The Fair Maid of Kent

by Caroline Newark

  ‘Yes, you are my wife. Why shouldn’t I take you?’

  I smiled sweetly and murmured that there was indeed no reason.

  ‘Good,’ he said, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair.

  Nothing was said for a few moments while he kept his face turned to the fire and I considered the exciting possibility of a new gown.

  At last he spoke. ‘My Uncle Grandison tells me a clever man is one who knows the value of his worldly goods and how best to work them to his advantage.’

  ‘The bishop is truly a wise man,’ I said absentmindedly, wondering why after a year and a half of keeping me immured at Bisham my husband now wished to offer me up to public scrutiny. We had been content here these past months and I was nervous of anything which might disturb the calm waters of our marriage.

  He slowly turned his head until he was gazing into my face.

  ‘You are my greatest treasure, Joan,’ he said leaning over and giving me a lingering kiss on my lips causing me to blush as I remembered his passionate embraces of last night. ‘At Westminster you will be by my side in the manner of a dutiful wife and I want you to use your influence on the prince.’

  ‘On Edward?’

  ‘Yes, I need his favour and you can get it for me. You know how to flatter a man. I’ve watched you weave your coils round those fat old knights who frequent our hall. It’s a skill some women possess. My mother had it and you have it too.’

  ‘You want me to flatter the prince?’

  ‘Joan, think for a minute. Every year Edward’s power advances and his influence on the king grows. If we are to further the fortunes of our family, I need to be the person who is of greatest importance to Edward. I won’t be pushed aside by men like Chandos.’

  ‘That would be very wrong indeed, William,’ I said, wondering how in Our Lady’s name I was to do what he wanted. ‘John Chandos can never be like you, he is nothing but the son of a gentleman.’

  ‘You understand what I’m saying? I need to be the one at Edward’s side and you are to help get me there. It was a duty my mother performed for my father. She once told me that to serve one’s husband in whatever way he commanded was a woman’s most Christian duty.’

  ‘She was a true inspiration,’ I said, almost choking on the words.

  ‘A wonderful wife to my father,’ sighed William. ‘She would have done anything to further his ambitions.’

  ‘But William…’

  He frowned at my hesitation, reminding me, in case I should ever forget, how easily his temper could be aroused. ‘There won’t be any discussion about this, Joan; you will do as I say. Do you understand?’

  Of course I understood. I knew exactly what was expected of me but it felt underhand and I didn’t like it. Edward was my friend not some fish to be lured to the net.

  It was strange to return to the royal palace at Westminster after all these years, no longer a child but the wife of a man who would soon be Earl of Salisbury. It was just as I remembered. The entertainments were as extravagant and magnificent as ever, and seeing my friends from the nursery again was a delight.

  But there was one person not enjoying the festivities and that was the papal ambassador, Archbishop Canali, a continuing and unsettling presence amidst the gaiety. My cousin’s senior commanders went in and out of the king’s private rooms almost at will but the ambassador stayed where he was, huddled with his advisors in an outer chamber, unable to secure an audience with the king and showing all the signs of a man fast losing patience. I was intrigued to know why he was here and why my cousin was refusing to meet with him.

  The archbishop may have been ignored but William was making good progress. He supped in private with Edward and on two occasions rode out with the king’s party in the early morning. He was often in the company of his brother-in-law, Sir Hugh Despenser, and was included in meetings with the earls of Arundel and Warwick. I rarely saw him except sometimes at dinner.

  ‘I am shamefully neglected,’ I complained to Margaret. ‘William sees more of your husband than he does of me.’

  She laughed. ‘All women are neglected when men are planning a campaign and some of us are mightily pleased.’

  She stared consideringly at the front of my gown. ‘I thought you and William had been busy squirrelled away at Bisham these past months but I see your labours have been in vain. Or am I missing something?’

