Edward’s health was an anxiety but she was convinced that if she could keep him at home and look after him herself and there was no more of this senseless going to war he would become robust again. That would mean more argument of course but she would face that when it came. The important task now was to restore him to health.

So there was the bustle of imminent departure in the castle.

Joan explained to the little boys who were very excited at the prospect of a journey with their parents.

They listened attentively. Edward wanted to know what would happen to his falcon and his horse.

‘My darling,’ said Joan, ‘you will have many falcons and horses in England.’

‘May I take my books?’ asked Richard.

‘We shall see, my love.’

‘Shall we see the King?’ asked Edward.

‘I am sure he will want to see you.’

‘He is our grandfather,’ said Richard.

‘And he has my name,’ added Edward proudly. ‘The King is Edward, my father is Edward and so am I. Edward is a King’s name.’

‘So is Richard, is it not, my lady? There was a King Richard. He was very brave.’

‘There was only one Richard but there have been three Edwards,’ said Edward scornfully, ‘and my father will be the fourth and I the fifth.’

They heard talk these boys, thought Joan uneasily. So young Edward already knew that he was destined for a throne. She would rather he had not heard of this. Edward had said: ‘You want to keep them babies for ever just as you want to keep me under your wing. You’re like a mother hen.’

She supposed she was. Yet she had wanted to marry the heir to the throne – not just because he was the heir, of course; but she had been pleased at the prospect of becoming Queen. Now she was more mature she could visualise the anxieties of kingship. When one was young and inexperienced one thought only of those ceremonial moments when the ruler appeared all powerful, all glorious, but there was another side to the picture.

She said sternly to little Edward: ‘That will not be for many many years.’

‘What shall I be?’ asked Richard.

‘You will be my little son.’

‘He won’t always be your little son,’ Edward pointed out.

‘To me he will,’ said Joan.

She put her arms about him and held him tightly. She felt his thin body and wished he would put on a little more flesh to be more like his robust brother.

Edward started to pull his brother away. He was a little jealous of her preference for Richard although it was clear that he himself was his father’s favourite.

Joan felt Edward’s hands which seemed to her over hot.

She touched his forehead. That was also very hot. There was a flush on the boy’s cheeks too, and she noticed that his eyes seemed unusually bright.

‘Do you feel hot, Edward?’ she asked.

He considered. ‘A little,’ he replied.

She ruffled his hair and laughed at him. She was, as the Prince said, like an old hen with her brood.

She left the boys and went to her husband. He was lying on his bed rather restlessly. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping.

As she went close to him she heard him murmuring. He was saying something about Limoges.

She sat down by the bed and took his hand.

‘All is well, Edward. I am here. You are in your bed here with me beside you.’

‘Jeanette,’ he said.

‘Your own Jeanette,’ she replied.

‘How long have you been there?’

‘I have just come in to see how you are.’

‘I was dreaming,’ he said, and she felt him shiver.

‘I know. You must forget it. It’s over now.’

‘I cannot think what possessed me. Some devil I think.’

‘It was the fever.’

‘Those people … innocent people … I would have had the Bishop’s head if John had not restrained me.’

‘It is done with, Edward. It is this war that goes on and on. We are all heartily tired of it.’

‘That must not be until we have the crown of France.’

She sighed. ‘Well, you are going to be away from it for a while. We shall rest in peace in Berkhamsted while I nurse you back to health.’

‘I wish I had never gone to Limoges …’

‘Stop thinking of Limoges. It is over now.’

‘Never before in all my life have I done such a thing. It will be remembered against me. I shall never be known for my chivalry again.’

‘You had to take the town. You had to show them. You spared the old Bishop did you not? Enough of Limoges. Let me tell you how excited the children are. Edward wants to see his grandfather.’

‘I am wondering what we shall find at Court. John says that woman openly flaunts her influence over the King.’

‘These tales are always exaggerated.’

‘It is hard to believe that my father could behave thus.’

