‘A cold morning for a tryst,’ Edward said, ‘especially with William Montagu’s wife, and your lookouts posted. You should be careful; people might easily misconstrue what they see.’
Thomas heard censure in Edward’s tone, but no outright hostility. The young man’s voice had but recently broken, but was going to be deep and strong once developed. He was whippet-thin, all arms and legs as he grew into manhood, but he had a mature outlook for his years. Thomas had undertaken some of his training before the tourney and had been impressed with his abilities. Now he had to decide whether he could trust him.
‘Sire, I confess that this was a prearranged meeting with the lady Jeanette, away from prying eyes, but it was not dishonourable even if it was in secret.’
‘Indeed? Then I think you must disclose the reason for that secret to me, for William Montagu is my friend and Jeanette is my father’s cousin. My father is considering lending you to my household and it will depend on my response. I can put in a word, or say nothing. From where I am standing, your actions are less than honourable.’
Thomas clenched his fists, caught on the horns of a dilemma. Transferring to the Prince’s household held great appeal to him, for this young scion was the future.
The Prince wrapped his hands around his belt. ‘Jeanette and I were childhood playmates and friends as well as kin. I would never want any harm to come to her, and if anyone attempted to do so, I would defend her like a lion.’
‘Then we share the same goals, sire,’ Thomas replied.
‘Will once told me that Jeanette believes in some fanciful way that she is married to you. He says it is untrue and the result of a girlish fantasy, but now I come upon you making a tryst with her in the garden. You tell me that such a meeting is not dishonourable, and it leads me to ask if you and Jeanette are truly wed?’
‘Yes, sire, at Saint Bavo before witnesses almost four years ago.’
‘But in secret?’ His tone was censorious. ‘You told no one?’
Thomas flushed. ‘No,’ he said, and hesitated.
‘Go on,’ Edward said, frowning.
‘We had lain together and I wanted to be honourable, so I made it right. But then I was summoned to England by your father.’ He did not mention the child, for it was not a necessary part of the narrative and Edward did not need to know. ‘I left my will at Saint Bavo in Ghent with instructions that my worldly goods were to go to Jeanette in the event of my death, and I had it witnessed, the same day as my marriage.’
Edward’s gaze widened.
‘But then Jeanette was sent home and a match arranged for her with William Montagu while I was absent. They told her I was dead.’ Thomas touched his scarred face. ‘I am not proud of what happened. Indeed, I am sorry that it did, and I admit my dishonour in lying with Jeanette, but it does not alter our love for each other, or that we were married in the sight of God. Her family and her marital family deny such a marriage ever took place, that it was false and dishonourable, but such a stance isthe very reverse of the truth we know. When Jeanette has tried to speak out, she has been silenced with threats and disbelief.’
‘Some would say you married Jeanette in order to further your own career,’ Edward said curtly.
Thomas snorted. ‘How far has it got me if that is the case? I would have to be mad to think it would benefit me! I married her to try and make a dishonourable thing more honourable – and because I do truly love her. I took the cross to atone for my sins and to make a fresh start. When I returned, I was going to confess to your father, but by the time I set foot in England, matters had progressed far beyond that.’
‘I take it you have sure proof of the marriage?’
‘Yes, I do, and I have talked to John de Warenne on the matter since he has much knowledge of the law. To have any chance of winning Jeanette, I will have to take my case to Avignon, and that means to the order of Saint Silver and Saint Gold.’
‘And you would not walk away? That too might be deemed honourable in some quarters, and a matter of common sense.’
Thomas shook his head. ‘Jeanette has asked me to rescue her and I promised I would do all in my power. Besides, how would I walk away from a holy vow? If she had told me to let her be and to go, I would have done so, even while damning my soul. But she desires to remain my wife.’
‘It is certainly a dilemma,’ Edward said with knitted brows. ‘I will talk to Jeanette and see what she says. I cannot take your part or hers for William Montagu is my good friend, but I will keep my own counsel and say nothing of this to others. I advise you to do the same and not to approach my father for now. To bring this affair into the open would sully Jeanette’s reputation, and I care more for her than I do you.’ He cast a meaningful glance around the garden. ‘Your meeting with her today was foolish. What if others had discovered you?’
‘Her family has deliberately kept us apart – this was the only opportunity we had,’ Thomas answered defensively.
‘Even so, you should be more prudent for it seems to me you have already been many times careless thus far.’
Thomas reddened, feeling the sting of the words, and also the truth in them, and coming from a youth of just fifteen years. ‘I heed you, sire.’
‘Then we are done.’ Edward nodded brusquely. ‘I counsel you again to tread cautiously and to do nothing unless you are certain of your outcome.’
On the fourth morning after his accident, the Earl of Salisbury, who had been rallying, suddenly took a turn for the worse. The royal physician bled him several times to no avail, and the Earl became confused, incoherent, and then insensible. Jeanette stood at the foot of the bed, forced to be present in her role of daughter-in-law. The entire family had gathered at his bedside, listening to his breath rattle in his throat with longer and longer gaps between each one. Jeanette counted her own breaths, and wondered if his dying would be yet another lock securing her cage.
Katerine sat by her husband, blank-faced, lips moving in silent prayer. William stood behind her, rigidly upright, his jaw with its fledgling fluff of beard set so tightly that small tremors shuddered his rigidity. Behind him the windows were open to the chill January air, ready to receive the Earl’s soul, and despite the braziers, the room was icy.
The rasping breath stopped for a dozen heartbeats, then started again, ragged, stertorous, and the chaplain folded the Earl’s hands over a decorated cross.
A sudden flurry at the door heralded the King’s arrival, and Prince Edward with him. Brushing aside the bows and curtseys of obeisance, the King strode directly to the bedside. His glancecut across the dying man to Katerine. She averted her gaze but a soft flush crept from her throat into her face.
