‘As God wills it,’ Joanna replied with dignity. ‘After all, oak trees are slow to engender, but they are the strongest and most lasting of all the trees in the forest.’
Eleanor patted her arm. ‘If that is the case then your sons will surely be mighty and surpass their father. I expect any of the ladies will be pleased to assist you with advice and nostrums if you ask.’
Joanna clenched her teeth and pressed her lips together. Thank God, the de Montforts would be returning to Gascony soon.
‘Simon de Montfort is a fine soldier,’ William enthused to Joanna later. ‘We ought to get to know him better while he is here, since he is my brother-by-marriage.’
Preparing for bed, Joanna set her jaw and said nothing. Simon de Montfort stalked through the court like the lion on his shield and she well understood why William might strive to emulate such a strong personality.
‘I thought we might invite him and my sister to dine with us before he returns to Gascony. I know we have a dispute with them over the Marshal estates, but why not leave that in the hands of our lawyers and strive for an amicable resolution?’
‘You do not know what he is like,’ she said. Weazel leaped into her lap and circled, preparatory to curling up. ‘You do not know what he has done.’ She stroked the cat, seeking comfort.
He looked at her askance.
‘He and his wife consider that we have no right to anything,’ she said bitterly. ‘They want a bigger bite of my grandsire’s estate than they have been legally apportioned and they want Pembroke. Simon de Montfort has contempt for the King even as he serves him. You were not there when he called Henry a simpleton to his face and wished him behind bars. You were not there when he intimidated me and my brother because we were heirs to what he saw as his wife’s inheritance.’
William studied her with a perplexed frown.
‘He is strong and powerful and he makes friends of the same ilk to further his own cause. You may be the King’s brother but he will never treat you as an equal, and neither will his wife. I would not welcome them at my table even if I have to sit by them in the hall and be civil. It is a step too far.’
‘I will not invite them if you do not wish it, but it is a missed opportunity.’
‘In time you will see that it is not.’ It would mend the atmosphere if she capitulated, but even for William, she could not do it. The notion of sitting at table with the Earl of Leicester and his wife not only made her skin crawl, it made her afraid. She had controlled her childhood fear, but it had never gone away.
William was still pondering Joanna’s hostility towards the de Montforts the following day as the servants prepared the King’s painted chamber for a banquet, decorating the walls with fresh greenery to match the embroidered bed covers. A fire blazed in the capacious hearth and de Montfort stood warming his back and gazing round the room with narrowed eyes.
William approached him and held his hands out to the heat. He wanted to know de Montfort better and to understand what drew people to this man, and also to get to the bottom of Joanna’s antipathy. Clearly there was bad blood and a past of which he knew little. From what William had seen so far, de Montfort had a rod of iron in his spine. He was rigid, without flexibility, and possessed a forceful manner of speaking and a way of cutting men down to size with words in the same wise as he used his sword on the battlefield, but he had charisma, and military acumen. Henry appeared to avoid him, but nevertheless was paying him handsomely to deal with Gascony.
‘This is going to be a magnificent banquet,’ he said by way of an overture. ‘The green and gold look particularly striking, do you not think? The King has a fine eye.’
De Montfort eyed him with raised brows, and a look of surprise. ‘Indeed,’ he said. His gaze swept over the lavish preparations almost impatiently. ‘Perhaps it should be his sole calling in life.’ He looked at William and shook his head. ‘I wonder to myself what the King sees in you.’
‘Sire?’ William stared at him, taken aback by the scorn in de Montfort’s eyes.
‘You are barely a knight, you have never seen true battle or taken the decision of a statesman in your life, and yet he seeks your advice and you stand at his side every moment. Do I suppose that you prattle between you of colours and curtains and where next to spend the coin that he does not have?’
William could not believe his ears. ‘I beg your pardon, sire. What do you mean?’
‘I cannot speak more plainly,’ de Montfort replied impatiently. ‘To me you are an irrelevance. Do not boast to me that you are the King’s brother. You only have this position at court because your wife has laid it open for you with her purloined wealth and because the King only has half his wits. I have better things to do than prate of frippery.’ He turned on his heel and stalked off to join a group of other men, making it clear that William was not welcome to do the same.
For a moment, William was too astonished at the snub to be angry, and even when that emotion flooded through him he did not know what to do with it. As always, Joanna was far ahead of him. He had just been dismissed and insulted as a lightweight. He considered stalking over to de Montfort and having it out, but deemed it unwise to stir up antagonism in the face of de Montfort’s amused and hostile cronies. He had been rebuffed and knew where he stood. De Montfort would soon be returning to Gascony while he would be at the King’s side and making advantage. He suspected that was what really galled the Earl of Leicester.
Leaving the hall, he sought Joanna to tell her what happened. ‘You were right,’ he said. ‘But even had I gone as far as asking him to dine, I believe he would have refused me.’
‘You should avoid him,’ she replied. ‘You may have to stand in the same council chamber, but do not engage him unless you must, and leave the land dispute to the lawyers. His acquisitiveness knows no bounds.’
William nodded agreement. ‘I was thinking once de Montfort has gone that we could ask the King’s leave to visit Hertford. Perhaps in a couple more months when the spring grass has grown.’
‘Yes,’ Joanna said in a heartfelt voice. ‘It will be good to escape the court for a while.’
17
Hertford Castle, Hertfordshire, April 1249
In the first week of April, William and Joanna came to Hertford on the banks of the River Lea. Their baggage train had set out the day before so that the servants could prepare for their arrival, leaving William and Joanna to enjoy the journey unencumbered. They had set out at first light from London and rode up shortly after noon. The sky was a delicate spring blue and they had heard the first cuckoo of the season calling throatily from a copse as they journeyed along the green-edged country lanes.
Hertford filled William with proprietorial joy, for it belonged to him alone, and was not tied to Joanna’s Marshal inheritance. The King had given them gifts of deer to populate the park and building materials for repairs, alterations and improvements. Approaching the gatehouse with the keep beyond, a broad smile broke across his face.
