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.’
‘Why should you be? It was not your doing. Henry needed to fund your dowry, and mine was the obvious source. He is a man driven to reclaim the possessions of his ancestors and ensure England’s greatness,’ Madam Joanna continued. ‘The French war and England’s victory is his only concern.’
‘I know it is,’ I murmured. ‘Do you think I have not seen it for myself?’ It seemed disloyal to admit it, but Madam Joanna’s plain speaking encouraged me.
Seeing my unease, Madam Joanna leaned to close her hand awkwardly over mine. ‘That is not good. You should go to your husband,’ she said, as if reading my thoughts. ‘It is almost a year now, is it not, since you last saw him? I know Henry very well, and I know that you should be with him. He allows his mind to be taken up with the here and now—and sometimes he needs to be reminded that there are other people who need his attention.’
‘But I don’t think he wants me with him.’ For the first time I confessed my fears aloud, seduced by the compassion in this gentle woman. ‘He does not love me, you see. He never has…’
Her brows lifted. ‘How could he not love so beautiful a wife as you?’
‘He never pretended that he did. I thought he did, and I was naïve enough to think that he might. He was kind and chivalrous, you see.’
Her hands tightened imperceptibly. ‘You poor girl. How could you know what was in his mind? I never could. As a young man he never permitted anyone to see what was important to him—almost in case it was snatched away and he lost it. And he has excellent manners. How does one read what he is thinking behind that impossible facade of dignified control? I don’t suppose he has changed.’
Madam Joanna paused, then urged, her voice no longer soft, ‘Go to him. If you wish to make anything of your marriage other than a distant circling of minds that never meet and have no understanding of each other, go and be with him in France. It’s too dangerous to take the young boy, but Mistress Waring will care for your child. She will let no harm come to him.’
