‘I fear many will starve,’ Joanna gave little William to his nurse. ‘The hall is full every day and more come to the gates.’
‘It is the same at Westminster. There is nothing to eat lest it be fish from the river. All the wild birds have been netted and eaten and even dogs, cats and rats. I can only stay a day. I have to be back at court for Parliament but I wanted to make sure you and the children were safe and well.’
‘We are.’ She organised the grain to be taken to a barn under guard. ‘I can only offer you hard bread and cheese,’ she said as she led him into the keep, ‘and little enough of that, but we have some wine.’
‘That will do. You will find other supplies on the cart – a few eggs and some barrels of herring.’
They went to the private chamber, and William sat down before the hearth to remove his boots and inner socks. His feet were white and clenched with cold, apart from red, swollen chilblains. Joanna brought a bowl of warm, scented water to soak his feet, and gave him a cup of wine heated with spices. He folded his hands around the cup and blew on the surface. Weazel rubbed around his stool and chirruped a greeting. He stroked the cat and pulled his hand gently up his fluffy banner of a tail.
‘I am beginning to wonder if spring will ever arrive. It is nearly April now and still we shiver as if it is January. They are saying it is God’s punishment on the kingdom and the King.’
‘Who is saying?’
William shrugged. ‘The rumours originate all around. It’s always someone’s servant who hears it from another servant. There is discontent among the barons though. It will come to a head when Parliament convenes because the King will ask for money and no one will accommodate him. Everyone will be summoned to military service against the Welsh, and then of course we have the matter of the French truce. It’s a vipers’ nest, and so many tangled up that you don’t know where to begin cutting off the heads and you know you will be bitten before you have completed the task – but still you have to try.’
‘I could return to court,’ Joanna volunteered.
William shook his head. ‘Later perhaps. First I want you to move some of our assets – both goods and coins.’
Joanna stared at him, suddenly alert.
‘It is just a precaution,’ he said quickly. ‘It is prudent in these times to keep some resources well concealed. I am going to lodge some funds with the monks at Waltham Abbey and some at the Temple, and then Winchester and Southwark. Better to keep it separate and have funds that only we know about. I have been thinking about it for a while now – ever since … well, for a while now.’
Ever since Jacomin died. She did not have to think hard to follow his reasoning. Although perturbed, she could see the sense in what he said. ‘There’s the abbey at Dene,’ she said. ‘It is no distance from Goodrich and the abbot is a good neighbour. He will help, and no one will think of looking there.’
‘That is a good idea,’ William said with an approving nod. ‘And some of the manors – Bampton and Sutton perhaps.’
‘Do not worry, I will see to it.’
She dried his feet and rubbed them with some aromatic unguent, her touch deft. William groaned. ‘Ah, that is good. Joanna, you are a woman without equal.’
‘I know,’ she said, with amusement. Glancing up along his body she saw clear evidence of just how good he thought it was.
He unfastened her veil, drawing out the golden pins, then stroked her hair. ‘So smooth,’ he murmured, ‘and it always smells of roses. I dream of your hair, and when I do, I wake up wanting you so much that I ache.’
Heat settled in Joanna’s pelvis, heavy and melting. She continued rubbing his feet, admiring their shape, the fine, pale arch. She stroked the hair on his shins. ‘I wonder why your hair here is not as curly as it is on your head,’ she murmured.
‘I do not know, for it is curly elsewhere.’ Taking her hand, he drew it to his groin. ‘Why is your own hair straight on your head and not elsewhere?’
They moved to the bed and made love with urgency, lust and joy. She felt him full and hard, moving within her, and she became a part of him, as he became a part of her. He gasped her name in crisis and she gripped his shoulders and hung on for dear life. And then she was falling back into Joanna and returning to the world with his sweat and hers cooling on her skin. He pulled the coverlet over their shoulders and spoke soft love words, and she snuggled into him. There were times when she enjoyed having the bed to herself – usually when they had been together for a long time and space increased its value – but for now she craved the closeness.
A sudden soft weight landed in the space between them, accompanied by a low rumbling sound, and then a rhythmic kneading motion on the coverlet. ‘I suppose you let that animal sleep on the bed when I am not here,’ William said wryly.
Joanna made a shrugging motion. ‘There are already furs on the bed, what is another one? He has the advantage of being warm.’
‘You don’t need him when I am here to do that.’ He scooped up the cat and deposited him on the floor. ‘Shoo, go and catch mice.’
Weazel stalked off in high dudgeon to sit on William’s discarded shirt and groom his fur, while William folded himself against Joanna’s body and closed his eyes.
By morning the rain had stopped, although the threat of another deluge still hung in the low grey clouds. Some of the grain had been ground in the mill and Joanna and William sat in their chamber to break their fast on fresh warm bread and honey. Joanna had plaited her hair, but wore no veil, and William kept sending her admiring looks.
‘I will start work this morning on what we discussed,’ she said as he eventually rose and dusted crumbs from his tunic. Elias appeared to help him don a thicker tunic for travel and then brought his cloak and hat.
‘Good, I will have my stewards write to you.’
‘I will also see to the distribution of grain,’ she said, ‘and see that the most depleted manors are supplied.’
He latched his belt and pulled her close for a kiss. ‘I wish I could stay. I will think of you every day and send messages often.’
