by Rachel Bard
“So you’ve learned to crawl, have you? Maman is very proud.” He gazed at her intently as though trying to take in her words and said, perfectly clearly, “Maman.” She laughed again and cradled him in her arms.
“Marie, isn’t this amazing? Imagine, his learning to crawl and to speak real words, so young!”
“Oh no, he’s nearly eight months and many children begin to do both by then.”
“But he’s so assured, as though he’d been practicing for weeks.” She refused to believe her son was anything but unique.
Marie smiled indulgently. She’d known many proud mothers.
“Now I’d better take him. See, he’s closed his eyes.”
Reluctantly, Joanna surrendered the baby and watched while Marie laid him in the cradle, tucked in his blankets and began to sing a soft lullaby. Joanna walked back to her room, feeling soothed and comforted by the brief time with her son. She smiled again when she remembered how he’d called her “Maman.”
When she opened her door she saw a supper tray on a table by the fire. She grimaced. She wasn’t in the least hungry. Then she saw a figure standing by the window. It was Raymond.
Before she could react he walked swiftly to where she still stood by the door.
“I know I’ve come uninvited. But please listen to me.”
Her hurt and anger returned twofold. “What can you possibly say that I’d want to hear?” She tried to move past him, but he took her hand and spoke quickly. “Please, give me two minutes.” She snatched her hand away.
“I suppose I must.” She sat down at the table, lifted a spoon and regarded her soup, as though ready to start on it as soon as his two minutes were up.
“I was wrong to suspect you and very wrong to strike you. I can’t ask you to forgive me yet, but I do hope you will let me prove to you how sorry I am, by my actions and words from now on.” She put down her spoon and looked up at him. He hurried on.
“It’s just that now that I’ve found you and made you mine, I can’t bear the thought of any other man in your life. It drives me mad.”
“Yes, I witnessed that. I don’t want to see you so out of control ever again. Can’t you understand, Raymond, that my wedding vows are sacred to me, as I believe yours are to you? That I would never leave you for anyone else? Can you promise not to yield again to this senseless, needless jealousy?”
“I do promise.” He spoke as solemnly as if repeating the wedding vows.
But she remembered that when she first met him and they were traveling from Saint-Gilles to Poitiers and getting to know each other, she’d sometimes felt his words weren’t sincere; that he was saying what he felt she wanted to hear. Was he doing that now? She looked at him searchingly, wanting to believe him. Belief would be so much easier than doubt.
“And I shall believe you mean it.” He took her hand again and she let him continue to hold it.
Their life resumed, almost as before. The assault, the accusation, the harsh words were never mentioned. But sometimes Joanna would awake, feeling the sting of Raymond’s slap on her cheek, and gasp with her unbelief. Then she would see him lying peacefully sleeping at her side, turned toward her with his arm around her waist.
At the end of April Raymond left for Toulouse. The others followed in a few days. But when Joanna and the sizeable retinue of nurses, guards, manservants and maidservants, muleteers and baggage handlers arrived, he was no longer in Toulouse.
François Compagne came to report to Joanna. As always, he was well groomed and his bushy red hair had been subdued by vigorous brushing. She was glad to see him. She thought he was the most open and dependable man on Raymond’s council. She liked his intelligent, observant face and the blue eyes that missed nothing. He stood before her respectfully until she asked him to sit down.
“The count asked me to tell you he’s sorry not to be here to greet you but he had to go to Béziers.”
“Not again! What’s the matter there now?”
“The same old thing, but worsening. The area is like a tinderbox waiting for the match. Men like Henri de Jarnac are itching for a fight. They’re getting a lot of support, not just from the Cathars. Most of the people, upper and lower classes alike, resent the bullying by the church and King Philip’s meddling. I don’t know how long Raymond can avoid getting involved in the dispute. It’s a slippery road he’s traveling. He has to persuade the bellicose nobles that he’s on their side, but urge them to pursue a wait-and-see course. Not easy.”
“And if he doesn’t succeed?”
“If the leaders aren’t convinced Raymond supports their cause, they’re likely to turn on him.”
“So he’s in danger?” This was more serious than she’d thought.
“Not yet. But he may be.”
“Oh, how I wish I knew some way to help!”
“And so do I.”
They were both silent for half a minute. “Well, I fear,” said Joanna, “that we can’t solve these problems today. Let me change the subject. Are you acquainted with Bishop Garnier at the cathedral?”
“Slightly. My wife knows him much better.”
“Then she’s the one I need to talk to. I’ve heard that the bishop has taken the lead in charitable assistance to the poor. I’ve barely met him, and I’d like to know more about what he does before I approach him to see if I could help.”
“In that case, Marie-Louise is just the one you need. She’s been involved in that work, though I don’t know exactly how. I’ll ask her to call on you. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear of your interest.” He rose and she accompanied him to the door.
“Better yet, could you both come to dine here tomorrow? I’ve been wanting to get to know your wife better anyway. It won’t be a large party, just Lady Adelaide and perhaps Sir Florian and his wife.”
“We’d be very pleased. And why not ask the bishop too? If you’re really interested, you might as well take the first step now.”