  ‘No,’ I said gloomily. ‘And it’s not just William who is becoming impatient. My mother wants a grandchild. She tells me a concoction of nettles and raspberry leaves drunk three times a day never fails but it hasn’t worked for me.’

  ‘Have you tried may blossom beneath your pillow?’

  ‘In the middle of winter?’

  She laughed. ‘Holly leaves?’

  ‘A mite prickly. I think William would object.’

  She gave me another sideways look.

  ‘You are beginning to sound like a smug married woman, Jeanette. Do I assume William is not neglecting you?’

  I blushed. ‘No, he’s very attentive.’

  ‘Like Alice’s husband. Another girl. Did you know?’

  I shook my head, remembering with a shiver William’s stories of what his uncle did to Alice.

  ‘He is complaining it was a bad bargain he made with our father, says he married Alice to get sons not useless girls.’

  ‘I’d be happy with a girl,’ I sighed.

  ‘Your husband wouldn’t. I’ll wager he wants a son.’

  Remembering William’s instructions, I left Margaret to her own devices and set out to find Edward. I wandered through endless painted chambers looking Edward but instead found Isabella sulking in her room, refusing to see anyone.

  ‘She’s in floods of tears,’ whispered Joanna at the door. ‘She had a meeting with our father in his private rooms and rushed back with a face like a thundercloud. Now she’s hunched in a corner refusing to tell me what’s the matter.’

  ‘I won’t stand for it,’ a voice screamed. ‘It’s an insult! I’ll boil him in oil, I’ll tear out his innards, I’ll… I’ll…’

  ‘Someone has annoyed her,’ I observed.

  ‘I know, but she’s making no sense. I’d better go, Nettie; those girls of hers are useless. They flutter about mopping up her tears and that simply makes her angrier than ever.’

  Joanna gave me a brief kiss and disappeared. As the door swung closed I heard a renewed torrent of abuse followed by a sharp slap, a girl’s shriek and then silence.

  Eventually I found Edward gambling in a side room with his friend John Chandos and a host of other young men.

  ‘Jeanette!’ he called, spying me through the open door. ‘Come here!’

  I walked over and swept the king’s eldest son and heir a deep curtsey.

  ‘God give you good day, my lord,’ I said politely. ‘I trust all is well?’

  ‘It is.’

  He looked pleased at my deference. He was sixteen, tall and well-built for his age and if you didn’t know you might have taken him for an older man. His hair was darker and less luxuriant than his father’s and his eyes were brown not blue but he was cut from the same royal cloth and had the straight nose and well-shaped lips of my cousin. He had grown to be very good-looking.

  ‘I passed Archbishop Canali,’ I said. ‘He wasn’t looking too pleased, I trust you haven’t offended him?’

  ‘By no means, but my father is avoiding him. The archbishop wants safe conducts for his peace-making cardinals and just at the moment my father doesn’t want peace.’

  ‘He doesn’t?’

  ‘Of course he doesn’t. We have recaptured our castles in Gascony from the French and Lord Henry is sweeping through the Agenais taking town after town. If you’re winning a war you don’t make peace, you crush your enemy and then you make peace.’
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  That made perfect sense and I wondered why William was never able to explain matters as clearly as this.

  ‘I went to Isabella’s chamber but she didn’t want to see me. Joanna says she’s discomforted.’

  ‘Oh Christ’s blood!’ Edward ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I forgot. I am supposed to be mourning the loss of yet another bride my father was trying to buy for me. Chandos says Pope Clement is to rule against my marriage to the daughter of the Duke of Brabant on the grounds our fathers are cousins. It’s of no consequence to me but Bella is distraught. She had her heart set on the duke’s son. It was to be a grand double wedding with all the usual fuss. Now she’s convinced Joanna will marry before her.’

  ‘If I may say so, Edward, you don’t sound very unhappy. Surely the loss of a bride should be a matter for sadness,’ I teased. ‘Perhaps you could shed a tear or two.’

