He took his leave. Jeanette curtseyed, kept her eyes lowered and busied herself folding and tidying, making herself useful and unobtrusive, while pondering the implications of what she had just seen.
20
Windsor Castle, Berkshire, January 1344
In the morning the Earl was still in great pain and feverish, but able to drink some spring water from a silver cup and to sip the broth that Katerine spooned into his mouth. While all the attention was on the patient, Jeanette collected her cloak and quietly left the room.
Outside, a brightness in the grey overcast of cloud suggested that the sun might eventually break through. The gardens lay through a small postern gate beside the sumpter horse stables. Otto stood near the postern, talking to Henry de la Haye as if in casual conversation. He glanced her way and nodded his head. She returned his greeting and slipped into the garden as stealthily as a cat.
Thomas was sitting on a bench at the far end, gazing at the hoar frost silvering the grass, his stillness a surprise, when usually even if at rest he was busy with his fingers, mending harness, cleaning his armour or whittling wood.
He looked up and a tide of love and longing swept through her. She spoke his name, saw her own name form on his lips, and then he sprang to his feet and in a dozen strides reached her and pulled her into his arms. She dug her hands into his hair andthey kissed, wildly, moltenly, with utter desperation, then pulled apart, panting, and stared at each other.
‘We have to make this right,’ he said, vehemently. ‘All I think about is you. Nothing in my life makes any sense but wanting you.’
She folded her arms inside her cloak. The grass, hung with droplets of melting frost, struck cold through her thin indoor shoes. ‘I cannot stand this pretence of a marriage,’ she said with a shudder. ‘You are my true husband. I have waited and I am still waiting – sometimes I wonder if it is all in vain.’
‘No, never that! I swear I will unbind you whatever it takes!’
‘And how long will “whatever it takes” be?’ she asked in desperation.
‘I wish I could say tomorrow, but I cannot, even though I swear I will do it and we shall be together.’ He took her hand and squeezed it. ‘How is the Earl?’
‘A little better. He is awake and aware, but in great pain.’
Thomas’s expression clouded. ‘Before the tourney he offered me money and lands to walk away from my claim to our marriage and warned me that the King would not listen if I told my tale, and that he would personally ensure that my career foundered if I took matters further. At best I would be dismissed from service, and at worst, punished in darker ways. So now I must keep my distance, lest the details emerge and people think I had a hand in his death.’
She put her hand to her mouth. ‘Dear God.’
‘I doubt God has anything to do with any of this,’ he said grimly. ‘If the Earl dies, your husband will become a royal ward of whoever the King chooses to bestow custody – although it will probably be his mother. She will not want to give you up, but even so, her power has limitations.’
‘I do not know,’ Jeanette said, and told him about the moment she had observed between Katerine and the King. ‘Evenif nothing more, they have deep affection for each other and she will use it to her advantage, and the Earl of Salisbury is his close friend. The King will be persuaded by his own needs, not mine or yours.’
Thomas frowned in thought. ‘There will still be opportunities to make a name for myself and to raise my status – if I become invaluable to the King in battle and acquire some wealthy ransoms.’
Jeanette said nothing, for his strategy depended on his success in war – always a great risk – and the Salisburys, even if the Earl died, already had royal support and patronage.
‘I am going to take our case to the papal court.’
‘The papal court?’ She looked at him in surprise.
‘The English Church will not listen unless they receive orders from the Pope. They are in the pay of the King and we would not receive a fair hearing. But it requires a deep purse to reach the Pope.’ He set his jaw. ‘We shall win in the end, whatever it takes.’
They embraced again, with tender desperation, but when they parted Jeanette looked over her shoulder. ‘We should go before people miss us. I don’t want to, but we must – for both our sakes.’
‘I promise you,’ he reiterated. ‘I swear on my oath as a knight that we shall be together as lawful husband and wife.’
She nodded, wanting to believe, but it was such a high mountain to climb and they were still in the foothills. She stood on tip-toe to kiss him again, then broke from him and hurried away, trying not to think on how long a promise might take to accomplish, or how easily it could be broken.
Otto and Henry were still outside, but now talking to Prince Edward, who looked at her askance and raised his brows. Heat flooded Jeanette’s cheeks as she performed a swift curtsey.
‘How is the Earl this morning?’ he enquired, to the point.
‘He is not well, but he has taken a little wine and some broth,’ she answered, breathlessly. ‘I must go to him; you will excuse me.’
He looked after her thoughtfully, frowned at Otto and Henry, and with sudden decision, entered the garden.
Thomas, who had been giving Jeanette time to leave so they would not be seen together, regarded the approach of the young heir to the throne with sinking dismay. Edward’s expression was neutral, but his eyes were cynical and knowing.
