As an autumn dusk fell over London, mist rising in curls of vapour from the river, Joanna entered the chamber the King had prepared for Edward’s new young wife. Candles and lamps imbued the room with a soft golden light and a hearty fire burned in the hearth. The white mantle canopy sported the image of winter portrayed as an old man in a heavy cloak who bore a certain resemblance to Henry, which Joanna suspected was a deliberate whimsy on the King’s behalf.
Red and gold fabric rugs in geometric patterns overlaid the rush matting covering the floor. Joanna had seen such rugs in Bordeaux, usually draped over furniture or on the dais under the King’s chair, but never to walk upon, because they were too rare and costly. However, Henry had spared no expense in preparing this chamber to honour his son’s wife.
To a trumpet fanfare of announcement, Joanna advanced to the royal chairs set on the dais and bent the knee. Henry sat in the middle, with the Queen on one side and his new daughter-in-law on the other. Henry rose and stooped to give her the kiss of peace, before taking her hand, and presenting her to Leonora of Castile.
Joanna curtseyed again, and Leonora bade her rise in fluent French, with a slightly exotic accent. A gown of olive-bronze silk, subtly embroidered, clung to her narrow figure. Leonora’s eyes were brown with a glint of amber surrounding the pupil and Joanna received an impression of intelligence and maturity; but then, if the rumours were true, the girl, at fourteen, had already been through a mill of experience.
‘Madam, I bid you welcome to England,’ Joanna said. ‘If I can be of assistance in any way, I shall gladly honour and serve you.’ She presented Leonora with a little carved ivory box filled with small nuggets of frankincense.
Leonora’s gaze brightened with pleasure. ‘You are thoughtful, my lady. My husband has spoken to me of you and his uncle, and expressed his fondness for both of you. I am pleased to meet you and I am sure we shall have much to talk about later.’
Joanna curtseyed and moved aside while others came forward to greet Edward’s young bride. Feeling Alienor’s gaze on her, Joanna determined to be discreet when cultivating this new, future Queen of England. Alienor was the dominant lioness for now and Leonora the kitten, even though it would change in time.
Over the next two months Joanna came to know Leonora, discovering her to be an interesting and delightful young woman. She was indeed kittenish and playful, but she had a serious side and possessed the intellect and understanding to absorb copious amounts of detail along several strands at once. She loved being outside and Joanna often walked with her around the palace and its environs, or accompanied her on horseback or in the royal barge. They strolled in the winter garden between beds of dark earth with everything dormant and the trees almost bare except for evergreens.
‘I love gardens,’ Leonora said wistfully. ‘In Castile we have many beautiful ones with fountains and flowers. I would spend my days in them if I could – they lift up my soul.’
Joanna nodded in agreement. ‘There is great pleasure in nurturing and watching things grow to fruition.’ She touched Leonora’s arm. ‘England must seem dank and colourless now in the winter, but wait until you see how green it is in spring.’
‘Edward has told me of this,’ Leonora said. ‘He has been delayed with other business in Gascony, but he will be here very soon. His father wants him to go to Ireland next, but he is coming to England instead – he is coming for me.’
Not wishing to be indiscreet, Joanna said nothing. If Henry was expecting Edward to go to Ireland and Edward was defying him in coming here, then the young lion was indeed flexing his muscles and taking matters into his own hands.
Leonora paused in front of a bare flower bed and gave Joanna a sidelong look from her lovely brown eyes. ‘When we were wed, we consummated the marriage,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ Joanna said gently, ‘I know.’
‘He did not force me, I want you to know that. We made the decision together, for once we consummated the marriage, it could not be dissolved. There is trouble between my brother and Edward’s father even now, but whatever happens, the marriage cannot now be annulled.’ A pink flush stained her cheeks. ‘When I first set eyes on Edward, I knew I was looking at the rest of my life, and Edward saw me the same. People say we are too young to understand, but we have been raised since birth to know who we are.’
Joanna’s heart went out to the girl. ‘I do understand. I was a little older than you, but I felt that way about my husband. A match where duty and compatibility mesh is a rare gift indeed.’
Leonora’s flush deepened. ‘We lay together in order to seal the bond, but also because we wanted to. My fluxes had been coming for half a year before the marriage, but we did not think I would get with child so quickly.’ She began walking again. ‘When it happened, we were shocked – but pleased. I bore our daughter in my sixth month, but she entered the world too soon. People said I would have died if I had carried her for nine months for my hips were not wide enough, but I grieve all the same. She was my flesh and Edward’s united.’
‘I am sorry,’ Joanna said. ‘It must have been terrible for you.’
Leonora wiped away a tear on the side of her hand and drew a steadying breath. ‘It was, but I must go forward. Edward and I know we must wait. When he returns, we shall not lie together in that way again until the time is ripe. We do not need chaperones and constant watching.’ She set her jaw. ‘If we are old enough to be wed, and to cope with the loss of a child, then we are old enough to deal in the world.’
Admiration filled Joanna for this fourteen-year-old young woman, barely beyond childhood, but a queen in the making, facing the world with courage. ‘If you need a friend and confidante, I am your aunt-by-marriage and I swear that whatever you say to me will go no further.’
Leonora gave her a sweet, genuine smile and touched her sleeve. ‘Thank you, and I shall think on it well and kindly, my aunt.’
‘Although I am afraid I shall be leaving court for a little while soon,’ Joanna said as they resumed their walk. ‘My sister-by-marriage, the Countess de Warenne, expects her third child soon and I am going to her for the birth.’
‘Then I wish her well,’ Leonora said, ‘and I shall hope to meet her after her churching.’
*
‘How is that half-brother of yours progressing?’ Aliza enquired.
Joanna looked up from the letter William had sent her from court which she was reading in the embrasure by candle light in Aliza’s confinement chamber at Lewes. Yesterday, Aliza had given birth to a healthy baby boy with a bellow on him like a young bull. This morning his proud, joyful father had borne him to the chapel where he had been baptised William to acknowledge all the Williams in his bloodline. Joanna had stood as his godmother. He had recently suckled heartily at the wet nurse’s breast, and now slept in his cradle at the bedside.
Joanna grimaced. ‘He has a quick mind, but he doesn’t use it except to be sullen and do all he can to thwart William’s efforts to train him. As far as he is concerned, this has been forced on him and he thinks he is perfectly capable of ruling his estates without being anyone’s ward.’ She sighed and shook her head. ‘He speaks to me when he must. At the Christmas court he spent all of his time with Simon de Montfort and his sons.’
‘Is it deliberate – because he knows you have no love for Simon de Montfort and that you are in dispute with him over his wife’s dower lands?’ Aliza asked shrewdly.
‘It is likely. He plays dice with Leicester’s squires and socialises with them and they encourage him. I am sure he spreads rumours and gossip about me and William, but he covers his tracks well. The more we take him to task, the more he rebels. William tries with him – you know how he hates giving up on anything – but I suspect that my half-brother will win this particular battle.’
‘William was difficult at that age too,’ Aliza said. ‘If my brothers thrashed him, it only increased his resentment and taught him to be more cunning. He was always better led with love, but I do not think from what I have heard that such a ploy will work with your half-brother.’