  He looked straight into my eyes as if he would read the words inscribed on my soul and said with all seriousness, ‘I only wept for the loss of one girl in my life, Jeanette. I doubt I’ll weep for another.’

  I knew he was talking about me but it embarrassed me to hear him speak openly like this in front of his friends so I said lightly, ‘But Edward, you must surely want to marry; your royal father certainly wants it.’

  ‘The girl I wish to marry is wed to another,’ he said bluntly. ‘As it seems I cannot have her, marriage will have to wait and wagering is as good a diversion as any other. Come on, Jeanette, come and play dice with me.’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘Why not? We can squat on the floor and you can pull up your skirts the way you used to. Chandos will keep guard.’

  I looked at the tiles and considered my best damask silk gown and its new ribbon trimmings which weren’t designed for crawling around on the floor. But at the back of my mind were William’s instructions, so I forgot my dignity and the matter of creases and sank down beside Edward. My skirts billowed out like the petals of an exotic flower.

  ‘Edward,’ I whispered.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Should we be doing this?’

  He made the first throw.

  ‘I do what I like, Jeanette. Nobody tells me what to do.’

  He played skilfully and he was lucky but he wagered recklessly. If I’d been as favoured I could have beggared him in a dozen throws, but as it was I soon lost the few pennies I carried in my purse. A strand of hair fell over my eyes and I cursed my maid for not securing it properly.

  I started to rise but he placed his hand firmly on my arm.

  ‘Have some more coins. I’ll make you a loan.’

  ‘Not a gift?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What if I lose these as well as those I’ve already lost?’

  He grinned. ‘Then you’ll be doubly indebted to me and one day when you least expect it, I’ll call in my loan.’

  We played some more and he let me win a little but when it looked as if I might beat him he quickly concentrated and effortlessly defeated me, throw after throw until again I had nothing left. By now the tiles were cold beneath my skirts and if I had been an exotic flower I would certainly have withered and died.

  ‘Joan!’ It was William’s voice from far above my head. ‘What in Christ’s name are you doing on the floor? Oh my lord, I didn’t see you there.’

  Edward rose slowly and elegantly to his feet, dusting off his knees, smiling in amusement. He was taller than William and broader in the shoulders; he looked older though he was the younger by two years. He extended a hand and helped me to my feet, smoothing the folds of my gown and touching my back in the intimate way of a lover.

  ‘It’s alright, Montagu,’ he said carelessly. ‘You can have your wife back. I’ve finished with her.’

  There was a hiss and an indrawing of breath from those around us. What he’d said was unbelievably insulting both to me and to William. Everybody present knew it and they were waiting to see what William would do.

  My husband stood like a young bull with his legs apart and his head tipped slightly forward ready for the charge. If it had been anybody other than Edward who had said those words William would have punched him in the mouth but he couldn’t strike the king’s son and he knew it.

  ‘Come away, Montagu, leave it.’ John Chandos saw the danger and had his hand on William’s arm. ‘Let it be. Take your wife away and keep her better guarded. It’s not right for her to be here.’

  William did nothing. I knew he was struggling to keep his temper under control and for a brief moment I thought he would hit Edward. Then, with a swift bow, he spun on his heel, grasped my wrist and pulled me roughly through the crowds and didn’t stop until we reached our chamber. There he thrust me against the wall.

  ‘What were you doing?’

  ‘I was doing what you told me, William. I was encouraging a friendship between you and the prince.’

  ‘What did you promise him?’

  ‘Nothing, William,’ I said wearily.

  ‘So what was the wager? Your virtue?’

  ‘No. We were playing for pennies, that’s all.’

  ‘On the floor?’

  ‘Yes, he insisted.’

  ‘And what else did he insist on?’

  ‘William,’ I protested. ‘You ask me to flatter him, to be kind to him, to gain his attention. What do you expect me to do?’

  ‘I don’t expect you to be like that.’

  ‘Like what?’ I said, truly not understanding what I had done wrong.

