It was not Alice who had entered. In the doorway I saw that the woman had not Alice’s upright carriage or robust figure; rather my visitor was fragile and moved with care over each separate step. And then she moved forward into a stripe of sunlight and my visitor was plain to see. Letting my son slide to the floor, I walked to meet her as I smiled, my heart warming, silently admitting that the blame was mine for the distance that remained between us.
‘Madam Joanna!’
It had been too long—Henry’s funeral, in fact—since I had last found time to sit and talk to her.
Young Henry ran to her, but, seeing her involuntarily drawing back, I caught him before he could hang on her skirts. The lines gouged beside eye and mouth, more cruel than I recalled, told their own tale.
‘Will you sit? You are right welcome.’ Keeping Henry at bay I took her hand and led her to a settle that was not too low, where I helped her to sink slowly back against the upright support.
Joanna sighed, a sound that was almost a groan.
‘Thank you, dear child.’ She managed to summon a smile. ‘Now you can kiss me.’
I did, shocked by the quality of her skin at close quarters for it was dry and as thin and yellow as old parchment. The pain in her limbs was clearly great, the malaise gaining strength with each month’s passing. Acknowledging that she would not wish me to talk of it, I merely kissed her cheek again.
‘When did you arrive?’ I asked.
‘Yesterday. I came up in easy stages from King’s Langley.’
‘To see me? Then it is my fortune that I returned today.’ I enfolded her gnarled fingers with their swollen joints very carefully in mine.
‘They said you were at Leeds.’
‘Yes.’ I whispered in a restless Young Henry’s ear and sent him off at a run to bring wine for our guest, nodding to my page Thomas, who would follow him, while I sat at Joanna’s side. She shuffled in discomfort and I could not but ask, ‘Madam Joanna, are you quite well? Should you have travelled so far?’
‘My joints ache, but I expect no less.’ The movement of her lips was spare. ‘I thought I had to come.’
‘Well, of course.’ Not quite understanding. ‘Why should you not visit me? Although it would have been more thoughtful of me to come to King’s Langley. Forgive me, madam. Will you stay? If only for a few days? Henry will enjoy showing you his new skills with a wooden sword. As long as you stay well out of reach, of course.’
But Madam Joanna no longer smiled, rather withdrawing her hands from mine. In that brief gesture I had the impression that if she had been able to do it easily she would have stood and walked away to put some distance between us.
‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘Has something happened to upset you?’
Madam Joanna’s eyes were old, full of knowledge, full of past grief, but her gaze was uncomfortably direct. ‘I have come for a purpose. When you have heard me out, you may not wish me to stay long.’
It was a disturbing disclosure, but still I did not follow. ‘I’m sorry, why ever would I not wish you to stay?’
‘Is Edmund Beaufort here?’
‘Why, yes. Yes, he is.’
‘Was he with you at Leeds Castle?’
Now I saw the direction of her questioning. ‘Yes.’ I raised my chin at the first trickle of apprehension that tightened just a little round my heart. But I was not perturbed. Perhaps she did not truly understand, and when she did—for surely Edmund would have no compunction about my telling Madam Joanna—why, then, she would wish me well for she had nothing but my happiness at heart. ‘Yes,’ I repeated, ‘he was at Leeds.’
Startling me, she raised her hands to cup my cheeks as if I were a child to be cosseted, shielded from some unpleasantness. Then let them fall into her lap and her words drove straight through all my new-found happiness.
‘Oh, Katherine! Will you take some advice from an old woman who has seen much and suffered grievously at the hands of ambitious men?’ And for the first time I saw that her lack of ease was more than swollen and aching joints. She was sick to her soul, and my suspicions were grave. ‘I am not your mother to give you advice, but I’m the nearest you’ve got. I think you should be wary of too close a friendship with Edmund Beaufort.’
I kept my reply even, though my heart quaked. ‘Do you not like him?’
‘Liking him or otherwise is not the issue. It is a dangerous liaison, Katherine.’ How gentle her voice, how compassionate her eyes, but how ominous her choice of words.
‘You do not approve of our friendship.’
‘It is not wise.’
‘How can it not be wise?’ My replies were becoming more and more icy. ‘He is cousin to my son.’
‘If friendship is all it is, then I must ask your pardon.’ She tilted her chin, as if she could read my mind. ‘But I suspect it to be more than that, my dear girl.’
I looked away, quick to dissemble, fearing her displeasure, as I had always feared the displeasure of those around me. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Be honest with me, Katherine. How much is between you?’
I looked down at my clasped fingers, white with tension.
‘He makes me happy.’
‘Happy?’
