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Gilbert.
    ‘Best of good fortune,’ he said, ‘and when you are free, Gilbert, we’ll find a good wife for you.’
    ‘With my lord’s permission I will find my own,’ was the reply.
    It was a very pleasant sojourn at Tonbridge. Gilbert, Earl of Gloucester, and the most powerful man in the country under the King, was with him.
    Edward expressed his gratitude for the hospitality which had been given him; he implied his pleasure in the Earl’s support, while he was determined to keep a watch lest it should be diverted.
    After Tonbridge, Reigate, where John de Warenne was waiting to receive the party.
    Grandson of the great William Marshal and therefore belonging to one of the richest families in the country, as a boy John de Warenne had been one of the marriage bargains of the day; and Henry III had arranged a marriage for him with his half-sister, Alice de Lusignan, who was the aunt of Gilbert Clare’s wife. To the King it had seemed an ideal arrangement for, family man that he was, he was eager to setttle his impecunious relations as comfortably as he could. Edward had never had any reason to doubt the loyalty of this man who was so close to him through his family ties.
    It was a very pleasant stay therefore at Reigate, marred only by the increasing fears of the Queen for young Henry.
    ‘It breaks my heart to see how he tries to hide his weakness,’ she told Edward when, after the long day’s meeting and festivities, they were alone together. ‘I know the child is far from well. He is so easily fatigued. Your mother said that little John was the same.’
    ‘Henry is young yet, my love. He will grow out of it.’
    ‘But we lost little John.’
    ‘We were not here then.’
    ‘Your mother would stand over him like a watch dog. She is devoted to the children, however …’ The Queen stopped short, but Edward laid a hand gently on her shoulder and smiled at her.
    ‘I think we understand my mother,’ he said. ‘There was never one more devoted to her family. Being clever and beautiful and delighting my father she has grown used to having her own way. She will unlearn …’
    But the Queen was uneasy and she had passed on that anxiety to Edward. Their daughter Eleanor was in fine good health. So had Joanna been when they left her in Castile; and Joanna could have been said to have made a rather difficult entry into the world. Acre was not the most temperate place to make one’s appearance and there had been a considerable lack of comfort. Yet she had bloomed from the start. The other little one had died, but that may have been due to the hardships her mother had suffered before her birth. No, they could get healthy children. Eleanor was unduly disturbed because of John’s death and her conscience continued to trouble her, because she had been torn between leaving her children and her husband.
    The next day the Queen continued downcast, although she tried to hide her feelings for she knew how her fears disturbed her husband.
    But the King was aware of this, and he took her into the chapel at Reigate and summoning the priest told him of the Queen’s anxiety.
    ‘There is a shrine close by, I believe,’ said the King. ‘Let a wax image be made of my son and there burned in oil before the image of the saint. It may be that he will petition God and the Holy Virgin for his safety.’
    The priest bowed and said it should be done, for it was a much practised custom to burn in oil a wax figure representing someone who needed special intercession with Heaven.
    ‘Now,’ said Edward firmly, ‘it is in the hands of the saints and do you doubt, my love, that they will turn deaf ears to the prayers of a mother as loving as yourself.’
    He was so good to her, said the Queen. And she could almost believe that she had been foolishly concerned, but her little Henry was such a dear child and she did so long to see him as full of health as his sister was.
    ‘That will come, I promise you,’ said Edward.
    And soon after they