Grooms hastened to take the horses and the steward escorted them within to the smaller of the two halls. A fire crackled in the hearth of the second one, and the walls were whitened with limewash. Daylight streamed into the chamber from several arched windows. William’s shield had been hung on the wall above the lord’s chair and a trestle table stood nearby spread with a white cloth and laid with utensils and dishes, the silver-gilt twinkling.
Robert, Joanna’s cook, appeared in a waft of savoury vapours, an apron fastened over his tunic. He placed a bowl of goldencrusted bread on the table and bowed to William and Joanna, his cheeks fire-red. ‘I have fine tender venison, from the park,’ he said, ‘and prime salmon and eels from the river with herb sauce, all ready for your delight.’
Joanna smiled and thanked him. Robert had been one of Joanna’s first appointments after she had come into her inheritance, recommended by Cecily, who had helped her to select her core household employees. ‘You have surpassed yourself,’ she said.
He puffed out his chest with pride, flourished a bow and retired to his task.
Joanna looked at William who was gazing around, wide-eyed and smiling. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘Ravenous.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘This is a feast for the eyes as well as the belly.’
The dishes arrived, succulent and well seasoned. William, Joanna and their household ate until they were almost too full to move. The afternoon sunshine slanted through the windows, and William raised his first toast as master of Hertford, his eyes alight with pride.
To work off their meal, they set out to explore the rest of the keep. A well-appointed room lay beyond the hall and their bed had been set up at its far end with an adjoining private chapel, and there were two latrines with new wooden seats behind red-painted doors. Joanna went to look out of the window at the sun-polished river. ‘What excellent light for sewing. I shall have my frame set up here tomorrow.’
They investigated the rest of their kingdom – the upper rooms and battlements, the spacious courtyard, and the intimate garden with a small orchard and a water course running through it. Beyond that lay the majestic spread of the hunting park waiting to be stocked with game at the King’s pleasure.
Eventually they separated, William to have a word with his knights and Joanna to their chamber to oversee the unpacking of the rest of their goods.
She hummed softly, liberated to be away from court. It might be the vibrant hub of power but she had to be constantly on her guard for both herself and William. He had learned to be a little more circumspect these days, but remained vulnerable to becoming involved in trouble, and the King’s affection made him a target. William tended to play on Henry’s love for him and basked in his favour, partaking of all that the court had to offer. He drank and gambled and went out riding with the other young men and Joanna worried, for in her eyes he needed to be more responsible and sober.
He had organised another tourney for February. Henry had refused permission, but William had decided to hold it anyway, promising the competitors he would go surety for any difficulties that arose. She had had a massive argument with him about defying the King’s will, but William had stood his ground, determined to prove his manhood and skill. How else, he demanded, could he gain the necessary experience? One day it might mean the difference between life and death. All Joanna could think of were Cecily’s words about a husband’s behaviour reflecting on his wife and that she might be considered a party to his defiance. Trying to tell him he should be protecting the King and that going against his word might be construed as rebellion had met with a stony refusal to compromise.
At her wits’ end, she had prayed desperately for the event not to happen, and God had heard her plea. On the eve of the tourney a heavy blizzard had put paid to the arrangement and all the grandiose plans had come to nothing. In her mind’s eye she could still see the snow whirling around her as she left the chapel, and feel that white, muffling silence. William had flung about cursing, marching up and down, throwing things and shouting. He had sent out letters postponing the tourney until a later date, as yet unspecified. For the moment all was in abeyance, but she knew he had not forgotten and his determination to hold another tourney remained as strong as ever. He was still practising his manoeuvres at every opportunity and acquiring new equipment.
They had mended their disagreement. He had brought her thoughtful little gifts and been charming, amusing and attentive, but it had not changed things. She recognised his need to vent his vigorous physical energy. Without that, he became grumpy and sharp, but when that side of his nature was fulfilled and content it opened up a calm space within him, and then he was hers, and she lived for those moments.
Removing her shoes and stockings, Joanna lay down on the bed to rest for a moment, but no sooner had she stretched out her legs than she noticed a cobweb ghosting the canopy and had to be rid of it. Standing on tip-toe, she batted it away and drew the curtains to check for others, and for chrysalises hiding in the folds. She would chivvy the maids later, but doing this herself gave her great satisfaction.
She heard William arrive and say something over his shoulder to Jacomin in the antechamber, and then he came fully into the room.
‘Joanna?’
She tensed as she heard him walk over to the bed, and then she leaped out on him with a cry of ‘I’m here!’ He had to move swiftly to catch her and she laughed aloud. He thought her too staid and sensible and she was determined to show him she could be joyous and playful too when not having to be on her guard.
He spun her around in his arms until they were both dizzy before dropping her on the bed and pulling her on top of him. ‘Ah, Joanna!’ he said with a laugh. ‘I adore you!’ He rolled her over and moved down the bed. ‘I love you from the finest hair on your head right down to your littlest toe!’ He kissed her feet, small, nibbling kisses, and pushed her gown above her ankles. ‘I love your feet,’ he said, rubbing them. ‘Your ankles, your legs …’
Joanna arched and gasped. He moved over her, speaking softly, kissing, caressing and stroking as he named each part, and then he rose above her and she drew him into her with triumph and joy that he wanted her with just as much hunger as she wanted him. She clasped her legs around him and let the pleasure come. In their own bed in their own castle on their first day here. It was very right.
When it was over, they slowly drew apart. William rolled on to his back and Joanna kissed his cheek.
‘What you do to me,’ he said with a soft chuckle. ‘I swear I lose all sense but one.’
‘Do not blame me!’ she retorted, and tugged his hair.
‘What else do you expect when you are hiding behind the bed-curtains, barefoot! What else is a husband to do when thus accosted!’
Joanna shot him a coy look. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’
‘You know perfectly well. Put on your shoes before I lose my senses again. De Bussy has arrived to make a report on the dower claims of your cousins. Oh, and the Abbot of Dene is here seeking hospitality for the night.’
Joanna’s face grew hot. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I just have done,’ he said smugly.
She hit him with a pillow, and then bounced off the bed and hurried to the garderobe. ‘You had better send in Nicola,’ she said. ‘I need to make myself presentable.’
Grinning, William cast the pillow aside and stood up. ‘You look very presentable just as you are,’ he said as he adjusted his garments. ‘All wild-haired and wanton.’
