‘Now you wish you had not,’ Hawise said.
Jeanette flashed her an angry look, but then her face crumpled. ‘I wish it had been different,’ she said tearily. ‘Now I have even less reason to go to Gascony if this is what it is . . .’ She looked at Hawise. ‘Have you and the falconer . . .’
Hawise reddened. ‘No,’ she said. ‘But almost . . .’
‘I did not realise; I did not understand . . . I still don’t.’ She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. ‘Whatever happens, I am not going to Gascony,’ she said vehemently. ‘I swear it on my soul.’
Hawise looked alarmed. ‘My lady, you should not say—’
Jeanette laughed bitterly. ‘Oh, I have gone far beyond “should not”!’
At a loss, Hawise picked up the chemise. ‘I shall go and deal with this, my lady.’
Jeanette nodded, and Hawise left, a little tight-lipped.
Jeanette went out to join the other ladies and picked up some sewing, keeping her head down, not looking at anyone, feeling sick.
Thomas was absent for the next two days, busy with essential military matters, but he dined in the Queen’s hall on the third day at noon. Jeanette had no opportunity to speak with him, for he was in a different part of the hall with the soldiers. Their eyes met several times though, assessing, cautious. After the meal,the Queen summoned Jeanette to rub her feet, and then to read to her, but at last she managed to gain permission to visit her hawk.
‘Do not be too long,’ Philippa said. ‘Be back before sunset.’
‘Yes, madam.’ Jeanette curtseyed and was out of the door in an instant, fastening her cloak as she flew, Hawise hurrying in her wake.
In the mews, John de la Salle was busy with his apprentice, but there was no sign of Thomas. ‘He has gone to his lodgings to reckon with some accounts,’ John said.
Jeanette turned to Hawise. ‘I have to see Thomas alone,’ she said. ‘Stay here with John. He won’t say anything – no one will know.’
‘My lady, you should not do this.’ Hawise shook her head in alarm. ‘It is too dangerous! What if someone does find out?’
‘They won’t,’ Jeanette said stubbornly. ‘Quick, give me your cloak and take mine, and wait in the mews.’
Hawise reluctantly did as Jeanette asked, persuaded by the opportunity to spend time with John, and not in a position of power to refuse. Jeanette swung Hawise’s plain woollen cloak round her shoulders and pulled up the collar to form a shallow hood.
‘I shan’t be long.’
‘Be sooner than that, my lady,’ Hawise replied anxiously.
Jeanette hurried to Thomas’s lodging in the compound, her stomach churning, but her step determined. His sturdy manservant Duncalfe opened the door to her knock, and frowned at her.
‘I am here to see your master on a personal matter,’ she said.
Duncalfe’s gaze darted and she stood firm, ready to argue, but Thomas came to the door. ‘Leave us,’ he told his manservant. ‘But stay on guard and give me good warning of any approach.’
‘Sir,’ Duncalfe said, phlegmatically, and without looking at Jeanette, stepped outside, easing his way past her.
Thomas stood aside and Jeanette entered the chamber. Parchments were piled on a trestle table near the window. Thomas’s cloak lay across the end of his bed, which was neatly made and smooth.
‘Do not tell me I should not be here,’ she said before he could speak. ‘I know what I am risking, and that it involves your life too. You said we should talk, so talk we shall. I hope your manservant is trustworthy.’
‘He is,’ Thomas said shortly. ‘Unto death.’ He barred the door, went to the wine jug on the table and poured a measure into his cup. ‘We shall have to share.’
Jeanette sat on his bed, removed her own cloak and put it on top of his. ‘I shall happily set my lips to the same place as yours – after all, we have already shared so much more.’
He handed her the cup and regarded her with troubled eyes. ‘I have taken from you what can never be returned, and for that I am deeply sorry and ashamed, for it is a stain on my honour that has dishonoured you also.’
‘I told you, I am not sorry.’ She lifted her chin, defiant because she was scared. ‘Done is done, and better you than a Gascon boy. You have been my first, paid for in blood, and that can never be changed.’
He tensed at her fierceness. ‘But it was still dishonourable, and I would not have wished it to happen like that.’
