‘Perhaps, but it is a warning to tread carefully and not to cross the Queen, or Boniface. They could still do much damage.’
‘I know, and I will have a care.’
Joanna took his hand and placed it on her belly. ‘As you must, for you will have yet more responsibility as a father in the early summer.’
He looked her up and down and began to smile. ‘That is wonderful news!’
‘And God willing, let the new little one be born into a life of peace and stability,’ she said firmly.
Joanna knelt before the Queen’s chair and bowed her head. ‘I have returned from attending the confinement of the Countess de Warenne,’ she said, ‘and I hope to serve you while I am at court.’
Alienor rose and gave Joanna the kiss of peace. ‘And I am pleased to see you returned,’ she said, her manner reserved, but at least with some warmth in her eyes, ‘and glad to have your service. Let us put what has happened behind us.’
‘Yes, madam, I would be glad of it.’
‘Good, then it is settled. Come and rub my feet as you used to do.’
Joanna obeyed, fetching a footstool, and kneeling at the Queen’s feet with a small pot of oil of roses.
Three days ago, on the feast of the Epiphany, the Queen had presented two jewelled belts to William and Aymer and they had reciprocated with a fine set of silver plate and candlesticks for her chamber. For now, an uneasy peace reigned. The royal couple themselves had mended their quarrel and were like two turtle doves. Resolving their differences had rekindled their romantic interest in each other.
The landscape, however, had changed for Joanna. She was wary of Alienor, for she had seen how easily they could become enemies, and the root cause was William and his brothers. William and Aymer had been charming youths when they arrived at court and no threat to the Queen’s power. Now they were virile, experienced men. Edward looked up to William in a way he did not look up to his father, and as he grew, he was turning away from his parents and gravitating towards his dashing Lusignan uncles. The rapprochement following the quarrel was supposed to be a new start, but it seemed thin to Joanna and lacking in trust. She might rub the Queen’s feet and perform other duties with a smile, but the whole-heartedness had gone from her service.
23
Portsmouth, Hampshire, August 1253
Henry’s fleet rode at anchor, waiting the morning tide to set sail for Gascony. Tonight, the stars pinpointed the gloaming and a cool breeze shivered the surface of the sea lapping against the strakes of the assembled cogs and galleys.
Sitting over a meal in their lodging, Joanna gazed intently at William and tried to fix his features in her mind, knowing they would be apart for several months. Beyond that awareness lay a darker knowledge that he was going to war in Gascony. Henry had plans for a lasting peace and was arranging a marriage between Edward and the half-sister of their rival for the province, Alphonso, King of Castile, but the details were still being brokered. There was a rebellion to quell and groundwork to be laid.
Joanna was staying behind, having recently been churched following the birth of their second daughter, Margaret. Queen Alienor was remaining too as acting regent with the aid and counsel of the King’s brother, Richard of Cornwall. She expected a child in the late autumn, the result of the reconciliation between her and Henry, but was not going to let such a detail prevent her from governing.
Joanna intended visiting her lands in the Marches centred around Goodrich for the remainder of the summer and autumn. She had building works to oversee, and she wanted to spend time away from the court for a while.
Having finished their meal, Joanna and William retired to bed. Tomorrow they would make a public farewell, but tonight was for private goodbyes.
‘I am going to miss you,’ William said, unfastening the laces on her gown.
‘As I will miss you too.’ Saying the words brought Joanna’s emotions to the surface and she had to blink back tears.
‘I will write to you, I promise.’
She ran her hands over his chest. ‘And I will write also, but it will not be the same. It will be like sailing in a ship that is tilted and I will always be looking over the side for you. Come back to me, whole, you promise?’
‘I promise, God willing.’ He pushed her chemise off her shoulders. ‘You and the children give me an overwhelming reason.’
She curled her arms around his neck and they took each other to bed and made love with tender abandon. Afterwards, while William slept, Joanna quietly left him and went to pray at the small portable altar set up in her chamber, beseeching God to keep him safe and protect him from harm.
Joanna and the children arrived at Goodrich Castle on a warm day in mid-August. Joanna inhaled deeply of the fresh air and her sense of constriction started to fall away. Guards saluted her arrival as the covered cart rolled through the great gates into the courtyard. The servants had travelled ahead to make everything ready for her arrival.
Stepping from the cart, she faced the great rectangular keep, flanked by timber service buildings, and smiled as she gazed at the solid stone tower and the highest window arches decorated with chevron zig-zags. ‘See,’ she said to Iohan, taking his hand. ‘Your great-grandmother lived here. Her name was Aoife and she came from far away in Ireland. We shall sleep up there tonight, safe and secure.’
The nursemaids in tow, Joanna climbed the great tower with the children, up and up, pausing on the wedge stairs, peering into the chambers with their swept floorboards and empty hearths. They came to the room where Joanna’s great-grandmother, the Countess Aoife, had dwelt in her widowhood.
A fire had been kindled with a small cauldron set ready at the side to cook pottage. Joanna’s brass washing bowl stood on a chest by the bedside and the floor had been covered with woven rush matting and sheepskin rugs. A jug stood in one of the window embrasures, filled with roses and marigolds from the small castle garden. The beds had been prepared with fresh linen sheets. Joanna looked round, drawing a deep breath tasting of musty air and flower petals. Much needed to be done, but the prospect filled her with relish rather than dismay. This place was a home, a refuge, a project. The connection had sparked within her the moment the cart rumbled through the gateway.
A latrine stood at the far end of the chamber and another doorway, partly open, blew a cool draught into the room. Iohan ran to it and peered upwards, then started to climb, lithe as a monkey. Joanna hurried after him and in moments emerged on to the battlements where a wide vista of woods and gently sloping fields greeted her through the crenel gaps. A strange sensation filled her – of knowing, of coming home. Raising her face to the cool wind, she felt it sweep around her like an embrace, flowing energy into her body.