‘People are always behaving in a way which it is hard to believe, which shows that we don’t know each other very well. Perhaps we don’t know ourselves.’

‘No. Limoges …’

‘Enough of Limoges. I am going to bring the children to see you. Edward wants to know which of the horses and falcons are going with us.’

The Prince smiled.

‘You would like to see them, my love?’ she went on.

He nodded.

‘I will bring them myself.’

When she went to the nurseries she was met by a solemn-faced attendant.

‘The Lord Edward is unwell, my lady,’ she was told. ‘One of the women has gone in search of you. He seems to have a high fever.’


* * *

It had happened so suddenly. A few days before he had been full of health and high spirits and now he lay there limp and exhausted by the struggle to stay alive.

The Prince had risen from his bed. He was as one demented. What could have happened? How could God be so cruel as to take this beloved child from him?

Even Joan could not deceive herself or him. He saw the terrible fear in her eyes.

‘There is hope yet,’ said the doctors. But there was no hope.

They sat beside his bed – the Prince on one side, Joan on the other. The child sensed their presence and was comforted by it.

‘Father …’ he whispered.

‘I am here, my son.’

Little Edward smiled, while Joan bent and kissed the hand which lay in hers.

‘You will soon be well, my darling. We shall go to England. There you shall have a new falcon.’

The child smiled slowly.

They continued to sit by his bedside.

The doctors hovered.

‘Is there nothing … nothing to be done?’ demanded the Prince.

The doctors shook their heads sorrowfully.

There was nothing to be done then but to sit there while that young life ebbed away.


* * *

The Prince was inconsolable. He paced his bedchamber; he sat on his bed and buried his face in his hands.

‘My son, my son,’ he mourned. ‘How could this be?’

Then in his mind he heard the cries of women and children being put to the sword. Mothers, fathers had lost their children. They had loved them as he had loved Edward and he had destroyed them.

It is retribution, he thought. Oh my God, why did You not guide me? Why did You let me betray my chivalry? The fever was on me … I was a changed man. I know it. You know it … yet You punish me like this.

Joan came to him. ‘It is no use, Edward,’ she said. ‘Nothing we do or say can bring him back.’

‘But why … why …? It seems so senseless.’

‘Many things are senseless in this world, I fear.’

‘This child … I cherished him so.’

‘Too much,’ she said. ‘Too much.’

‘You loved him too.’

‘He was my son. I loved him and his brother. You still have a son, Edward.’

‘I fear for him.’

‘He is strong and healthy.’

‘Edward was stronger and healthier.’

‘Nothing shall happen to Richard.’

‘How can we know what punishment God will mete out to us?’

‘We will have more sons, Edward. As many as your father has.’

‘I am a sick man.’

‘When we are in England you will grow strong again. I promise you, Edward, in England life will be good. We have suffered this terrible tragedy but it is over now. We have our little Richard. We will have more sons. Edward, look forward, my love. Put the past behind you.’

He turned to her and clung to her as though he were a child.

She could offer him some comfort. She was the only one in the world who could.

She made him lie on his bed and later she brought Richard to him.

The little boy looked bewildered. He was only four years old and he could not quite understand what had happened to his brother.

His mother had tried to explain. Edward had gone away. He had gone to Heaven.

‘Am I going too?’ he had wanted to know.

‘Not for years and years.’

‘If Edward goes I want to go.’

‘No, dearest, you are going to stay with me and your father. But you have to learn quickly now. It is different being without a brother.’

He was not altogether displeased. He sensed that Edward’s departure had made him more important. He noticed the change in people’s attitude towards him. He had become of some consequence in a subtle way.

His father was seated on a chair in his bedchamber and he held out his hand when Richard entered.

Richard put his hand in his father’s.

‘You are my heir now, Richard,’ said the Prince. ‘Do you know what that means?’

Richard was not quite sure. He said: ‘It is because Edward has gone to Heaven.’