by Rachel Bard
Berengaria stood up. “That’s a blow for you. I know how fond you were of her. But let’s be happy for her and go on with our walk. A bit of exercise will help us work off the effects of that enormous meal last night. Shall we visit the cathedral? I’ve never seen it.”
“Yes, let’s. It always soothes me. It’s so calm and quiet, almost unbelievable in the heart of this noisy city.”
When they emerged from the palace, well bundled up, they were pleased to see that all the snow had melted and the sun still shone. They walked briskly along, followed and preceded by palace servants. Though the streets were crowded, the townspeople made way when they saw the royal livery of the servants and recognized the two fine ladies in their fur-lined cloaks and elegant boots. But there were many puddles along the way and conversation ceased while they gave all their attention to where they stepped.
At the cathedral square they paused so Berengaria could admire the huge structure. Joanna acted as guide and instructor.
“It was built by my mother and father, you know. In fact it’s still being built. There’s talk of two side towers, but I don’t see any sign of serious construction. Shall we go in?”
Inside, Berengaria gasped at the sheer size of the long nave with its two rows of monumental pillars. “Why, you can hardly see the altar from here. It’s magnificent! And so bright, I suppose that’s from all the stained glass.”
“Yes, especially when there’s sunshine. See how it streams in and makes this window glow. Do you see anybody you recognize?”
Berengaria dutifully studied the large east window. “Well, you’ve given me a hint so I suppose that rather angular lady in blue, looking woebegone, is Eleanor. But I must say, it doesn’t do her justice. And the man next to her, wearing a crown, must be your father, Henry.”
“Right.” Joanna pulled her fur collar tighter about her neck. “Brrr. It’s so chilly in here. Let’s go out to the garden. I know a sheltered nook where we can catch whatever sunbeams there are.”
When they reached the secluded bench they sat down and Berengaria put her hand on her friend’s arm. “Now my dear, you’ve been fidgeting and looking distracted all morning. Won’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” Before Joanna could answer a cloud covered the sun. They looked up to see an advancing bank of gray taking over the sky.
“Dear me,” said Joanna. “If we don’t hurry we may get drenched before we get back.”
They stood and the two servants, pleased at the prospect of getting out of the cold, promptly took their places before and behind. By the time they reached the palace a few snowflakes were drifting down. Shivering, Joanna and Berengaria ran up to Joanna’s chamber, where their maids, clucking and murmuring their sympathy, helped them out of capes, boots, scarves and gloves. They sat by the fire, grateful for the warmth.
“Now, you’re right, I do have something on my mind.” Joanna stretched out her hands toward the hearth. “I need to know what you think.” She glanced at Berengaria and hesitated before she spoke. “As you must have guessed, it has to do with Count Raymond.”
“Aha! And when you two left the banquet last night, I wasn’t the only one to notice. Richard said to me, ‘I hope that’s the good sign I think it is.’”
“He did, did he? At least he’s stopped pestering me to think of Raymond as a suitor.”
“And is he a suitor?”
Joanna blushed. “He is. In fact, he asked me to marry him.”
“Just like that? No preamble?”
Joanna’s blush deepened as she remembered the embraces and words of the night before. “Oh yes, he professed his love most convincingly and said he’d been thinking only of me for two years. And I believe he meant it.”
“But what about his reputation? Did he say anything about those marriages that didn’t last?”
“Yes. I told him I had to know how he could justify them before I could even consider his suit. He was very frank.” She related Raymond’s explanations of his complicated marital history.
“Hmm.” Berengaria laced her fingers together and stared thoughtfully into the flames. “It sounds plausible, despite the fact that apparently he lays all the blame on his wives and keeps none for himself. Do you accept his version of events?”
“I do. I know we’ve commented on how smooth and persuasive he can be and we’ve wondered how much to believe. But I think in this case he was completely sincere.”
Neither spoke for a few minutes. Outside, Joanna noticed, the snow was falling more seriously.
“One more question,” said Berengaria. “And dear Joanna, forgive me if I pry too deeply.”