“Thank you, what a sensible suggestion. You are always a source of wisdom, Sir François!”
The dinner party was a great success, Joanna felt. She’d given much thought to the menu: not too elaborate but not too ordinary. She sat at the head of the table with the bishop on her right, Marie-Louise on her left, so they could converse easily. The bishop, a square-jawed and smooth-shaven man, wore a purple cassock under his white surplice, no cope and no mitre; he was bareheaded and had a fine crop of black hair. Joanna knew that for a bishop this costume was the height of informality and she was pleased that he obviously saw this as a friendly, nonofficial visit.
Marie-Louise greeted him with the ease of an old friend. Before the venison stew had been consumed he’d satisfied himself that Joanna’s interest in the charitable endeavor was genuine and had explained to her its nature.
“The core of the effort is the order called the Sisters of Charity. These women have taken sacred vows but are not cloistered. They go out into the world to help the helpless. Here in Toulouse they’ve learned where the greatest need is, mostly in the northern outskirts of the city where poverty is extreme. They bring the solace of the Word of God but just as important are the food, clean water and healing they offer. We learned some time ago that these dedicated women have a huge task and need assistance.”
He paused as his bowl was removed and a platter of roast partridges was placed on the table. “Ah, partridges. We’ll see how your cook prepares them. Marie-Louise, perhaps you could explain to the countess how you fit in this picture.” He expertly speared a partridge for each of the three of them and began to dissect his bird.
“Gladly.” Marie-Louise, a plump little woman with a round face and a ready smile, put down the partridge leg she’d been nibbling and addressed Joanna. “There are about ten of us. Among ourselves we call our group “The sisters of the Sisters of Charity.” One of us accompanies each Sister of Charity on her weekly visit. Many of those we visit, young and old, have some kind of ailment. Most are undernourished. We don’t pretend to be physi
cians but the Sisters know a great deal about care of the sick. We do what we can to make them more comfortable. We wash them if they can’t do it for themselves. And we always bring food. Not much, not enough to last them a week, but enough for at least one good meal per person. We try to get them to eat while we’re there, otherwise it might go down the gullet of some greedy family member or neighbor. Then we pray with them if they want it. We don’t insist.”
Joanna listened attentively. “I think I could do that. It doesn’t sound too demanding.”
“Physically it isn’t but it takes a lot out of you emotionally. It’s devastating to witness the deplorable living conditions, the misery, the despair. But there are compensations. Their gratitude is touching, and every once in a while we come across a mother who in spite of everything manages to keep her humble home clean and her children washed. Or a man who’s found some kind of work and brings his pittance home without spending it in a tavern on the way.”
“One question for both of you. I know my husband will ask this. Are you safe? Aren’t you venturing into a lawless area where robbers and worse roam freely?”
The bishop put down his knife and looked regretfully at the bones on his plate, all that remained of his partridge. “Yes, many people think we’re foolhardy, though it’s not nearly as lawless as they paint it. But we take precautions. Besides the servant who carries the supplies and is trained to be alert, you’ll always be accompanied by a stout guardsman, fully armed.”
Joanna nodded. “I think Raymond will accept that. You’re doing a wonderful service, and I’d like to join you.”
“Excellent! You might go along with Marie-Louise the first time so she can help you get accustomed to the duties. Now may I ask you to compliment your cook on the stuffing in the birds? I’ve often had the onion and apple combination, but never with both cloves and cinnamon, if I’m not mistaken.”
“You’re quite right, and Michel will be glad to hear you approve.”
That night in her chamber she reflected on what she had committed to. She felt that she was now fulfilling the charge she’d received in the cathedral of Le Mans. Before going to bed she knelt to pray. She tried to summon the vision of Christ in the Ascension window, but it was a blur of color with no discernible meaning. Nevertheless she prayed. “Thank you, Lord, for setting my feet on this path. Thank you for showing me where my duty lay. I beseech you to intercede on my behalf with our heavenly father, and I pray my good works will help to atone for my sins of omission heretofore. Amen.” Did that sound as though she was bargaining? But she thought she did deserve a little credit for finding this opportunity to do the Lord’s work.
She climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Almost asleep, she heard a ghostly voice, faint but distinct. “Beware of pride, Joanna.” She was shocked but then she laughed to herself. Once more, Christ was deflating her when she yielded to self-congratulation.
Finally at the end of October Raymond came home and Joanna told him about her new involvement with the Sisters of Charity. He listened absently and to her surprise he made no objection, after she explained about the guards. Neither did he applaud her for her concern for the downtrodden. He seemed even more preoccupied than usual.
To take his mind off his worries, she persuaded him to come to the nursery to witness his son’s new accomplishments. From Joanna’s chair Raymond le Jeune walked purposefully and with just a few wobbles to Raymond and stood, holding on to his father’s knees. He looked up and said gleefully, “Papa, look at me!” Raymond had emerged from his abstraction. “Remarkable!” he exclaimed, picking the child up and hugging him. “Well done, my son. It won’t be long before you can learn to sit a horse and go out hunting with me.”
