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I must have inspired her with confidence, for they thought her not only beautiful but dignified and delightful in every way.

She told me that when she had seen me at the window she remembered so much of the times we had together. She had missed me sadly and had implored the King to allow me to be with her. At first he had refused, but she had wept and told him how frightened she was, how lonely and sad, and how much she wanted to be with her mother. And at last he said yes. “He said you would after all know what I should wear.”

“Well, we are together,” I said. “And you will be happy, I promise you, for you are of a nature to be so. I have heard that your bridegroom is very handsome . . . and good, I am sure. I have seen a picture of him. He has long curling hair and a very fine complexion. He looked very impressive in his armor. It is said he is liberal to the poor, which shows a gentle and kindly nature. They are already calling him ‘William the Good.’”

They were busy and happy days for me . . . like an oasis in a dreary desert. The Bishop of Winchester was appointed to entertain the Sicilian embassy, and I gave myself up to planning Joanna’s wardrobe. Henry had arranged for his half-brother, an illegitimate son of Geoffrey le Bel, to be her principal escort. Henry always brought forward members of the family, even though they were illegitimate. Others who would join in the escort were the Archbishops of Canterbury, York, Rouen and Bordeaux.

Henry came to Winchester and I took my place in the Court celebration in honor of Joanna’s departure. I could not help feeling a thrill of excitement at seeing him again. My feelings for him could never be negative . . . and I fancy he felt the same toward me. I noticed his eyes often on me. There was a certain triumph in them. He must have been thinking that I now understood that he was the master. It was true. He had the power to make me a prisoner. But if ever I escaped it would be a different matter.

He had aged considerably, I was gratified to notice. The disaffection of his sons, wars, state matters, penance . . . all this had taken a bigger toll of him than imprisonment had of me.

I wondered if he still found the fair Rosamund so delectable. She was still with him. It must have been something more than physical attraction there . . . as I suppose it had been with me. But that had not prevented his having mistresses all over the country. He still did that, from what gossip I heard, and I had no doubt that he would go on behaving so in the years to come. When he was tired of women, he would be tired of life.

Now we kept up the faade of convention for this important occasion.

Finally, we took leave of Joanna. She clung to me and I murmured words of comfort. We should meet again. She would come to England. I would be free someday and then, if that were possible, I should come to see her.

One fair August day she embarked and with a squadron of seven ships set sail for her new home.

I went back to my prison. But I felt refreshed. My daughter had begged that I should have a brief period of freedom. One day my sons would make sure that I was released altogether.

I heard gossip concerning the King and Rosamund Clifford. Everyone knew of her existence now. In spite of the fact that she was the King’s mistress, she was meek and mild—so different from the Queen, they said, and so beautiful (they could not say that she was different from the Queen in that respect) that they accepted her. They said the Queen had been put away because she had plotted against the King, so it was natural that he should turn to Fair Rosamund for comfort. And to many others, they might have been told.

Amaria brought the news. “Rosamund is very ill. She has gone into a convent. She wants to repent of her sins before she dies.”

“So she and the King are no longer together?”

“They say she is near death, and she does not want to die with all her sins upon her. She has gone into Godstow Nunnery, and there she practices the severest penances