“No, no, of course we must be frank. I have nobody but you to advise me, and I value your opinion.”
“Very well. You seem sure that Raymond cares for you. What are your feelings for him?”
Joanna chose her words carefully. “That’s exactly what I’ve been asking myself. I need to get to know him better. Now, all I know is that I’m very attracted to him and I find it exciting to be with him.”
“And are you at all influenced by the political advantages of the marriage?”
“I know my mother and my brother would congratulate me on making such a wise decision. But though I welcome the prospect of peace between our two houses, that hasn’t influenced me one way or the other. Actually I’m thinking only of myself.”
She leaned forward toward Berengaria and spoke more earnestly. “What’s most important to me is Raymond’s promise to shelter me, to protect me. He wants to give me a loving refuge—those were his exact words. All these years since William died I’ve had no one. That’s all I ask, someone to take care of me and to care for me. Someone to give my life purpose again.” She looked down at her hands folded in her lap and said, so low that Berengaria could hardly hear, “I’m not equipped to live alone.”
“Few women are.” Joanna guessed she was thinking of her own years of living alone while Richard ignored her.
Berengaria quickly moved on. “I did say I’d asked my last question, but I have one more, even more personal. Did you and Raymond talk at all about the possibility, the hope, of having children?”
“We didn’t. I’m sure we will. He must want a son badly—he’s had no children by any of his marriages. And my dearest wish is to be a mother. I came so close with William but God didn’t will it. But I’m only thirty-one, it’s not too late. Maybe now…”
“My prayers will join yours for such a happy outcome. But how did you leave things with Raymond?”
“I didn’t encourage him. I was far too flustered to know what to say. I asked him to come back this evening when they return from hunting, and I’d have an answer.”
Berengaria got up and gave her a hug. “And by now I know what your answer will be. My dear, dear friend, let me be the first to wish you joy.”
Joanna hugged her back, laughing but with a few tears welling in her eyes. “Thank you, thank you, for listening and for not telling me I was making a terrible mistake.”
“Of course not. And may the palace at Toulouse be filled with calm and serenity.”
As she spoke, the calm and serenity in the palace of Poitiers were abruptly shattered. They heard a familiar voice, loud and imperious, outside the door. Queen Eleanor was back from Fontevraud.
“You don’t need to announce me. I’ll go right in.” And so she did. She nodded to Berengaria, kissed Joanna on the cheek and sat down by the fire, looking uncharacteristically weary.
“A terrible journey, terrible. Thank God I’m here at last.” She threw back the hood of her damp cloak. Some hair had escaped from her wimple and was pasted on her pale cheeks. Her face was wan. She bowed her head and supported it with her hands for a moment. This was not the invincible Eleanor the world was accustomed to.
“I must go lie down but first you must tell me your news. I saw Richard below, just back from hunting, but he and his boisterous friends were so busy congratulating themselves on bringing back three fine boars that we were hardly a
ble to talk. However, he managed to tell me that you, Joanna, would have something interesting to tell me.”
Joanna spoke firmly. “Maybe later, at supper. Not now. Here, have some of this spiced wine we’ve been warming by the fire. And let’s get you out of that wet cloak. Then you must go get some rest. Jeanette,” she called to her maid, “will you send for the queen’s ladies to conduct her to her chambers?” She was surprised to hear herself ordering her mother about.
Eleanor didn’t argue. “Yes, perhaps you’re right.” She accepted a goblet of wine and sipped it while she sat quietly for a few minutes. Then she pulled herself together and sat up with her back as straight as usual. “I shall see you in my chambers at supper, then.”
Before she reached the door a page entered and addressed Joanna.
“My lady, Count Raymond asks when it will be convenient for him to call on you.”
“Please tell him in half an hour.”
Eleanor sent her a sharp look of inquiry but went on her way. Berengaria, tactfully, withdrew as well.
Alone, Joanna considered the gown she was wearing. It was dark blue, a supple silk, and fell straight from her shoulders in soft pleats. She decided it would do, perhaps with a sash. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to dazzle him with frippery and jewels, she told herself.