  ‘The way you look at him, the way you laugh and smile and give him your hands.’

  ‘Oh William, he is Edward. I’ve known him since we were children. He’s like a brother to me.’

  He sat down heavily on a stool and put his head in his hands. ‘He doesn’t look at you the way a brother would,’ he mumbled into his sleeve.

  It was true, Edward didn’t but I mustn’t think of that now.

  ‘Do you have feelings for him?’ There was a catch and a note of desolation in his voice.

  I knelt on the floor in front of him and laid my head in his lap. It was warm and comfortable and increasingly familiar and I knew instinctively what was needed. He was jealous and jealous husbands were dangerous. I wound my arms part way round his waist so that I almost held him in my arms.

  ‘I love you, William,’ I murmured quietly, raising my face to his, blinking back my tears. ‘Only you, nobody else. You are everything to me. You are my beloved husband and all I want is what you want.’

  ‘Truly?’

  ‘Truly.’

  He placed his hand on my head and gently stroked my cheek with his thumb, saying nothing and we stayed like that until the boy came in with the logs and we heard the sound of a trumpet calling everyone to supper.

  Next morning, I thought I was dying.

  ‘I did warn you,’ said my lady companion unhelpfully.

  ‘I know, I know,’ I groaned, my belly cramping horribly as I retched for a third time.

  ‘Would you like me to fetch some spiced ale? It’s supposed to be good for this kind of thing.’ She was being sour-faced and I wanted to hit her but hadn’t got the strength.

  ‘What kind of thing?’

  ‘A child.’

  ‘It is not a child.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘Just get me a cloth,’ I said, pushing the bowl to one side.

  She got up and her skirts wafted past my nose. I grimaced in disgust at the smell of lavender and wormwood but although my belly protested it stayed quiet and I decided that perhaps I was not going to die after all.

  I sat back on my heels and took a deep breath. I knew what this was, it was the consequences of greed. Too many sugared plums.

  She gave the bowl and its noxious contents to my maid but s
tood dithering as if she couldn’t think what to do next.

  ‘Just tell her to get rid of it,’ I said irritably. ‘And fetch me some water. I need to wash my face.’

  ‘We’ve missed the hunt,’ she whined. ‘Everyone’s down in the yard and they’re going without us.’

  I dragged myself to the window and watched the procession of horses and riders pass through the archway out into the hazy winter sunshine. Everyone was beautifully dressed, the men laughing and joking at the prospect of a day in the saddle. I swear even the hounds had smiles on their faces. William rode in pride of place next to Edward. As he had said before he left, the reward was his and his alone. He hadn’t needed my help. My rash behaviour had nearly spoiled his chances and he should have known better than to have allowed me to accompany him to Westminster. Then in a piece of calculated spite, he ordered me to stay in our room. I was not to follow the hunt.

  ‘I am going to walk by the river,’ I announced to my snivelling companion. ‘You can stay here as I intend to go alone and you’d better get over your disappointment by the time I get back because it’s hardly my fault we’re stuck here.’

  It was a small act of rebellion but it made me feel better.

  A low mist hung over the river and I couldn’t see much, just a single boat travelling quickly downstream on the outgoing tide. A few seabirds moved along the exposed banks, pecking in a desultory way in amongst the shingle and mud. Dark clumps of reeds on the far shore appeared in and out of the shifting mist and from somewhere across the water I heard a child’s voice calling for its mother. Everything looked as grey and as miserable as I felt.

  I heard footsteps coming down the path but took no notice, it would likely be some palace servant on his way to the kitchens or a messenger heading for the Westminster steps. My ears registered that whoever it was had stopped immediately behind me.

  I didn’t turn my head. I didn’t look. I didn’t move so much as my little finger but I didn’t need to. I had recognised the steady tread of his boots and the familiar sound of his breathing; I didn’t need to see his face or look into his eyes to know exactly who this was.