‘Not yet for me,’ Leonora said, touching her own waist. ‘The time was not right, but I shall see Edward again soon enough.’
‘There is so much pressure on us to provide heirs to dynasties.’
‘It is our duty,’ Leonora said.
‘Yes, but the expectation is weighty.’
‘A king must have an heir, and more than one. And daughters too, to make strong marriage alliances.’ Her gaze turned to Katharine, who had left her nurse’s arms and was touching the snow in wonder. ‘Edward and I will make some glorious sons and daughters between us, God willing. You do not need to comfort me with sympathy, though I should thank you for it. You are a good friend and companion.’
Joanna’s heart expanded with love for this extraordinary young woman. She would be a great queen, God willing, and she was the perfect consort for the headstrong Edward – a steadying hand on the rein.
A robin flitted on to a branch, sending a spray of snow to the ground. The nurse picked up Katharine again. The children were becoming cold and the sky had started to cloud over, threatening more snow, and the group turned to go inside to the comfort of a warm fire and hot wine.
As they were crossing the courtyard, a messenger arrived – one of Henry’s. Leonora and Joanna looked at each other. Leonora bade her usher have the man brought straight to her chamber and the children were sent off with their nurses to drink hot milk and warm themselves by their own fire.
‘It will be news from France,’ Leonora said as Joanna took her cloak and hung it on a peg. Leonora’s breath was short and her face flushed as much with anticipation as from the cold. ‘This will be the judgement of King Louis on the King’s right to choose his own advisers.’
Joanna’s stomach churned with tension. Simon de Montfort had sworn to abide by the ruling of King Louis, but whatever happened, there would be dilemmas. If Louis ruled in de Montfort’s favour, then she and William would face further exile and the loss of their lands. But if the judgement went to Henry, de Montfort would not accede with grace, whatever he had sworn to do beforehand.
Ushered into the room, the messenger knelt. He had a wind-burned, ruddy complexion and shrewd, bright blue eyes, cornered with deep weather lines. A dewdrop hung from his beaky nose. He blotted it on the cuff of his tunic and removed his cap to reveal receding flaxen curls. Kneeling, he presented Leonora with a sealed letter.
She took it from him, opened it, and as she read the contents, a triumphant smile broke over her face. ‘King Louis has ruled in our favour! That is great news!’ She looked to the messenger. ‘Does the lord Edward know of this?’
‘Yes, madam, riders went out to him also.’
‘Nevertheless, I shall write to him. I take it the King is still in France?’
‘Yes, madam.’
‘Go and eat and rest, and be ready to ride again shortly.’
He bowed and departed.
Leonora read the letter again. ‘There is nothing here for any of the reformists – nothing,’ she said to Joanna in a wondering voice. ‘All is to be restored as it was. The King is to have free rein to choose his own advisers as he wills.’ Anxiety tinged the pleasure in her voice. ‘A papal legate will be appointed to restore order in the Church, and excommunicate those who do not obey.’
‘Simon de Montfort will never accept it,’ Joanna said. ‘He will reject the findings, I know he will.’ The hot wine was like boiling lead in her stomach and she had to run to the latrine to be sick.
When she returned, Leonora gave her a sympathetic look.
‘It will pass,’ Joanna said with a grimace. She sat on Leonora’s day bed, feeling heavy and unwell. ‘There is going to be war. Even if de Montfort is laid up at Kenilworth, his leg will soon mend and he still has allies.’
Leonora’s young face grew hard. ‘But fewer allies than he did before, and many of them Churchmen. Even the ones he does have are unreliable.’ She rose to her feet to unwind her thoughts, and looked at Joanna over her shoulder. ‘The only thing that will end this is Simon de Montfort’s death – and Edward will see to it. He used to admire him – I believe he still does. He learned a great deal from him, but it is like playing chess with a skilled and dangerous opponent. If you want to survive you have to out-think your enemy. Edward has no softness in him that way, and the way he saw de Montfort changed for him when he saw his father belittled and his mother pelted with rubbish by Londoners. He will not stand for it. I saw what was happening when you were exiled, but the Queen was involved and Edward was younger then. Now he is a leopard full-grown.’
‘William has learned by this too – as have I,’ Joanna said. ‘I agree with all you say.’
Leonora looked at her. ‘I trust you with my life, and I hope you trust me with yours.’
‘That is a given, madam.’
‘Then even as men swear brotherhood on the battlefield, so should we be sworn sisters.’ Leonora came to Joanna and, taking her hand, gave her the kiss of a lord to a vassal. ‘We shall defend and protect each other and we shall not fail.’
By February royalist forces packed Windsor to the rafters, new men riding in daily as they gathered for war against Simon de Montfort. On a bright, cold morning, still clad in winter but with a pale blue sky between the ragged banners of cloud, Joanna was busy liaising with the stewards and helping Leonora find sleeping space for everyone who considered themselves entitled. The King and Edward had their apartments, but dealing with the other lords and ensuring that no one’s dignity was slighted called for bushels of tact and diplomacy.
‘Mother?’
She looked up at a tall, handsome youth with glossy brown hair and a soft moustache smudging his top lip. He wore a quilted tunic with the de Warenne badge sewn on the sleeve, and a dagger at his hip. A minor flourish of adolescent blemishes sprinkled his cheeks, and his nose was becoming William’s, chiselled and sharp.
‘Iohan!’ She rose, and threw her arms around him. ‘Oh, I vow you have grown again! When did my boy become a man?’ She held him away, laughing, and tearful. ‘Hah, you make me foolish because I am so proud!’
