not many to marvel that she should wish to have the heart of the husband whom she and Mortimer had caused to be murdered buried with her.

The King of Scotland refused to be depressed by what he called his wife’s desertion.

‘Let her stay with her noble brother,’ he cried. ‘At least I do not have to support her.’

Katherine consoled him and he was relying more and more upon her. In vain did those who wished him well implore him to use discretion. He snapped his fingers at them and the conduct of the lovers grew more and more blatant.

Katherine showed her contempt for those lords who were cool to her. She contrived that they could not even speak to the King unless it was in her presence. Having flamboyant tastes she adorned herself in the royal jewels and was a glittering figure beside the King wherever he went.

In the streets the people muttered against her. They called her the wanton harlot, the King’s whore, but Katherine merely laughed at them and made David laugh with her. Sometimes he felt a little uneasy but Katherine always made fun of his moods. She could excite him and soothe him and he told himself he could not live without her.

Anyone but David would have seen that he could not continue in this way, but he was blind to everything but the satisfaction he derived from his mistress’s company.

They were riding together near Melrose one day with a small party of friends.

David was a short distance ahead of Katherine when suddenly he heard a cry of agony and turning sharply he saw her fall from her horse.

Those who were riding with him were some little way behind. They did nothing when a man broke into their ranks and ran into the forest. Then to his horror David saw that Katherine was covered in blood and that a knife was protruding from her side.

He knelt beside her calling her name. She looked at him with glazed eyes and then he knew that she could not see him; she would never see anything else again.

So Katherine, the King’s mistress, had been murdered and David was beside himself with grief which could only be assuaged by violent revenge. He wanted the man who had done this deed. He wanted him brought before him. He wanted him tortured. Oh, it should he a long and lingering death.

Enquiries were made and it was discovered that the murderer was a peasant called Richard de Hulle.

‘Bring him to me,’ cried David. The thought of what he would do to this man was all that could pacify him. Only to see him writhing in misery while his life was prolonged that he might suffer again and again could give him any comfort.

But Richard de Hulle was never brought to justice. He had too many friends in high places. In fact he had worked for men who paid him well and promised him protection because they saw that the only way to save Scotland and her King from complete disaster was to dispose of that woman. So David was forced to live without his beloved Katherine. On the advice of his ministers he asked Joanna to return. Katherine was dead. He would be a good husband to Joanna now.

But Joanna had heard that before. She was firm. ‘I am happy,’ was her reply, ‘to remain in my native country, where I enjoy the love of those whom I can trust. I shall never return to Scotland.’