Chapter 10 Smithfield, London, May 1362
‘That stepson of yours, the oldest Holland boy, I’ve been watching him,’ Richard, Earl of Arundel, remarked to Edward. ‘He handles a horse well.’
The men were observing their squires warming up the horses on the tourney field.
For hundreds of years a weekly horse fair had been held at Smithfield on the city outskirts, with races and impromptu tests of knightly prowess.
The weather was dry, the sky a fine, warm blue and the mood of combatants and audience was optimistic and boisterous.
Young Tom Holland was leaping in and out of the saddle of a thirteen-hand sorrel as nimbly as a squirrel swarming up a tree.
‘The lad is half centaur, I swear,’ Edward said with proud amusement.
He glanced at his companion. Richard of Arundel was extremely wealthy and had lent the Crown considerable sums of money.
He was particularly skilled at marrying the strands of friendship with profitable business to dual advantage, and his remark about Tom was more than casual.
‘He is eager to learn and quick-witted. All some boys want to do is fight, they cannot see further than the nose in front of their faces, but Tom knows what he is about. I keep forgetting he is only eleven years old. I don’t have to ask him to do anything twice – ever. ’
‘The future Earl of Kent is going to be a formidable man then,’ Arundel said, a smile deepening the creases between nose and mouth.
‘He is indeed.’
Edward watched Tom control the horse, turning him in a tight circle, his young face bright with pleasure.
Jeanette and Thomas had produced four wonderful children.
He wanted children with her – glorious sons like this one – but not quite yet.
He had waited so long for her, he was reluctant to put her through the dangers of childbearing before he had fully drunk from the cup.
He had a duty to beget heirs, but he had younger brothers with wives who were fully capable of furthering the line.
John and Blanche already had one daughter and a newly born son.
There was time enough once he and Jeanette had established their own court in Aquitaine, and an heir born in Aquitaine would have double the value.
He had even gone as far as consulting a physician and a midwife on the best times for a woman to conceive and then taken the opposite advice.
He would wash his male parts in milk or wine before congress, and sometimes he would spill his seed against the sheets in the dark after bringing her to satisfaction.
It could not continue for ever, and he felt guilty at his deception, knowing how keen Jeanette was to conceive, but just for a short while he wanted her to himself, and if that was selfish, so be it.
‘Have you given any thought to his future?’ Arundel asked, folding his arms.
‘In what way?’ Edward eyed him alertly. ‘He shall be raised to knighthood in my household and receive the best training and education until he is of age. His brother will either join him or go to another great household soon – probably John and Blanche’s.’
‘Have you considered his marriage yet?’
So, this was where the approach was leading. ‘It is a matter for discussion with his mother and the King and Queen,’ Edward replied, affable but cautious. ‘I am not averse to suggestions if you have one for me.’
They walked along the edge of the practice ground lined with busy booths and stalls. Armourers and harness-makers plied their trade, along with bridle smiths and cutlers and an opportunistic purveyor of spiced gingerbread who was doing brisk business with the squires.
Arundel clasped his hands behind his back and measured his paces with a mariner’s rolling gait. ‘What would you say to matching your stepson with one of my daughters? You think well of the boy, and from what I have seen, and from what you say, I am disposed to think well of him also.’
Edward clasped his own hands behind his back, echoing Arundel. ‘Which daughter did you have in mind? Has she been to court? Have I seen her?’
They stopped and turned to watch Tom lining up to tilt at the ring with several other lads, including his brother Johan and Edward’s bastard son, Roger.
The youths took it in turn to charge their mounts at a garland hanging from a crossbar, attempting to lift it off its hook on the end of their blunt lance staves.
Tom successfully completed his turn, cleanly lifting the loop off the suspension hook.
He flashed a glance across to Edward and Arundel to see if they had been watching, and Edward raised his hand in acknowledgement and grinned.
For the next round, the diameter of the garlands would be smaller and harder to take.
‘I daresay you have,’ Arundel replied, ‘but you would not have paid any attention. Alys is here with her mother today – somewhere among the stalls as women always are. My daughter is the same age as your boy and a good girl – dutiful but not lacking spirit.’ His voice softened.
