Once the public feasting and fêting were over, the Queen retired from the hall, but her private chamber was still filled with bustle. De Montfort’s investiture had brought many barons and their families to court and a line of ladies waited to pay their respects to Alienor. Joanna was run off her feet serving drinks and sweetmeats and fetching and carrying.
Joanna had only glimpsed the King’s sister Eleanor, the new Countess of Leicester, in the cathedral, but now came into closer proximity. She was a beauty, with dainty, almost sharp features and blue eyes as clear as glass. Small double-tailed lions danced in golden thread along the hem of her silk gown and Henry had presented her with a precious jewelled belt too, which gleamed at her waist. Joanna knew from talk in the chamber and Cecily’s own circumspect information that Cecily had tutored the Countess and been her companion for several years between her marriages.
Having greeted Alienor, the Countess made a point of embracing Cecily and presenting her with a small carved box containing a little gold cross with blue and green enamels.
Cecily’s eyes moistened as she gently touched the gift. ‘My lady, you have no need to give me such a fine thing,’ she said softly.
‘I would give you a dozen such.’ The new Countess fiddled with her wedding ring and a red flush stained her throat and cheeks as Cecily’s attention fell upon the gesture.
‘I thank you with all my heart, but a simple prayer would have sufficed. You are faring well? And the little one?’
‘Yes, indeed. Our son is flourishing,’ the Countess said with a brittle smile.
‘I am pleased to hear it, and hope to see him. I shall always hold you in my prayers, my dear, you know that.’
Joanna had been waiting to present Cecily with a cup of boiled spring water, and managed to curtsey without spilling the contents.
‘This is Joanna de Munchensy of Swanscombe,’ Cecily said, presenting her to Eleanor. ‘You will not know her since she has been here less than a year.’
The Countess’s glass-blue gaze fixed on Joanna, assessing and cool. ‘No, but I knew her mother, and of course I am well acquainted with her kin. You are fortunate to have this position, this education,’ she added, addressing Joanna directly.
‘Yes, madam.’ Joanna looked down, feeling awkward, knowing she was being measured and somehow found wanting through no fault of her own. The words ‘her kin’ had been laden with meaning.
The Countess departed to speak to another lady, and Joanna served the spring water to Cecily, who smiled reassuringly. ‘The Countess is right: you are indeed fortunate, but so am I. Seldom have I had such an apt pupil.’
Cecily’s gaze was troubled and a little sad as it rested on Eleanor de Montfort’s graceful figure. Joanna was confused by Eleanor’s coldness towards her, but decided she would avoid her too, just as she avoided her husband.
‘Uncle Gilbert says that with de Montforts it is all about money and land,’ Iohan told Joanna when they had a moment’s leisure together the next day in the great hall. ‘He says that is why the Earl of Leicester and his wife do not like us.’
They were standing side by side looking at the recently completed mural of the Wheel of Fortune, ordered by the King, depicting how a man might rise to sit on a throne on one turn of the wheel, and on the next rotation be toppled off the crest and replaced by an ambitious rival. Joanna gazed at the golden crown tumbling from the king’s head towards the ragged man at the foot of the cycle, reaching out to catch it as Fortuna, robed as a queen, rotated the handle.
‘But we have no money,’ she said.
‘De Montfort’s wife was once married to our uncle William.’
‘Yes, I know.’
Iohan puffed out his cheeks at having to explain. ‘When he died, she stood to inherit a third of his property in dower as his widow, but it was a vast amount. No one ever expected our uncle to die without a son, but he did. Our uncle Richard inherited, and agreed to pay her an annual sum of money instead of giving her the lands. Now he is dead too and the duty has fallen to Uncle Gilbert. De Montfort says the agreement took unfair advantage of the lady Eleanor when she was distraught with grief and the payment falls far short of her just due. He’s demanding more with interest, but Uncle Gilbert said yesterday that hell would freeze over before that happened.’ He screwed up his face. ‘You don’t have to do anything to annoy the Earl and Countess of Leicester except be a Marshal by connection. They hate all of us.’
‘But that’s not fair!’
Iohan shrugged. ‘But that is how it is. They say it isn’t fair to them and that Uncle Gilbert should pay a lot more. De Montfort is in debt up to his ears. He had to give a huge amount to the Pope to have the marriage recognised – he even had to borrow money from the Queen’s uncle.’
‘How do you know all this?’ Joanna demanded.
He looked nonchalant. ‘I pour wine, I run errands. I hear things.’ He eyed her sidelong. ‘I bet you do too, sitting at the Queen’s feet.’
Joanna said nothing and continued to study the Wheel of Fortune – the king and the fallen king.
‘Well, don’t you?’ Iohan prodded. ‘What does the Queen tell you?’
‘Cecily says that things overheard are like gold coins cast into a well,’ Joanna replied primly, ‘and that the person hearing them should make sure they stay at the bottom of the well for ever and not dredge them up for gain.’ She gave him a hard stare. ‘I would not repeat what the Queen says to anyone. It would be wrong. How would anyone trust me if I did?’
Iohan reddened and clenched his fists. ‘Well, I trust you, and what I tell you is for the good of our family, but I shan’t tell you anything ever again.’ He stalked off.
Joanna sighed; she did not want to lose his support, but she could not let him undermine her integrity.
Returning to the women, she picked up her sewing and sat quietly out of the way in the corner where she was less likely to hear things that she had to drop in the well and keep secret. Cecily joined her and gave her a discerning look. ‘What is the matter, child?’
