‘The King is disappointed that the match has not come to fruition, but will seek a different heiress for our ally. We have no desire to see the family negotiate for a French bride.’
Jeanette wondered why the Queen looked so disgruntled. It was a set-back, but not worth the dark expression on Philippa’s face. Lady Katerine on the other hand had perked up, even if her lips were set in a straight line.
The Queen took a deep breath. ‘One of the reasons Bernard d’Albret decided against the match was that he had heard reports of your conduct at court, and he feels his son will be better settled with a bride more likely to attend to her embroidery and her household affairs rather than spending her time flying hawks and being too familiar with servants and soldiers.’
Heat seared Jeanette’s face. ‘Madam, I—’
Philippa raised her hand. ‘I do not wish to hear excuses or reasons, and I must take part of the blame. We have all been too trusting and lax with you while I have been in confinement, but that will change immediately. You shall remain at my side and devote yourself to duties in the chamber. If you wish to visit your falcon, you shall go once a week with one of my squires and a senior lady, rather than just your maid for company. There are others who can attend to your bird. The groom will exercise your horse and others shall run errands for the moment. Once the King returns, we shall decide what is to be done to secure you a fresh match.’
A feeling of sick panic rose inside Jeanette. She would suffocate in such a caged existence. She needed to see Thomas; she had to get word to him. Bowing her head, she feigned a contrition she was far from feeling.
Philippa waved her hand. ‘I do not know what else to say. You have such potential, yet you squander it. It is time you took responsibility for your position at court. Do I make myself clear?As has been said to you before, you are a woman now, not a spoiled child.’
‘Yes, madam, and I beg your forgiveness.’ The words emerged by rote, while Jeanette’s mind raced.
‘Good. Then we shall say no more. You shall remain in this chamber under strict supervision as of now.’ She gave Jeanette a hard stare. ‘I suspect it will also assist matters that certain household knights are under orders to leave immediately for England to assist with mustering the fleet.’
Jeanette drew a sharp, involuntary breath, and her chest constricted. She dared not ask the names of the knights, but she already knew.
‘You shall eat here today in my chamber, not in the hall,’ Philippa continued, gently relentless. ‘Now, go and join the other ladies and we shall speak no more on the matter.’
Jeanette curtseyed, and feeling as though she was dragging a lump of lead behind her, went to the other women. She had to talk to Thomas.
Katerine of Salisbury sat down beside her and picked up her embroidery. ‘It is for your own good, my dear, as you will come to realise in time,’ she said, her blue eyes sharp. ‘I am sorry the Gascony marriage is not to be, but another match will be forthcoming soon enough. I shall write to your mother straight away.’
Katerine’s smug expression worried Jeanette: the Countess of Salisbury was a schemer with her claws in many a cloth.
She tried to busy herself with her sewing, but pricked her finger on her needle. The sight of the welling crimson bead of blood made her stomach writhe, and she had to bolt for the latrine, where, leaning over the shaft, she was violently sick.
Katerine, like a hound on a scent, followed her and gave her doubled-over body a thoughtful look. ‘Clearly you have eaten something that has not agreed with you,’ she said. ‘Toomany sweetmeats, I suspect. That would explain your recent behaviour. Your humours have become badly unbalanced by a surfeit of rich food and excitement. Go and lie down. You can finish your sewing later. I shall prepare you a tisane to set matters right.’
Jeanette was immediately suspicious of Katerine’s kindness, but was glad to go and curl up on her bed. What a bind she was in, and Thomas too. If he was suspected of more than flirting, the King would have him put to death, whether she was wearing a wedding ring or not.
Hawise arrived, bearing a cup of spring water.
‘I have to get word to Thomas,’ she whispered, gripping the maid’s hand.
‘They won’t let me go either,’ Hawise whispered back, ‘not even to see John, but Hannekyn can take a message.’ She gestured at one of the young chamber attendants who always blushed when Jeanette spoke to him.
Jeanette nodded. ‘Send him with a message for John asking him to care for Frederick until I can fly him again, and that I shall count each moment until that time. John will know what it means.’
Hawise curtseyed and went about her usual business, but approached Hannekyn after a while, murmured to him and pressed a coin into his hand. Moments later, the youth collected his cloak and left on his errand.
Jeanette slept briefly but was woken by Hannekyn’s return. The young man hung up his cloak and murmured to Hawise, who then came to Jeanette’s bedside, her eyes bright with sympathetic tears.
‘Messire Thomas and his brother have already sailed for England,’ Hawise said. ‘John is staying to care for the falcons and he said to give you this.’ She pressed a falcon’s hood intoJeanette’s hand decorated with a soft tuft of pheasant feathers. ‘He says to look inside.’
Horrified that Thomas was gone, Jeanette shook her head from side to side. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No!’
‘I am sorry, my lady, but it is so.’
Jeanette bit back a howl of anguish, knowing she dared not react. After a moment, she looked at the little hood in her hand, and put two fingers into the soft leather where she felt a small, round, hard object pressed up against the end seam that proved to be a tightly rolled ribbon of parchment. Unwinding it, she read the words, cramped, smudged and written in haste. Thomas exhorted her to be brave and staunch, and said that with God’s help he would be with her again soon, but he had no choice except to obey the King’s order in the immediate moment.
After what the Queen had said, she felt sick with terror for Thomas’s life. This scrap of a note might be the last thing she ever had of him apart from the child growing in her womb, for which she would be disgraced. ‘What will become of us?’ she whispered, feeling overwhelmed by the welter of recent events and how alone she suddenly was. They were doomed. She pleated the parchment back into the falcon hood and put it in her jewel casket with her rings and brooches. Then she curled up again on her bed and drew out the ribbon on which Thomas’s belt pendant was threaded, and beside it, his gold seal ring – her wedding ring. She gripped both in her hand, imprinting their shapes into her flesh.
Katerine arrived, bearing a cup filled with a steaming tisane. ‘Come,’ she said briskly, ‘I have prepared this to balance your humours.’
Jeanette turned her head away, and Katerine’s voice became stern.