Raymond arrived punctually. When she saw his darkly handsome face, the smile playing about his lips, the intense gaze of his eyes, she felt the same wave of excitement that had swept through her body when he’d kissed her. He held out his arms and she moved into his embrace. He looked down at her and they kissed, not passionately but gently, as though sealing a pact.
“I can read in your face that your answer is what I hoped. All day I’ve been waiting for this moment. Thank you, dear Joanna.” He led her to an ottoman. She was glad to sit down. She felt almost dizzy with tremulous happiness and amazement.
“Was it a hard decision?” he asked, holding both her hands in his.
“In some ways, yes. I needed to think things through. But I do believe, Raymond, I knew last night, deep down, what my answer would be.”
“And I promise you will never regret it. Have you told your mother?”
“Not yet, but I’m to see her at supper in her chamber and I’ll do so then. She’ll expect me very soon.”
“So we haven’t much time now—but before long we’ll have all the time in the world to be together.” He took her hand and kissed it on the palm. “But I must leave tomorrow, so I fear we must get practical.”
They discussed the wedding date. “The sooner the better, of course,” said Raymond, “but I have various matters to settle over the next month. Perhaps the end of February?”
“Certainly, as far as I’m concerned. We’ll see what my mother has to say. She loves to organize weddings and such. She may well demand more time.”
“It may be,” said Raymond, “that Queen Eleanor will have to accept the fact that she’s no longer in charge of your life.”
Joanna laughed, but she saw that he was quite serious. She changed the subject. “What about Toulouse, Raymond? I’ve never been there. What’s your palace like?”
“It’s not nearly as big and comfortable as this one in Poitiers. We do, however, have a very fine cathedral, one of the largest in France, just the place for a state wedding. I can see you now, walking down the aisle while the lords and ladies exclaim at your beauty. And I join you at the altar, hoping against hope that you haven’t changed your mind.”
She envisioned the picture he had called up and smiled. “That’s not likely. I’m a woman of my word.”
Jeanette came in, apologetic at interrupting. “My lady, Queen Eleanor sends word that you’re late to supper.”
Reluctantly, they parted. “We’ll say goodbye before I leave tomorrow, and then it won’t be long before we start our new life together.” One last quick kiss, and he was gone.
Joanna found her mother, Richard and Berengaria already seated at table. In less than an hour Eleanor had changed her gown, put on a fresh wimple, ordered up a respectable supper and regained her usual energy. A servant was ladling thick soup with a tantalizing odor into big bowls. Peas, ham and—rosemary? Joanna guessed. She sat down. All eyes were on her.
“I’m sorry to be so late. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“No, we’ve been here only five minutes,” said Richard. “Just time to compare opinions on what you and Raymond were up to. And my close-mouthed queen refused to divulge what she knew.” He winked at Berengaria but Joanna could see how curious he was. He hadn’t even lifted his spoon.
“I’ll be glad to tell you.” She paused, and blurted it out. “Raymond has asked me to marry him. And I’ve accepted.”
Eleanor looked at her with a restrained but approving smile. “So you’ve shown some sense at last.”
“Good girl,” said Richard, diving into his soup.
Not a word of surprise or congratulation, thought Joanna. Am I so predictable?
Berengaria sent Joanna a look that said, “I know what you’re thinking.” She raised her wineglass. “Wonderful news! We’re very happy for you. This calls for a toast.”
“So it does,” said Richard. “I’ll send for a bottle of the best Bordeaux.”
Eleanor was already thinking ahead. “We’ll have the wedding in the spring, late April or May.”
“I’d thought perhaps sooner,” said Joanna. “Why wait?”
