‘A graceful and impassioned speech, as I would expect from you,’ Edward said with a glint of amusement through the ice. He shifted in his chair and his fingers ceased their drumming. ‘I acknowledge your value to me, and I have noted your loyalty. My son commends you, and endorses your pleas, as does the Queen in her heartfelt mercy, and I must take their sound advice into consideration. I would not wish to see you in penury and they have persuaded me to look on your request with favour.’
‘Thank you, sire.’ Thomas swallowed against the lump constricting his throat. How much, though?How much?
Edward hesitated and almost grimaced. Then drew a deep breath. ‘I have fixed the sum for Raoul de Brienne’s ransom at eighty thousand florins, to be paid in three instalments. The documentation is being drawn up.’
Thomas’s jaw dropped in astonishment. He wondered if he had misheard. The seneschal Robert de Tancarville’s ransom was only fixed at six hundred marks, and this sum outstripped it beyond belief. He could only stammer unintelligible words of gratitude, and Edward gestured impatiently.
‘Take yourself in hand, man,’ he said curtly. ‘I expect your unquestioning service and loyalty to me, my queen and our heirs for the rest of your life. I hope it solves your dilemma to do as you must.’ He leaned back in the chair. ‘And while you are valuable to me, expect no further favours concerning your personal life.’
‘Sire, yes, I understand.’
‘I hope you do.’ Edward nodded brusquely and dismissed him.
Thomas bowed from the room, unsure that his legs would hold him up. He was sick with relief and amazement verging on disbelief at the sum stated. And very aware that despite the stunning generosity, the King was not best pleased. Returning to his lodging, he slumped on his mattress, shaking, as he had never done on the battlefield.
Otto and Raoul de Brienne had been playing dice while they waited, and both regarded him in consternation.
‘What’s happened?’ Otto demanded. ‘Did it not go well?’
Thomas raised his head and laughed hoarsely. ‘You have no idea.’
Otto poured him a drink, while Raoul eyed him in trepidation.
‘The King refused you again?’ he asked.
Thomas shook his head and gulped down the wine. ‘On the contrary, the King agreed to set your ransom – but you are not going to like it. He’s named the sum at eighty thousand florins.’
Raoul gazed at him, stunned. ‘You must be mistaken – that is madness! It is the ransom someone would demand for a king or a prince! Where are my family to find that kind of money?’
‘It was the last thing I was expecting,’ Thomas said. ‘I thought today he would either deny me, or offer a paltry sum. I am sorry, I would not have put this on you, but it means I can go forward now – indeed we both can, for at least we have a decision.’
‘It is impossible,’ Raoul said.
‘If it is paid in instalments, doubtless some will be commuted at a later date.’
Raoul slumped, shaking his head.
Otto looked between them. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘one man’s success is often another’s downfall, but as Thomas says, the King is bound to commute or defer some of the payment. I wonder why he fixed such a sum in the first place.’
In the top room of the Salisburys’ lodging house, Jeanette was ignoring her needlework. She loathed sewing, and the more Katerine and Elizabeth pressed her to it, the more she baulked. This morning she had finished the sixth day since her flux and the cloth was clean of blood. Yet again she was not pregnant. William, when prodded to lie with her like a boar in the pen, was as reluctant as she was and these days did not bother to attempt the act. He would come to her chamber and share her bed, but they would stay firmly on their own halves with their backs to each other.
Of late they had begun talking in a stilted fashion about the difficulties of their marriage and their mutual hatred of being bound together. William still refused to do anything about it and openly defy his mother and grandmother. The latter continuedto force vile fertility potions down Jeanette’s throat, and kept leaving charms and spells under her pillow, which Jeanette would throw out of the window or cast into the fire. Elizabeth also dosed her with potions to put her in a daze and keep her compliant. Jeanette continued her attempts to avoid them, sometimes by pretending to swallow and then spitting them out, or making herself sick in the latrine. But sometimes she was outwitted and would move through the world in a fog. When she was summoned into company, the women would say she was unwell and would hurry her away within a short time of arriving. Today, however, was a good day. She had seen no one and had avoided the poisoned cup, although God alone knew what was waiting for her under the mattress or inside her pillow cover.
A sudden flurry at the door heralded Prince Edward’s arrival, unaccompanied apart from a squire. The women rose and curtseyed, surprised to see him. Smiling, he bade them rise. ‘I beg your indulgence, ladies,’ he said. ‘I ask you to lend me Jeanette’s company for a brief while. My hound bitch has recently whelped, and I’d value her advice.’
‘Can you not ask the kennel man, sire?’ Elizabeth asked, nostrils flaring. ‘I hardly think Jeanette is qualified in that area.’ Her tone was curt with disapproval, her position as an ageing but hale matriarch giving her leeway to use a peremptory voice to the heir to the throne.
Edward turned to her with a charming smile and a steely eye. ‘Jeanette knows a lot more than you think,’ he replied. ‘I desire to give one of the pups as a gift to a certain lady, and I want Jeanette’s advice on which would be the best. Jeanette shall come to no harm in my company, I promise on my honour.’
The women had no recourse but to accept his word, but Jeanette noticed with pleasure that their cheeks were hollow and their lips pursed, as though they were having to swallow vinegar.In silence she collected her cloak, summoned Hawise, and made a hasty exit before they could raise further objections.
Stepping out from the lodging, Jeanette felt as though she had been released from fetters. ‘A “certain lady”?’ she asked. Everyone knew about Edward’s mistress Edith and their baby son, born in November and named Edward after his father and grandfather. ‘Will she not want to choose the pup herself?’
‘I am sure she will,’ he said. ‘It was just an excuse to get you away from those women – there is someone who wants to talk to you very much, but has been finding it impossible, and I believe he has some news for you.’
Jeanette’s heart started to pound in hard, swift strokes. ‘Thomas,’ she said, feeling dizzy. ‘You are taking me to Thomas?’
Edward smiled broadly, and without another word brought her and Hawise to the lodging where his mistress dwelt with their infant son.
