But first, before I saw Henry again, I knew I must discover the truth to some unanswered questions. After months of inactivity, I was swept with a desire to discover what was hidden, and perhaps to build some bridges.
It was not at all what I had expected when, accompanied by an impressive escort, including both Gloucester and Bishop Henry, I made a bid to discover all I could about Henry’s imprisoned stepmother and the troubling prophecy.
Leeds Castle, a beautiful little gem set in a sapphire lake created by two encircling arms of a river, the waters reflecting the blue of the sky, was no grim dungeon for Madam Joanna. A soft imprisonment—yet still, all in all, it was an imprisonment if she lived under the custody of Sir John Pelham, as Bishop Henry informed me, and was not free to travel. I was both intrigued and anxious. What would this visit reveal about Madam Joanna—or indeed about Henry?
We were announced into her chamber: Joanna of Navarre, Queen Dowager of England and second wife of Henry’s father. She did not rise from her chair when Gloucester and Bishop Henry kissed her cheeks with obvious fondness. And I saw why she did not stand when she placed an affectionate hand on Gloucester’s sleeve.
Elegant she may be, her pure white hair coiffed, the folds of her houppelande rich with embroidered panels, jewels gleaming at neck and wrist, but her hands were crippled into claws and her shoulders rigid, and any movement deepened the lines between her brows. Discomfort notwithstanding, I was welcomed with a smile and a speculative regard from direct grey eyes. Entertained with music and wine, Gloucester and Bishop Henry proceeded to enliven her existence with news of court trivia and some comment on what Henry was doing in France.
Madam Joanna absorbed it all, then announced with quiet authority: ‘I wish to speak with Katherine.’ And when we were alone, duke and bishop obediently departing: ‘Sit next to me. I hoped you would come and visit me.’
I moved to the stool at her side. ‘I did not realise, my lady.’ What a poor excuse it sounded even to my ears, and what an appalling situation. ‘I did not even know—’
‘That I was a prisoner.’ She completed my thought with astonishing complacence.
‘Henry told me you chose to live a quiet life.’
‘Perhaps I would, in the circumstances.’ She lifted her arthritic hands with a little
‘Mistress Waring said that…’ How could I voice something so terrible?
‘I was accused of witchcraft.’ Madam Joanna frowned as if the words pained her. ‘It is true. So I am accused. Do you believe it?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think Bishop Henry does. Or Gloucester.’ Their warm acknowledgement of the Queen Dowager, their affection for her, could not be ignored.
‘I don’t think Henry believes it either,’ Madam Joanna added dryly. ‘But he needed me to be vulnerable.’
Again, I was lost for words. ‘But why?’
‘So that he could confiscate my dower lands and income, of course.’ Her candid explanation startled me, even more her calm acceptance of it. ‘England needed as much gold as she could raise in order to pursue the French wars. The easiest source to plunder was my dower. So how to get his hands on it? It was so simple. He had me accused of threatening his life with necromancy.’
‘But that’s despicable.’
‘I cannot disagree. And—do you know?—I have never been put on trial. I have been unfairly accused and incarcerated for more than two years in one castle or another.’
It was too much for me to take in. ‘I can’t believe that he would do that.’
‘How long have you lived with Henry? Have you not yet learnt that he can be ruthless?’ Madam Joanna’s smile and voice acquired an edge worthy of a honed sword. ‘Where do you think he got the money for your dower?’
If I was horrified before, now I was shocked almost into disbelief. It was a shattering revelation, undermining all my pleasure in what I had once considered to be Henry’s true consideration for me.
To compensate for my lack of a dower in gold coin, Henry had provided me with the vast sum, to my eyes, of a hundred thousand marks to spend every year, as well as gifting me lands and estates, manors and castles, put aside for my own personal use. Henry had ensured that I was not a penniless supplicant, and once I had marvelled at his generosity. Now I learned that it was at the expense of this tragic lady.
‘My dower was exploited and I remain under duress until Henry decides to free me.’ Madam Joanna tilted her chin, wincing a little. ‘I’m not sure I can ever forgive him for that.’
I could think of nothing to say that would assuage my guilt or add to Madam Joanna’s comfort. Her situation was truly deplorable. All I could manage was, ‘I am so sorry.’