“Nonsense. It takes time to prepare for a state wedding, especially one of this importance. I’m sure Raymond would agree. Marrying into the royal family of England is a great achievement for a count of Toulouse We’ll need time to make it as grand as possible. You’ll need a whole new wardrobe, what with the wedding ceremony, the receptions, the banquets, as well as cloaks and furs for traveling. And there’ll be hundreds of guests we’ll have to invite. We must start on that at once. It will take time for us to get the word to them and for them to arrange their journeys. And we’ll have to provide suitable lodgings for them in Rouen.”
“Rouen?” asked Joanna. “In Normandy? So far? Raymond and I thought Toulouse.”
Before Eleanor could answer Richard entered the conversation. “Of course, mother. Rouen is just the place. That will show King Philip that we’re serious about keeping Normandy for the English.”
The celebratory wine arrived and Richard filled their glasses. Eleanor took a sip and said, “Yes, and it will please our loyal Norman subjects that we consider their capital city the proper place for a wedding of this significance.”
“What’s more,” said Richard, “with the count of Toulouse as my brother-in-law I won’t have to worry about quarrels between his lords and mine squabbling here in the south while I’m in the north. Sister, you have done a great service to England this day. I salute you.” He raised his glass.
It wasn’t quite the toast Joanna had imagined, with no congratulations to the happy couple or wish for their wedded bliss. But she smiled in acknowledgement and drank.
Soon enough, she told herself, I’ll be able to lead my own life without needing advice or approval from my family. And I’ll have Raymond’s help.
Chapter 59
“Your mother is a formidable woman.” Raymond lowered himself into a chair and wiped his hand across his forehead. Joanna had never seen him so discomposed.
It was the next morning. He’d come to say goodbye to her and to report on his meeting with Eleanor and Richard, during which they’d discussed the upcoming wedding and their new alliance.
“She is indeed. I take it you had a difference of opinion. I think I can tell by your face who won.” She was standing by his chair and looked down at him with amusement and affection.
“It wasn’t that important, really. We were talking about when and where to have the wedding. I could see her point in putting it off until later in the spring. We all want it to be a magnificent affair and if we give Queen Eleanor the time and support she requires she’s the one who ca
n make it so.”
“That’s true. And I for one could do with a little magnificence. There hasn’t been much in my life lately, unless you can count Richard’s Christmas spectacle.”
He looked up at her. “Or unless you count that elegant gown you’re wearing. It’s very becoming.”
“I’m glad you think so.” She knew this would be their last meeting for some time and she wanted him to remember her at her best. Her gown was the color of Burgundy wine, close-fitting from neck to hips, with a full skirt and long puffy sleeves caught in at the wrists. Her only adornment was a single string of pearls.
“Do go on. You yielded to my mother on the wedding date.”
“Yes, and with a very good grace, I might say. But I really did want it to take place in Toulouse. The toulousains would have been so proud. Your mother, however, explained most cogently that the relations of the English monarchs with their subjects in Normandy needed constant reinforcement and that to entertain them with a royal wedding in Rouen would strengthen the ties. I didn’t think it was worth arguing about. At which your mother was agreeably surprised. She’s used to dealing with my father, who automatically opposed anything your family suggested.”
“Yes. I remember hearing about some of those encounters. But what about you and Richard? Are you really on good terms, still allies?”
“Yes. Circumstances require it. He’s obsessed with building his ambitious castle up north to put the fear of God into King Philip. Or the fear of God’s ally, King Richard! He won’t want to worry about what’s going on down here. As for me, I’m happy to prolong our truce. War is an expensive, distracting business.”
He stood and took her into his arms, “I must go. So this is goodbye for now, dear Joanna. You’ve made me a much happier, more hopeful man than when I came. You won’t regret it, I promise.” She was learning to feel safe and cherished when he held her like this. She raised her face to look into his eyes. She felt absolutely certain by now that he was speaking sincerely. Their lips met in one last kiss.
She stared at the big oak door after it thudded behind him. She imagined his lithe, lean figure walking down the stairs, along the corridor and out of the palace. She saw him gracefully mount his waiting horse and urge it to a trot. She saw his knights and retainers take their places. Just before he was out of sight, did he turn with one last look at the palace where he’d said goodbye to his bride-to-be?