Jeanette shook her head, still feeling numb.
‘What now?’ Philippa demanded with a touch of impatience.
‘Nothing is wrong, madam,’ Jeanette replied. ‘Truly this letter is my heart’s delight. I know the wedding must be celebrated so that all may hear the verdict of the Avignon court and acknowledge the validity of my first marriage, but I want a moment for Thomas and I to be together. I know we can do so after our new wedding, but I want to see him and speak to him before that day. I would renew my vows every day for the rest of my life if I could. Even if we must have a public wedding, I want to see him again and have time to make time.’
Philippa’s expression softened, and she touched Jeanette’s hand. ‘And you shall have it,’ she said with sympathy. ‘I shall make sure of it.’
‘Thank you, madam.’ Jeanette swallowed tears. ‘It means a great deal to me. I have been twisted this way and that for so many years, and all I want is to be still in the moment with the man I have loved from the moment I set eyes on him.’
Philippa’s eyes were suddenly liquid. ‘Leave it with me, my dear,’ she said. ‘Let it be my gift to both of you.’
‘Also, William Montagu,’ Jeanette said firmly. ‘None of this is his fault. When Thomas and I are wed, I do not wish there to be any humiliation for him, or people laughing behind their hands. We have come to understand each other, and I want this to be honourable for him too.’
Philippa dipped her head. ‘Do not worry, my dear, I shall see that all is in order. Now then, if you are intent on having some time with your husband before you have to share him with the court, I have some thinking to do.’
Jeanette departed Langley five days later under the escort of two of the Queen’s knights and several serjeants of the household. Philippa had given her two rich velvet gowns and a chest of wimples, head coverings, belts and various fripperies, almost like a wedding trousseau.
Jeanette had no notion of where she was going, for Philippa had kept it to herself as a surprise. The leader of her escort had letters from the Queen and was smiling but taciturn, and Jeanette gave up trying to tease it out of him and set out to enjoy the journey instead.
She sat in a cart amid piles of bags, boxes and chests. As well as all the finery, Philippa had sent her with pies and pasties from the kitchens and a flask of the best wine. Heaps of furs kept her warm as did hot stones wrapped in blankets placed underneath the seat bench in the cart. The road was reasonable and the potholes they encountered not too deep. Yesterday’s rain had only been a brief flurry, and the road was clear.
The journey took them the best part of the wintry day, but they arrived at the royal manor of Havering on the banks of the Thames as dusk bruised the late afternoon sky. Jeanette had known their destination for several miles, having recognised thelandscape, and had started to smile, for Havering was one of her favourite places – less grand than Windsor, not as sprawling as Westminster, and the way the light caught the windows always gave her the impression that the buildings were smiling at her in welcome.
Messengers had ridden ahead, and in the courtyard torchlight she saw a man outlined in the carved doorway and her heart began to pound. The last of the dusk and the glimmering flame shone on the gold embroidered damask on his sleeve and belt fittings.
‘Thomas,’ she whispered, feeling light-headed.
The cart stopped and the horses stamped and snorted, steam rising from their coats and nostrils. Thomas left the doorway and came round to the back of the cart where an attendant was attaching some wooden steps. Taking her hand, he assisted her down, and Jeanette thought she might faint.
‘My lady wife at last,’ he said, and faced her, taking her other hand too. They stood looking at each other in the courtyard, surrounded by bustle but alone in stopped time. ‘I received a letter from the Queen telling me to come here,’ he said. ‘That she was sending you to me, and me to you, and I almost thought it was a dream.’
‘I thought I was dreaming too.’ She had to drop her gaze, for the fire was almost too hot to endure.
The escort leader cleared his throat, and with an effort Thomas turned his focus outwards and issued orders with regard to the stabling and dealing with Jeanette’s baggage. Then he led her inside to a chamber usually occupied by important guests. Beeswax candles glazed the room with soft light, and a welcome fire burned in the hearth.
Food had been set out on a table spread with a white cloth with all manner of small, tasty delicacies to tempt the palate without being a surfeit. Wafers and tiny marrow tarts,and savoury morsels of pork and parsley with various sauces. Goblets of green glass twinkled, and there were two cups of jewelled silver – all the trappings of the court, but much more intimate.
Thomas took her hands again. They had not kissed yet and Jeanette knew that once they began, they would not cease until they had disappeared into each other and become one, and that it was a moment to savour, for it would never come again in their lives.
‘It has been so long since we have been alone,’ he said. ‘And even then, we knew we were chancing fortune and could have been parted and punished at any moment. But now we have our freedom to be together, and I swear to you that with each breath I take, even to my dying one, you will be free. Whatever you want from me, it is yours. I own the blame for what happened before. I should have stayed, I should have spoken out, and I swear on my oath as a knight that I will never desert you again – never! You are my true wife in chastity and in love for ever.’
Jeanette was so moved and overwhelmed that she could barely think, let alone speak. She touched his face and brushed her fingertips over the scar at his temple and his blind eye. ‘This is all that I have ever wanted. If I have this, I need nothing more – no kings and courts, no silks, no gauds and decorations. Just you. I gladly give them all up.’
‘Truly? You would follow me across countries and battlefields clad only in your shift?’
She lifted her face to his. ‘Yes, I would, and never regret it.’ And in that moment, it was true.
He kissed her then, and she closed her eyes, and the world went away.
35
Royal Palace of Havering, Essex, November 1349
Jeanette lay on top of Thomas, feeling his bare skin against hers, the coverlet furs pulled up around them. The only light came from the dim, grainy gold candle flame and the red coals in the hearth. He brought a tress of her hair to his lips and kissed it. ‘No thread of gold could compare to this,’ he said softly. ‘You are beyond beautiful . . . Just this one moment makes it worth all the struggle and heartache, and I would do it again and again and again.’
She kissed his shoulder, his neck, his temple, unable to believe that finally they were together without barriers. ‘Would you truly? Wasn’t there a time when you thought about giving up?’
‘On many occasions, but I didn’t – neither did you.’
