Philippa settled against her cushions. ‘I have asked you to come to me because the King and I have been reconsidering the matter of your future.’
Jeanette almost choked on her last bite of pastry, and had to take a hasty swallow of her wine.
‘It is unfortunate that the Gascon marriage was not to be, and let the reasons why remain in the past. We expected too much of you then.’ Philippa gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Now you are older and wiser and it is seemly that you should marry and have a husband to care for. Your mother’s brother has approached us on behalf of your family and the groom’s family has also signalled their intent for their son.’ Philippa’s eyes twinkled. ‘I believe this time the young man will be a perfect match for you, and you know him well.’
Jeanette was still swallowing convulsively and struggling to breathe. Dear Holy Virgin, was she going to speak of Thomas and allow them to wed?
‘Come, have a guess at his identity,’ Philippa teased.
‘Madam, I cannot think,’ Jeanette replied in a strangled voice.
‘Your uncle and your mother are delighted, I can tell you.’
The sudden flash of hope in Jeanette’s breast vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Not Thomas then.
Philippa tilted her head. ‘I see I have overwhelmed you. I know you will be pleased, for he is a handsome young man with a promising future, and an earldom to inherit in time. Come now, not even the smallest notion?’
Jeanette looked down at her hands and shook her head. ‘No, madam.’
‘Oh, I do not believe that – you are not a fool. Take another drink, my dear, and steady yourself. When you have dwelt as a maiden for so long, it is a daunting thing to become a wife, but you have nothing to fear. You will be a married woman, with your own household, and dare I say it, as many dogs and hawks as you wish – and children in the fullness of time, of course.’
Jeanette took another sip of the wine, and shuddered.
Philippa straightened against her pillows and clucked her tongue in a show of impatience. ‘You are to wed William Montagu at Langley before Lent and we shall hold a fine wedding at court. What do you say?’
Jeanette almost retched. She could not marry when she was already a wife, but she dared say nothing to the Queen because of the consequences, especially not with Katerine of Salisbury standing smiling beside her, knowing what she knew. She needed time to think. ‘I do not know what to say, madam,’ she whispered.
Philippa’s eyes narrowed. ‘Come now, are you not just a little bit pleased?’
Jeanette gulped. ‘Yes, madam,’ she said numbly. Dear God, this was the end of the world!
Philippa’s expression lost its smiling generosity. ‘I must tell you that the King is looking forward to your delight in this match after all the trouble over the last proposal. I know your mother is hoping for great things, as is the Countess of Salisbury. We shall announce the betrothal tomorrow, by which time I hope you will have thought upon your great good fortune. In due course you shall be the Countess of Salisbury yourself and hold an exalted position at court. For now, you may go.’ With a wave of her hand, she dismissed Jeanette, clearly irritated and out of sorts.
Katerine took her arm as they curtseyed out of the Queen’s presence. ‘For once in your spoiled life, do as you are bidden with good grace,’ she hissed. ‘We both know what lies in yourpast and you would not wish it brought to light for your sake and that of others. You are being given a second chance and you shall not throw it away.’
Jeanette wrenched free of Katerine’s grip. ‘It is no second chance,’ she retorted. ‘Indeed, I never had a first one!’
Katerine pressed her lips together and escorted her not back to the festivities but to her own chamber, and instructed her women to watch Jeanette. ‘I fear she is overwrought and may exhibit signs of hysteria,’ she said. ‘If she does, then give her one of my tisanes.’
Jeanette sat down numbly on her bed, clenching her emotion tightly inside. The last thing she wanted was to be forced to drink one of Katerine’s horrible potions.
Hawise arrived to tend to her, and as she removed the pins from Jeanette’s hair, Jeanette said flatly, ‘The King and Queen have arranged my marriage. I am to wed William Montagu within the month.’
Hawise stared. ‘How can you when you are already wed to Sir Thomas?’ she whispered, glancing round.
Jeanette shook her head. ‘He is not here to support my claim, and how can I stand on my own in his absence?’ She seized the pillow off the bed and pressed it to her body. ‘Even if I send a message to Thomas, it won’t reach him for months, if ever. I do not know where he is. If I consent to this marriage, it is a mortal sin and I am going against my vows and against God. Whichever way I turn I am trapped!’ She shuddered. ‘William Montagu is a vile brat. I would not wed him in a hundred years even if I was free to do so!’ She rocked back and forth, over the pillow. ‘What am I to do? They are announcing the betrothal tomorrow.’
‘A betrothal can be annulled,’ Hawise said, ‘as can a marriage. You have a copy of the contract in your coffer. You have me as a witness.’
‘Yes, but the other witnesses are scattered. John is with Thomas, as are Otto and Henry. If you spoke up without Thomas here, who would believe you? Indeed, you would endanger yourself. Father Geoffrey is possibly still in Ghent, but it would take weeks to find him. And to whom should I show the contract?’
Hawise sat down and folded an arm around Jeanette’s shoulders in hopeless reassurance. ‘There is nothing you can do tonight, my lady, but we shall think of something.’
Words intended to comfort, but bearing no structure or certainty. She could run away, but they would find her and punish her. Part of her wished she had never met Thomas, and she was angry with him that yet again he had left her to deal with trouble alone, but even if their affair had never happened, she would still be confronted by the unpalatable fact that they were expecting her to marry a boy she loathed – to live as his wife and bear his children. The thought of having to lie with him sickened her.
The only glimmer of hope was that her marriage to Thomas meant that if they forced her into this match with Montagu, it would be invalid. It wouldn’t be the truth ever, and that gave her the smallest spark of bleak and desolate relief.
In the morning Jeanette was presented to the King and Queen after mass to make the betrothal with both families bearing witness. Her mother was smiling with satisfaction – indeed everyone seemed inordinately pleased. Jeanette’s brother John was present, her mother’s brother, Thomas Wake, and Prince Edward too. William Montagu stood tall and proud with a smile on his lips, and eyed Jeanette like a cat that had caught a mouse and was about to play with it.