‘We love her dearly and wish to see her matched with someone who would be worthy of her.’
Edward pursed his lips. He did not know the girl although he must have seen her among the coterie of youngsters on various feast days, but if she was the same age as Tom, then they would know each other already and they could be moulded.
Quite what Jeanette would think he was unsure, given her own disastrous forced union to William Montagu in girlhood, when she had already made contract with Thomas Holland of her own free will.
She might well dig in her heels, especially as she had a tender place in her heart for Tom.
‘I cannot give you an answer now, nor would you expect it from me,’ he said, ‘but I shall talk with my wife and see what she has to say.’
Arundel inclined his head. ‘Of course. A man must be lord of his own household, but a part of that is keeping everyone in alliance.’
‘I am not refusing you, but it is a tactful courtesy to consult my wife, and I value her opinion. Have you spoken to your own on the matter?’
Arundel shrugged. ‘Eleanor thinks it a good match. We wish to arrange marriages for our daughters that will assure them secure and honourable futures.’
The men parted company, each in his own way satisfied with the discussion. Edward thought it advantageous to forge stronger links with Arundel and they already had connections, since his brother’s wife, Blanche of Lancaster, was Eleanor of Arundel’s niece.
Jeanette watched Edward relaxing in the bathtub following the day’s tourney sport.
His wet hair was slicked back from his forehead, and the sight of his muscular torso sent a pang through her comprising affection and lust. Bedding with him had lost its strangeness over the eight months of their marriage, and had become a familiar, but exciting, satisfying warmth.
This was their first opportunity to be alone today.
Earlier, in a public ceremony, they had presented alms to the Company of Friars, before taking part in the great procession to formally open the tournament with a parade of knights and ladies on brightly caparisoned destriers and palfreys.
Jeanette and Edward had led the array, Edward astride a muscular black destrier, and Jeanette, clad in blue and ermine, upon a matching palfrey, her red shoes peeping from beneath her velvet skirts.
Today, the preliminary bouts had taken place, the events choreographed for flourish and show.
The squires and younger knights, Tom among them, had displayed their fledgling skills at the quintain and at wrestling and fighting with staves.
A full week of jousts and displays was planned, with more serious business from the accomplished fighters to come later in the tourney.
Meeting Jeanette’s gaze, Edward dismissed his attendants and squires, including Tom and Roger.
‘Do not go far,’ he said as they made their exit.
‘I shall be needing you soon and you should change your own tunics for the banquet. No disappearing off to play camp ball and steal pastries from the kitchen door – I know what you lads are like.’
The boys departed, grinning and nudging each other. Jeanette dismissed her ladies and the bath attendants so they could be truly alone.
She refilled Edward’s cup and, coming to the bathtub, picked up a washcloth to rub his back.
She loved touching his body. Their relationship might not have the spark and fiery brightness she had experienced with Thomas, but the flame was a steady, warm glow, which softened and satisfied her like the perfect meal.
Her only concern was that despite her contentment, she had yet to conceive.
With Thomas, he only had to look at her and she got with child, but she and Edward had been sharing a bed since early October.
It was May now and she had bled every month so far.
Sometimes she worried that God was somehow punishing them.
The King and Queen might start to wonder if she was too old for their son – a barren furrow – and begin agitating for an annulment.
She needed to give Edward heirs, although he seemed nonchalant and not unduly bothered.
‘I received an interesting suggestion today.’ He rested one elbow on the side of the tub and, as he drank, told her what Richard FitzAlan of Arundel had proposed. ‘What do you think?’
Jeanette frowned, taken aback.
‘You disapprove?’
‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘Richard of Arundel is a useful ally given his wealth and standing. But Tom has his own value as the future Earl of Kent and your stepson. We must be very sure before we take this step. How important is a match with Arundel to you?’
Edward lowered the goblet. ‘It would certainly be of great benefit, both financially and in terms of alliance. We should give a betrothal serious consideration. We also need to think on the future of the others before we go to Aquitaine.’