Katerine of Salisbury had stuck to her like a limpet to a rock ever since making her drink that tisane and nursing her in the time afterwards. A week ago, her monthly bleed had come as usual, and Katerine had pronounced with satisfaction that all was now functioning as it should. Jeanette had barely left the Queen’s apartment during the last six weeks, and when she did, was so closely chaperoned that there had been no opportunity to send word to Thomas. Her life had become a prison.
13
Monastery of St Bavo, Ghent, July 1340
For the next week, Katerine kept Jeanette under close scrutiny. The Queen was too preoccupied with her husband’s return to concern herself with her ladies, but Katerine remained strict and watchful, ensuring Jeanette had no opportunity to approach any of the knights.
Letters arrived from Jeanette’s mother, exhorting her to continue with her lessons, to comport herself with dignity and not bring disgrace on her family. Feeling resentful and ashamed, Jeanette tore them up, and cried to herself. It was like being stuck in quicksand and sucked ever further down.
The times she did see Thomas among company, she was afraid, and when their eyes did meet she saw the growing bafflement and anger in his. He sent messages via John de la Salle and Hawise to meet him in the mews, but Katerine wouldn’t let her out of her sight and Jeanette was too heartsick to make the effort to abscond.
At the start of the following week, the Queen sent Jeanette and Hawise to the alms building with a basket of bread and cheese to hand out at the gate. Katerine was suffering from one of the bad headaches that came upon her sometimes, and hadbeen forced to lie down with a sick bowl at her side, her vigilance abandoned.
Jeanette gave the basket to the almoner, but as she turned to leave, Thomas arrived, and a white-hot bolt of panic shot through her. Thomas nodded to Hawise. ‘Give us a moment, mistress,’ he said, in such a way that Hawise curtseyed and left, with a worried look over her shoulder at her mistress.
‘Why have you been avoiding me?’ he demanded.
Feeling sick, Jeanette placed her hands on her belly like a shield. ‘I haven’t. The Countess of Salisbury watches me and gives me no opportunity. She is unwell today, and I am only here on a quick errand. I must go, or they will come looking.’
‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Stay, and tell me why you will not look at me and why you shun my company. You were busy enough before, yet you managed to find moments for us to be alone. What has changed? And do not take me for a fool!’
Jeanette crumpled inside at the expression on his face. She didn’t know what to say or do. ‘I do not have the courage to tell you.’
‘Tell me what?’ His gaze sharpened. ‘Have you forsaken me so soon while I have been in danger for my life? Have I been no more than an excuse to get you out of the Gascon marriage, and a plaything to while away your time?’
‘No, never that!’
‘Then why avoid me as you have been doing?’ he asked grimly. ‘What is it, then? Tell me – after all, we are husband and wife. You should share whatever is bothering you, and I will take the burden too.’
She shook her head again. ‘I . . . Oh dear God, Thomas. The Countess of Salisbury gave me a drink to balance my humours, and it brought on my flux. There is no child.’ She flushed with guilt, remembering the advice she had used at first that had not worked. ‘The Countess said the tisane would make me betterbecause I was being sick all the time. You were gone the day after our wedding, perhaps never to return, and they wouldn’t let me leave the Queen’s apartments. I had no help, no succour, no protection.’
‘You mean, the moment I was gone, you lost faith,’ he said with bitter accusation.
‘It wasn’t like that. You were not there,’ she repeated. ‘They knew we had been meeting. I was so afraid – and so alone.’
‘And now you will not come near me or speak to me?’
‘If I do, how long do you think you will live?’ she answered, with a flash of spirit. ‘Do you think they will not punish us both for this? Lady Katerine knew we had been lying together, I am certain. If she has not spoken of it to anyone else, it is because it would cause too great a scandal in the Queen’s household, and diminish her own influence. The Queen just thinks there has been an inappropriate flirtation, but if she were to learn the truth . . .’ She broke off and shook her head. ‘She would not be lenient.’
‘So where do we stand?’ he demanded. ‘Do you now deny your marriage vows? Are you still my wife?’
‘Of course I am!’
‘But you will not talk with me, and you turn your gaze, and the child is no more.’
She shook her head. ‘I fear for your life if they find out – and I want you in the world.’
‘Then how shall we ever live our lives as man and wife?’ he asked with impatient exasperation. ‘When shall it be known? You want me in the world, but you will not speak to me. What kind of a marriage is that?’
She swallowed, and dropped her gaze.
‘Look at me. At least afford me that courtesy.’
Scared, upset and ashamed, she raised her head and jutted her chin. ‘I thought you were going to speak to the King when you went to England, but clearly you did not.’
A red flush crawled up his own neck. ‘He warned me off before I could say anything. I know we must be careful, but when you turn your shoulder and behave as if I am nothing to you, what am I to do?’
‘I hear you have performed great deeds – the King will look on you with favour if you speak.’
