The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [237]
I often wondered as I sat by her bedside whether she realized that this marriage of hers had been a mistake. She had been sent to Sicily to marry the King when she was twelve years old, and there she had found a kindly and faithful husband; that had been a happy marriage. It seemed ironic that the man chosen for her had been a better husband than the one she had chosen for herself. Of course, she never said a word against Raymond but, in view of his past record with wives, I did not believe for a moment that he would turn into a faithful husband.
Now Raymond was in great difficulties and needed help. Richard was dead; John was unreliable; and she herself was suffering from illness and a difficult pregnancy.
I was very worried about her and grew more so. I insisted on nursing her myself. We talked together of the long-ago days when the children had all been in the nursery together . . . all dead and gone now, except Eleanor, who was married to the King of Castile. Matilda was dead . . . William, Henry, Geoffrey and now Richard . . . all my sons, dead . . . with the exception of John.
We wept together. How sad and ironic, I thought, that I, an old woman, should have outlived all those young and vital people.
And now it seemed that I was going to lose Joanna.
I felt so bowed down with grief that I was expecting the worst, so it was no surprise to me when she became very ill indeed. Perhaps, had it not been for her pregnancy, I might have nursed her through that illness. But she was sinking fast. She had one great desire and that was to be a nun of Fontevrault. It seemed a strange request to make, but I feared it would be the last one she ever would, so I wanted it granted.
The Archbishops were against it, declaring that it could not be done without the consent of her husband.
I said: “Her husband is far away fighting for his lands. Can you not see that my daughter is dying? What do rules matter if she can have a little contentment in her last hours?”
She would never take up the life of a nun, for she would never leave her bed, and I was determined that her last request should be granted. And in the end I had my way.
Just before she died, my daughter Joanna was received into the Order of Fontevrault. The Archbishop of Canterbury was in Rouen at that time and I sent for him. It was he who gave her the veil. Then the Abbot of Tarpigny and the monks offered her to God and the Order of Fontevrault.
It must have been the first time a pregnant woman had been received into a convent.
It brought great comfort to Joanna; she changed and seemed to come to peace. She gave birth to her child and died; and in a short time the infant followed her.
I wondered what fresh blows Fate could bestow on me. Of all my children there were only two now living: John and Eleanor.
What followed was scarcely unexpected. Constance of Brittany might not have wanted her son to come to England but she was determined to fight for his inheritance.
There were many who said he was the true heir to the throne. The Bretons under Arthur and Constance were on the march. Angers had fallen into their hands; and Maine, Touraine and Anjou had accepted Arthur as their ruler.
John was worried. He must have wondered whether he had gained his kingdom only to lose it. Philip Augustus had decided to back Arthur. So the position looked dangerous.
John immediately went to Normandy, where he was to be proclaimed Duke at Rouen.
Here again he showed his complete unsuitability for the position which had come to him. In the church were a number of his ribald friends, and during the solemn religious service they were laughing at the ritual and ridiculing the ceremony in audible terms. John kept turning to look at his friends and at one most solemn moment was seen to wink at them; when the lance was handed to him, he was paying