Secrets at Court. Blythe Gifford

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      ‘Yes.’ In the best of circumstances, the couple would have needed the Pope’s permission to wed, since they were closely related. But they had made the situation much, much worse, by marrying in secret. Then they had dumped their sins in Nicholas’s lap, expecting him to untangle the mess to their satisfaction. ‘His Holiness will overlook your consanguinity and also set aside your clandestine marriage. You will be allowed to wed in a church-sanctioned union.’

      Allowed to marry and share their lives. And the throne.

      Relief. The hard, silent expressions melted. Eyes, lips, shoulders, tongues let loose. How quickly? How soon?

      He raised his voice to answer with a tone of caution. ‘Also,’ he added, ‘His Holiness requires that each of you build and endow a chapel.’

      Neither the Prince nor the Lady Joan bothered to respond to what would be a minor inconvenience. Instead, Prince Edward held out his hand. ‘The document.’ A demand. ‘Give it to me.’

      ‘It will be sent directly to the Archbishop of Canterbury. I expect he will receive it near Michaelmas. Until then, you must live separately.’

      The Prince and his lady turned their eyes on him, as if he, instead of the Pope, had forbidden them their bed. As if two months apart were a lifetime.

      Well, that was not the worst of it. ‘And there is one more thing,’ he said.

      Hard silence fell again. They quieted, knowing he had more news to deliver and that it would not be as pleasant as the last.

      ‘What?’ The King, of course. He would ever be allowed to speak first. ‘What more?’

      ‘A private message will accompany the document. His Holiness asked that I tell you what it will contain.’

      It took only a glance from the King. The few attendants with them withdrew, leaving him alone with the royal family.

      ‘Go on,’ the King said.

      ‘Before they marry,’ Nicholas began, ‘His Holiness requires...’ Now for the words he had rehearsed. ‘The Lady Joan’s marriage to Salisbury was annulled.’

      The Prince frowned. ‘Years ago. That is ancient history.’

      Nicholas glanced at Joan, amazed to see her half smile unshaken. ‘But it was annulled,’ he continued, ‘when a previous, secret marriage was upheld.’

      ‘All here are aware of my past,’ the lady said.

      The King and Queen exchanged glances. Everyone in England was aware of Joan’s past. It had not made the Prince’s case for marriage any easier.

      Nicholas gritted his teeth. There was no easy way to say what he must. ‘Lady Joan, you were once married to two men, one of whom still lives.’ He saw a flush on her cheek. ‘His Holiness asks that before your marriage to the Prince proceeds, an investigation be conducted in the matter of your previous marriage.’

      ‘Why?’ It was the Prince who asked, blinded by love to the obvious.

      ‘To be sure,’ Nicholas said, unable to keep the irritation from his voice, ‘that all was in order.’

      The Prince stepped toward him, fists raised, and for a moment Nicholas thought the man would, indeed, punish him for the news he brought. ‘You dare imply—’

      The King stayed his hand. ‘Sir Nicholas is not the one who asks for the enquiry.’

      Spared, Nicholas waited until the Prince folded his fists into his elbows, then continued. ‘I am bringing this news to you ahead of the Pope’s official notice so that you may have time to prepare.’

      The Lady Joan’s smile never wavered. Her face was so lovely you did not bother to wonder what lay behind it. ‘So that when the Pope’s official decree arrives, we can wed immediately.’ She turned to the Prince. ‘He does us a kindness. The matter is easily resolved.’

      So the Pope expected, Nicholas was certain. His dispensation would arrive in little more than two months, scarcely time to conduct a thorough investigation.

      Lady Joan turned her smile on Nicholas. ‘All was done correctly in the nullification of my marriage to Salisbury.’

      Most women would never have risked a clandestine marriage. This woman had dared two. Her first, to Thomas Holland, twenty-one years ago, was ultimately validated. As a result, she was allowed to put aside her subsequent union with Salisbury and return to Holland instead.

      All enough to confuse even the most learned of church scholars.

      ‘His Holiness is not only interested in that one,’ Nicholas said, dreading what would come next.

      They stared at him as if he had spoken Greek.

      ‘What do you mean?’ Lady Joan’s voice had an edge he had not heard before.

      Obviously, they had not grasped the full meaning of the message. ‘He wants more than the nullification investigated. He wants confirmation of the legitimacy of your secret union with Holland.’

      Her eyes widened and narrowed. A woman unaccustomed to being questioned, even to prove something as simple as what had already been blessed by a previous pope. ‘I don’t understand. The Pope, all his people...it took years, but they were satisfied. Surely there could be no question now.’

      ‘A formality, no doubt.’ The King, near as adept at government as he was at war. ‘The Archbishop will assemble a panel of bishops. They will review the documents. It will be done.’

      ‘The Archbishop is in his seventh decade,’ the Prince snapped. ‘I doubt he can even find the documents, let alone read them.’

      ‘If not,’ Nicholas said, ‘perhaps he could question those involved.’

      For the first time, Joan’s lips tightened and he could see the fine lines radiating from them like the rays of the sun. The woman was, after all, beyond thirty. ‘My husband is dead. There is no one to question but me.’

      No witnesses, of course. The very definition of a clandestine marriage was that the participants made their vows to each other alone. But there must be other ways. There always were. ‘Perhaps someone remembers the two of you together at that time.’ Perhaps someone witnessed the Lady Joan and Thomas Holland kissing in corners.

      He looked to the Queen, trying to assess her thoughts. The young Joan had been part of her household back then, near a daughter. Awkward, but they had been through this before. The Queen, no doubt, could satisfy any questions.

      Fortunately, it would not be his concern. He had delivered his message. By next week, he would be on his way to France, with no responsibility other than to stay alive.

      ‘I don’t understand,’ Lady Joan said, looking at the Prince as if he might save her. ‘What can be the purpose of this?’

      Queen Philippa leaned over to pat her hand. ‘There must be no question.’

      ‘Question about what?’ The Countess, СКАЧАТЬ