Chapter 12 Poitiers, Aquitaine, November 1363 #4
‘I have acted thoughtlessly,’ he admitted, giving her a pleading look, ‘and for that I beg your forgiveness. I swear on my oath, it will be my pleasure and my duty humbly to right the wrong I have done you – beginning now if you wish.’
Jeanette shook her head, furious with him. ‘No,’ she said. ‘You cannot think I shall easily pardon you. It was not done unthinkingly, but rather with your own desires in mind.’
He swallowed hard. ‘You are the love of my life. Can we not mend this and begin again – with a new wedding night if you wish?’
‘Now you have been found out, you mean?’ she said scornfully. ‘How long would you have continued in this way had I not hit on the truth?’
He lowered his head. ‘I confess I had not thought beyond the moment, even though I knew time was harrying my heels.’
She curled her lip. ‘I could have an annulment for this!’
He paled. ‘You would not.’
‘No, I would not. I am true, Edward. I have always been true. Now it is your turn to be true to me. No more falsehoods – ever.’
‘I swear it.’
‘Why should I believe anything you swear after this?’
‘I have never desired anyone but you.’ He extended his hand to her, beseeching. ‘I wanted to keep you safe from the perils of childbirth. I saw the price my mother paid, year in, year out. Many women die who would otherwise have lived. I didn’t want to risk losing you.’
‘That is my risk to take, and my battle to fight.’ She swiped furious tears from her face with the heel of her hand.
‘You men, you go off to war, full knowing you might not return. You leave your wives and children and expect them to make the sacrifice. You have always taken risks, hoping for God’s grace.
There are many other ways to die than in war or childbed.
We survived the great pestilence fifteen years ago when so many perished .
. . and have perished untimely since.’ Her voice stumbled on the last part.
‘We should seize the moment and live in it. You should know this most of all!’
‘You rightly castigate me and take me to task, but I did it to keep you safe. Even a prince and battle commander can be afraid – nay, terrified.’ His hand remained extended to her, but she did not take it. ‘Let us go to church tomorrow and ask for God’s blessing and mercy.’
She pressed her lips together, feeling conflicted and raw.
‘I will seek God’s forgiveness too – and yours, if you will give it.’
‘I will think on it.’ She wasn’t prepared to absolve him yet for what he had done.
He rose to his feet, put on his shoes and, taking his cloak, went to the door. There he paused and looked at her over his shoulder, not speaking, his pleading expression more eloquent than words.
The door closed behind him and the latch clicked down.
Jeanette turned to the bed they had been sharing so amicably only moments since and sat down on the covers, rumpled by companionship, scattered with crumbs.
The dogs came to lick her, and she pushed them off.
Picking up the empty platter, she hurled it at the wall and then pressed her face into her hands and wept, calling Edward all names under the sun.
She was sick with fury, hurt and betrayed.
What might have been. Always what might have been.
Eventually, she wiped her eyes, drank a cup of wine, and swept the crumbs from the bed.
She and Edward had to move forward from here, and her anger had not turned love to hate.
As her mind calmed, she began to consider and then understand his reasons with more nuance.
He was fearful for her, and for himself too.
He had shown her a vulnerable place within himself that he would never reveal to the world, and her fury softened.
She curled up on the bed and, as she blew out the candle, vowed that tomorrow would indeed be a new beginning. She had learned a great deal about Edward tonight, and about herself and her own power.
The next day, Jeanette knelt with Edward in the cathedral church of St André in Bordeaux and received communion, and a blessing that their marriage might be fruitful. She could feel the frisson between their bodies, tense and tingling like sparks on her skin.
That morning at dawn she had sent her chaplain to Edward, saying she would come to the chapel at midday and stand with him to make confession and receive a blessing on their marriage that it might be fruitful.
Edward had sent her a gift of prayer beads carved from clear rock crystal by way of an answer, and she had reciprocated with a pendant cross set with rubies, which he now wore on his breast.
Rising from his knees, Edward turned to her. ‘My dearest wife, lady of my heart, my treasure and my queen, may I visit your chamber tonight? Shall it be your will to let me in?’
Jeanette gazed at his upturned face, and the sensation of power awakening from dormancy stirred through her again, as it had the previous night.
She imagined refusing him, although it went no further than her mind.
‘It is my will,’ she said. ‘If you grant me mine, then so shall I grant yours, as God is my true witness.’
That night Edward came to her chamber as a supplicant, wearing a plain white shirt as he had done on the night of their marriage, topped by an open cloak for warmth, and Jeanette awaited him in her wedding chemise. She locked her gaze with his as he set his arms around her waist.
‘I vow to you from this day forth that I shall endeavour to do your will in every way,’ he said.
Jeanette laughed ruefully and shook her head.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘You will still go your own way and be your own man, I know this, and I would be destroying your manhood if I insisted otherwise. Sometimes pleasing me is the last thing that would be good for you. But be honest with me and consider what I should have as your true wife and sweetheart. Do right by me – and that involves more than luxurious trappings and purses of gold. What use are diamond buttons when they come with a serving of deceit?’
‘I wanted to keep you safe.’ He pressed a kiss to her throat.
‘I understand that now, and I acknowledge your concern, but my ripe years are dwindling. By the very wheels of time, I shall never endure the same toils as your mother. I am willing to risk my own battle – as you risk yours with your sword.’
‘I admit my blame,’ he confessed. ‘I give myself willingly to our purpose in full knowledge and in the hope of God’s mercy.’
They lay down together and she looked into his eyes, because this moment was sacred and she wanted him to know that this was more than love, far greater than lust. It was the forging of destiny. ‘Then let us help ourselves by helping God,’ she said as she arched her body and opened to his.