‘You dropped this on the field.’ She showed him the enamelled belt pendant.
He looked at the little shield on the palm of her hand, before folding her fingers over it. ‘Keep it in exchange for a flower,’ he said.
Jeanette clutched the pendant, the sensation of his touch tingling on her skin, and knew she was in possession of the greatest treasure in the world. ‘I will always shout for you in the lists, messire.’
‘And I shall be honoured to carry your favour, demoiselle.’ He bowed, enjoying the moment. Another dance struck up, and although he had been about to make his farewells, he changed his mind and extended his hand. ‘We should seal the bargain and dance.’
Her eyes opened wide, but she gave him her hand and let him lead her to join the other courtiers. To the music of drum, lute and pipe they moved side by side in a circle, sometimes hand in hand, and sometimes hand on hip. Thomas changed the step at one point, flicking her a conspiratorial glance as he crossed one foot over the other and back, nodding encouragement when she followed him. Then she surprised him into laughter by making a double step of her own that he had to follow. The circles surged forward into a tight knot like the centre of a daisy, and then backout again, becoming petals. As the dance ended on a shout and a clap, they were both alive in the joy of the moment.
Thomas bowed to her. ‘Never have I stepped with a finer partner, demoiselle,’ he said. ‘Unless it be my brother Otto in the dance of the sword.’
Jeanette curtseyed, feeling hot. ‘I know, sire, I saw.’
He lightly touched her elbow. ‘I must attend to my duties now, but thank you for your company – I have enjoyed it beyond measure.’
She masked her disappointment by giving him a smile, both shy and mischievous, and made sure she was the first to turn away so that he would see her back and she would not see his. In truth, she could have danced with him for ever.
When she retired to prepare for bed, she threaded the little belt mount on to a blue silk ribbon and fastened it around her neck. The laughter and chatter of the other ladies sailed over her head. All she could think about was the dancing and the feel of Thomas’s hand holding hers.
‘Jeanette!’
She surfaced with a jolt to Lady Katerine’s bark.
‘Stop daydreaming, girl. The Queen commands you to comb her hair.’
She scrambled into her wits, and tucked the little shield down inside her chemise so that no one would see, before hurrying into the royal chamber where Queen Philippa was sitting on a chair, holding the freshly swaddled Lionel in her arms and lovingly fastening a little embroidered cap over his downy hair.
‘Ah, Jeanette, come, tend my hair.’ She kissed the baby’s brow. ‘Infants,’ she said with a smile. ‘They are so small for so short a time and then barely children for a moment before they are grown. I remember when you came to court with your brothers – such a tiny little girl with chubby legs, and those bigeyes. Now look at you – taller than I am and a beautiful young woman.’
Jeanette looked down, feeling embarrassed.
‘I want the best for all the damsels in my household.’
Philippa gestured for Lionel’s nurse to take him and settle him in his crib and then pointed to her box of combs and unguents, indicating that Jeanette should begin her task.
Wondering if she was about to receive a lecture, Jeanette rose from her curtsey and came to stand behind the Queen. Philippa’s hair was a blue-black mass of vigorous curls and she had to carefully work the comb through the waves, constantly dipping the tines in rose water and smoothing with a cloth to avoid ferocious tangles.
‘The time is coming,’ Philippa said, ‘when you will marry, as I am sure you have been told by your mother and others. I hear you have bled every month for a year now.’
Jeanette swallowed. ‘Yes, madam, but I am content in your service.’
‘Of course you are.’ The Queen looked round at her and smiled. ‘And for now, I am content that you remain so. You danced beautifully for the court tonight, and your lessons are progressing well – other than your needlework.’
Jeanette chewed her lip, but Philippa’s dark eyes were sparkling with humour. ‘It is not given to everyone to possess that skill. You have many others for a husband to commend. You are quick to understand, you never panic, and you are always practical.’ She turned to the front again. ‘It is true you are often heedless of consequences and far too headstrong, but you are young enough for that flaw to be adjusted before marriage.’
‘Yes, madam.’ So, this was a lecture after all. She had no doubt that Lady Katerine and Lady St Maur had found time to have words about her.
‘Come, my dear, do not be glum,’ Philippa said cheerfully. ‘I have not summoned you to scold you, but to say that I recognise your talents and that your faults may be corrected with a little application. I was married when I was little older than you are now, and had the responsibility of a husband and a kingdom written on to the blank pages of my book. What will be written on yours and how you will embellish its worthiness remains to be seen. I want you to succeed, because then I shall have succeeded too, as will every woman in this chamber. You do this for others as well as yourself.’
The words entered Jeanette’s being at a deeper level than Lady Katerine’s scolding over trifles; she could not dismiss them in the same wise. They were an inspiration rather than fuel for defiance. Embroidery might be a lost cause, but she could work on other areas. She would do it for the Queen, not for her mother or Katerine of Salisbury. ‘I do understand, madam,’ she said. ‘I shall try my best.’
‘Good, then we have a pact.’ Philippa turned again to give her a conspiratorial smile. ‘You can come to me with anything, and I will listen, I promise.’
Jeanette curtseyed, her throat tight with emotion. She worked on until the Queen’s hair lay in a thick plait, textured like brocade. Philippa thanked her and from a nearby basket produced two shining twists of teal-coloured silk ribbon. ‘These arrived from a mercer today, and I think they will enhance the colour of your eyes.’
‘Thank you, madam. They are beautiful and you are very kind.’
Philippa waved her hand. ‘Not at all. Go now to your bed and sleep well, and we shall begin a new day in the morning.’
