Joanna nodded in chagrin. She allowed the maids to unlace and remove the gown and accoutrements, and wearing a simple linen undergown, her hair left uncovered, allowed Cecily to draw her to the window and sat down on a cushioned seat. Cecily eased down beside her and gave her the flowers.
Joanna inhaled their delicate, dewy scent. ‘You always know when to come to my aid and rescue me – often from myself,’ she said. ‘What will I do without you?’
Smile lines crinkled Cecily’s cheeks. ‘It is only experience, my dear. You will manage very well on your own, I promise you.’
Joanna gently touched the petals. ‘These are beautiful.’ She wondered what was coming, for with Cecily, flowers and ribbons were never just flowers and ribbons. There was always a lesson.
‘They are from the Queen’s garden, but you have seen them often enough in their bed as you pass.’ Cecily took a large daisy from the bunch and stripped the white petals into her lap one by one until only a golden dimpled heart remained, dusty with pollen. ‘A woman becomes an inviting bed for her husband to lie upon when she has been deflowered,’ she said. ‘She becomes his resting place and for him alone.’
Curious, interested and embarrassed, Joanna eyed her tutor. She did not need a lesson in marital chastity, but Cecily clearly had more to say on the matter.
‘She will fulfil the role of confidante and adviser. It is her duty to protect the family from gossip and keep it strong and principled. She will know not to gossip herself, and be wise in all she says and does, and she will let no one, man or woman, play her for a fool.’
‘Of course not,’ Joanna said, beginning to feel irritated for she knew all this.
‘If you must confide in anyone beyond your husband, then let it be to God alone,’ Cecily said, bending her a stern look. ‘There are those who will give you away, like the bee that lands on each flower and goes to each in turn. Some will be well meaning, and some will assuredly not.’
‘I understand,’ Joanna said stiffly. ‘I hope I have learned discretion in service to you and the Queen.’
Cecily gave a firm nod. ‘You had that even before you came to us, but a man is different and you must be careful. I know you think I am being an old hen, but I am a wise one too, who knows the world. Young men are often irresponsible and you will need to have good sense for both of you.’
‘I know you want the best for me,’ Joanna said. ‘And truly, I value your advice … but I do like him,’ she added defensively, for she had noticed the way Cecily looked at William, as if she thought him not good enough for her.
‘And that is a good thing,’ Cecily replied. ‘But there is a difference between walking in joy and stumbling because you have not seen the path under your feet. He is charming and handsome, I grant you, but what lies beneath the gilding will be the true test. Is he worthy of your love? Do not let any man sweep your feet from under you – and especially not your husband.’
Joanna realised with a sudden glimmer of understanding that Cecily was bound to be cautious after the scandal concerning her last important charge, the King’s sister, who had married Simon de Montfort and caused upheaval and rebellion at court. ‘No,’ she said with quiet determination, ‘you may be assured that it will not happen.’
‘I am pleased to hear it, but I expect no less from you. You will meet whatever comes your way with courage.’ Cecily took Joanna’s hand. ‘I remember what it was like, even if I no longer have that appetite and Christ is my solace. On your wedding night, be ready to know your husband in a full and carnal way, because that too is part of your flowering and womanhood, and your duty as a wife. Do not turn away, but meet him in honour and partnership.’
Joanna’s cheeks grew hot, but she met Cecily’s candid, compassionate gaze with resolve. Her tutor’s eyes were faded grey, frosted with the weight of years, but they held the wisdom of the world. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and impulsively threw her arms around Cecily’s neck and kissed her soft, wrinkled cheek. ‘You are my mother when I have no mother to ask these things. I am ready to be a true and loving wife – but I heed your advice, and thank you for it.’
12
Windsor Castle, Summer 1247
Escorted by a smiling Henry, Joanna came to the King’s chapel of St Edward the Confessor on her wedding day, wearing her blue gown and crimson vair-lined cloak. A headdress of plain white silk covered her rich brown hair, held in place by a gold circlet encrusted with pearls and sapphires. The maids bore her train with practised care, and with Cecily’s words in mind Joanna made a determined effort not to look behind, but to go forward with her head carried high.
She could still hardly believe she was about to wed the King’s brother. Her father stood at the forefront of the crowd gathered at the chapel door to witness the marriage, but since Henry was her guardian in respect of her Marshal inheritance, the responsibility fell to him to bestow her on William, for which Joanna was glad. She regarded the King as close family, and her father as a distant relation.
Waiting for her before the chapel door, William wore blue and white, with jewelled red swifts embroidered on his tunic. The fine morning light enhanced the mica glints in his eyes and put gleams of gold in his tight curls. His brothers stood with him, almost shoulder to shoulder, and they too were robed in the blue and white of Lusignan.
The bright expression on William’s face filled Joanna’s heart, for it was all focused on her. Only once did his glance flicker around the congregation, daring anyone to snatch this from him at the last minute.
Henry’s chaplain conducted the marriage ceremony. Oaths of endowment and property were sworn, and of faith and obedience. Having pledged their willingness, William slipped a gold wedding ring onto Joanna’s finger beside the enamelled flower one, and then they processed into the chapel for a wedding mass and prayers.
The chaplain preached a sermon on the sanctity of marriage – the duties of a good husband and the compliance of a diligent wife. Joanna risked a glance at William, but his expression was straight and bland – apart from a slight, natural smile. There was no indication of his thoughts on the matter.
The choir sang ‘Christus Vincit’ and then the company processed solemnly out of the chapel where the waiting crowd showered the bride and groom with grains of wheat and flower petals – symbols of fertility. Henry kissed Joanna and William heartily. ‘I wish you lasting joy and many children to bring to their fond uncle’s feet,’ he said mischievously, making Joanna blush.
‘You are the most beautiful woman I have seen in my life,’ William murmured to her as they processed, her arm on his, to the great hall for the marriage feast. ‘We are two halves of one whole, and I know how fortunate I am. I will serve you day and night as it pleases you, I promise.’
Joanna looked at him sidelong. He had just sworn to protect and honour her, as she had sworn to honour and obey him. But what that might mean lay in the future, and who could say that it would hold true?
‘What?’ he said with a quizzical smile.
‘I was thinking that together we can write our own future,’ she said. ‘When I was a child, I never imagined such a day.’
‘Then what did you imagine?’