The count and countess walked back along the corridor to their chamber with their arms around each other’s waists. Raymond said, “How lucky I am, to have such a beautiful wife and such an accomplished son to come home to.”
“And how lucky I am that you do come home.”
For two months harmony and calm prevailed in palace and city. Raymond, though still much occupied with conferences with the city government and his council, didn’t undertake any long trips. Joanna found the weekly duty with the Sisters of Charity to be unexpectedly rewarding when she could see at first hand that their efforts bore fruit: a persistent cough that had gone away, a child whose emaciated body began to fill out, a look of hope rather than despair on an old man’s face.
Another reward was her new friendship with Marie-Louise. Besides her seemingly unquenchable good humor, she had a plentiful supply of good sense. She and her husband became frequent guests at the palace dinner table.
One frosty December day a message came from Richard. “My dear sister: this is for your eyes only. I shall be passing through Aquitaine on my way to Perpignan next week and I shall make a side trip to Toulouse to see you.”
She was puzzled. What could be so secret and so urgent that Richard would go far out of his way to see her? Toulouse was a long way from the route to Perpignan. And why was he going to Perpignan anyway, almost in Spain?
But she didn’t share the message with Raymond. Clearly, Richard didn’t want her to. It would all be explained in time.
Besides, she had some much more momentous and joyful news for Raymond.
She had just discovered that she was pregnant again.
Chapter 67
“I can’t believe this,” Joanna said. “I don’t want to believe this.” She ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head violently, in denial of Richard’s unwelcome words.
“I know this is hard for you,” said Richard. “But I thought you should know. I’d have told you sooner but I haven’t been able to come before now, and it’s not the kind of news to send in writing.”
“No, of course not. And all this time I thought that Raymond…” She couldn’t hold back the angry, despairing tears any longer. Richard patted her on the shoulder and walked to look out the window and give her time to recover.
“What a pleasant prospect you have from your chamber! I’ve never been in the counts’ palace. That must be the River Garonne. And to think, that modest little stream becomes the great wide river that flows into the sea at Bordeaux.”
Joanna gulped, wiped her eyes and let out a shuddering sigh.
“I’m sorry, Richard. I’m better now. But this has been so sudden, and I’m confused. Tell me again, please, how you knew Raymond had struck me and shouted at me. From my maid, did you say? How did she know?”
“She was sitting on a bench in the corridor that afternoon, sewing, and she heard everything. She saw Raymond when he stormed out but he didn’t see her. But she heard him mutter, ‘She hasn’t heard the end of this!’ before he went into his room and slammed the door. Those words scared her and she tracked me down in the kitchen where I was talking to the cooks about the game we’d brought back from the hunt. She’s a good, quick-thinking girl, your Jeanette.”
“Yes, and considerate. She didn’t tell me she’d reported the quarrel to you. I suppose when she saw that Raymond and I were reconciled later that evening, she didn’t want to remind me of how abusive he’d been. So then what, Richard? You talked to Raymond?”
“Yes, I went immediately to his chamber and confronted him.”
“And did he admit he’d done anything wrong?”
“Not he. He was truculent and wouldn’t listen to me. So I reminded him of the agreement he and I made at the time of your marriage, that the English and the toulousains would no longer encroach on each other’s lands. I told him that unless he apologized to you and promised to behave himself in future I’d consider our treaty void. Whereupon he fumed and tried to shout me down. ‘The two things have nothing to do with each other! Joanna is my wife and you have no say in how I treat her.’ So I reminded him that she was also the sister of King Richard of England and that his treatment of her would greatly affect future relations between us.”
Richard, still standing, seemed to
become even taller and more assertive as he spoke the words “King Richard of England.” Not for the first time, she thought how lucky she was to have him as her champion and protector. Calmer now, she took a deep breath and smoothed her disheveled hair. Richard continued.
“That persuaded him. He’s always shrewd about seeing what’s in his best interests. He knew that if the peace treaty were broken I’d waste no time in invading Languedoc. He’d have far more trouble on his hands than he has now with the Cathars and Philip. He was still surly but he agreed to apologize. Did he do so?”
“He did, that very evening. God help me, I believed in his sincerity. He asked me to forgive him, and I did.” Her smile was bitter as she remembered Raymond’s words, “I was wrong.” How trusting she’d been!
Richard sat beside her. “I was dreading telling you all this. I’m sorry you couldn’t know of it sooner, but I didn’t dare trust it to a messenger. You’ve taken it very well, as I knew my level-headed little sister would. Now tell me, how have the two of you gotten along since then? I’ve heard nothing.”
“Almost as usual. After I accepted his apology he became quite the model husband. In fact, I’m now bearing his child. But I don’t know what to think about that now. Am I glad or sorry?”
“I think in time you’ll be glad. You mustn’t blame the child for the father’s iniquities.”
“I suppose not. I hope it will be a girl, so I can warn her not to put too much trust in what men say!”
Richard laughed. “How cynical you’ve become! Now shall we put this painful subject aside for now and talk about something more pleasant? Since I must be off in the morning, what entertainment have you to offer me this evening? And did I understand correctly that Raymond is unquestionably out of the city and I won’t run into him lurking in a corner?”