Henry gently touched her shoulder. ‘If you were a man I would have you as one of my ministers for that speech, my dearest sister,’ he said, blinking moisture from his eyes. ‘We shall see what can be done to remedy this state of affairs immediately.’ He turned to Hugh Bigod. ‘What say you, my lord?’
Joanna looked at her cousin, but could not divine his thoughts. She hoped John had been right in saying that Hugh would help her and that family came first.
‘Indeed, I would hate to see you destitute, cousin,’ Hugh said, frowning. ‘Perhaps there has been an oversight. I shall check most carefully to see if this is the case, and in the meantime, here are some funds for your immediate needs.’
He presented her with a pouch of silver, satisfyingly large and heavy. She knew from its weight that she could keep her household for a couple of weeks on the contents; but it still fell short of the sum to which she was entitled. She thanked him, feeling relieved, but cynical. At least this purse meant she did not have to delve into her other sources.
Henry said, ‘If you are troubled again, then ask and we shall see what may be done.’
‘Thank you, sire, I am grateful.’ She curtseyed again and withdrew with the pouch, feeling sick and besmirched at having to do this; she would be glad to leave when the time was ripe.
On her way to her chamber, she encountered her half-brother, swaggering towards her. He deliberately crossed her path, forcing her to stop, and gave her a thin smile, filled with mockery. She had heard he had been with Simon de Montfort’s sons in Boulogne in the summer, baiting William.
‘Sister, how are you faring?’ he asked. ‘I have barely seen you since we both returned to court.’
‘Well enough,’ she answered curtly and tried to continue on her way, but he moved with her, blocking her path, and indicated the pouch of money in her hand. ‘I am glad to see you have some allies to keep you from destitution. Know that I will look out for your welfare should anything befall your husband.’
Joanna set her jaw.
His smile deepened as he opened the pouch at his belt and removed five silver pennies. ‘This is all I have, but it might buy you some kindling and soup.’
Her first instinct was to dash it from his hand and slap his face, but she controlled herself. The coins would indeed buy what he said. She took them from him and looked him in the eye. ‘I will repay you,’ she said with quiet intensity. ‘Be certain of that.’
She stepped around him, and this time he let her go on her way. Joanna reached her chamber and cast the pennies into a small wooden box at her bedside. And then she washed her hands.
A fortnight later, Joanna was in the stables ostensibly checking her horses but in reality making sure that a delivery from one of her secret stores had been safely concealed. She was almost ready to seek permission to go to France and join William with her wool carts, and this was the last consignment. Satisfied, she was leaving the stables when a troop of horsemen arrived. Watching Simon de Montfort dismount, she became a little girl again, seeing him ride into the courtyard at Woodstock. Her gut lurched as she imagined him searching the stables and finding the several hundred silver marks stowed in sacks under the floor.
‘My lady de Valence,’ he said as he noticed her. ‘Skulking in the stables again?’
‘I was not skulking, sire,’ she replied, her icy dignity shielding her fear. ‘I have come to see my horses and talk to my grooms, or is that not permitted to me either these days?’
‘The King’s little pet mouse,’ he said with amused contempt. He cast a glance at the barrels of oats and piles of hay at the back of the mare’s stall. ‘It seems to me that in the reduced circumstances of your household you do not need to go to the expense of feeding all these animals. Your resources could be more profitably engaged.’
‘Horses are as much a part of my household as anything else,’ Joanna answered coldly. ‘None of them are warhorses so you cannot accuse me of keeping them for my husband’s use. There is my mare, and four horses for my attendants. There are my children’s mounts, two cart horses and two sumpters. I do not think the number excessive when measured against those of certain other ladies.’ Irritation filled her, because Simon de Montfort, for all his accusations of profligacy, had a much greater entourage than William’s.
De Montfort looked round, hands on hips. ‘It still seems extravagant to me. You could easily hire them at need. To diminish the amount of fodder you must pay for this winter you should sell two of those palfreys and the sumpters. The servants can ride in the cart anyway. What do servants need to ride for? You could sell the tack too. I will take the black and the bay palfrey and you will thank me not to have to feed them. I will pay you a fair price to help your strained circumstances.’
It would be foolish to refuse and she did not want to keep him longer in the stables than necessary. He watched her with a gleam in his eyes to see how she would respond – pushing her.
‘You are right, sire,’ she said. ‘I am hoping for permission to take my children and join my husband by Christmas. Do you think that might be possible? I have nowhere else to go.’
He gave her a calculating look. ‘I will talk to the King on the matter and in the meanwhile I will send my groom for the horses and have one of my clerks bring the payment to your chamber.’ He inclined his head and walked off.
Joanna’s groom, Joli, cleared his throat. ‘Forgive me, but did he just help himself to two of your horses, madam?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘He knows I cannot argue. He does not want me around the court, giving people consciences and being a nuisance, and he will make it difficult for me to remain. It matters not. Rather the horses than …’ She inclined her head towards the rear of the stable and Joli touched his forelock. He was one of the few who knew what was concealed.
Returning to her chamber, Joanna resolved to do her utmost to avoid Simon de Montfort. She would not visit the stables again unless necessary, and the sooner they left, the better.
John leaned back from the table and wiped his lips on a napkin. ‘For an impoverished woman, you keep a magnificent table,’ he said. ‘I need to loosen my belt.’ He slipped the leather a couple of notches.
Joanna smiled. ‘The King’s poultryman brought me the hen. It had stopped laying and my cook has the perfect recipe for simmering in wine with onions and mushrooms.’
‘Well, compliments to him,’ John said as she refilled his cup.
‘Have you brought … ?’
‘Yes,’ he said, and put a pouch of money on the table with a heavy clink. ‘That’s for the belt with the pearls and sapphires. You are taking all of this out in carts of wool?’
