‘John…’ I whispered aghast.

He shook his head but I persisted. When he might have pulled away, I held onto his shoulders so that he must look at me. It was all I could give him. And by some strange female intuition, I realised what it must be to make such pain live in his eyes. The breath continued to shudder in his lungs.

‘It’s the Prince, isn’t it?’

‘He’s dying.’

My heart throbbed with reflected pain. His much-loved older brother, his hero, the perfect prince.

‘I doubt my brother will live to see our father die.’ And then because the pain had spread its tendrils much further: ‘What will England do with a child king? I doubt Richard will be more than ten years when the crown drops into his lap. What then?’

‘I will tell you what then,’ I replied with smooth urgency, fastening my hands tight around his wrists. ‘You will stand at Richard’s side. You will support and guide him until he is of an age to rule in his own right. You will do it for your father and your brother and because it is your duty to your name and to England. That is what will happen.’

I could not reassure him about the Prince’s health, but I could paint a bright picture of the future in which his role would be so very important. I pressed my lips against his brow as I felt at last an infinitesimal softening in his shoulders.

‘You see it very clearly,’ he observed.

‘I see the truth,’ I replied. Here was no place for doubts, and so I lightened my tone. ‘Would you argue the point with me? I don’t advise it.’

And the Duke’s eyes were now clearer, and his mouth curved in a vestige of a smile. ‘My thanks, Lady de Swynford.’

‘My pleasure, my lord,’ I responded archly, still intent on distraction because I could do no other. ‘And I have to say, you have eaten all my sweet pears.’

‘I have?’

I nudged the empty bowl with my toe. ‘What do I demand in reparation? I swear you have as great a sweet tooth as young Henry, and I’ve never seen any boy clear a dish of marchpane as fast as he can.’

He laughed, a little rough at the edges, but still a laugh. It was not from his heart, and I had perforce to accept the limitations on my powers. It was his brother who weighed heavily in his mind, and I had to allow it as I acknowledged that I could do nothing to lift the burden, and yet my heart was steadier, for the Duke had opened a new door for me, one that I had never been allowed to step through before, allowing me the right to trespass in his own emotions and fears. But only as far as he saw fit. All I could do, with gratitude that he gave me freedom to know the thoughts that troubled him, was distract and wrap him around with my love when he needed it. It was my pleasure and my heart’s delight to do so. I knew that he laid that burden down before no one else.

Was it not a precious milestone in the journey that we were travelling together?

‘You should sleep now, John,’ I said.

And he did, deep and dreamless. For the first time, I thought, for many nights. I lay awake to watch over him. Was that not the essence of love? It was for me. Sometimes it was all I could do for him. And was that not another lesson for me to learn? I had had no recognition of the inner strength I would need to draw on as the truth of our relationship was exposed. Now as our love grew, I needed to be strong for him too. For who else was there for him to turn to in grief or despair?

He could turn to me, and I would answer all his needs.

It had its repercussions, our reconciliation at The Savoy. When the Duke left Tutbury, en route to London in August to commemorate the sixth anniversary of Duchess Blanche’s death, he held me close in a final embrace, for I was not to accompany him. His arms were firm, his lips soft, then he raised his head and looked at me. And looked again, trailing the palm of his hand over the panels of my close-cut gown.

I drew in and held my breath, perhaps still a little nervous.

‘Are you breeding?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

‘When?’

‘At the start of the new year.’

‘Does it please you?’

‘Yes.’

‘It pleases me too.’

He kissed me, lingeringly gentle but with the underlying passion that was now part of my life. I smiled. I would never again need to flee in fear that the Duke would reject me and this new child. Our love would stand firm against everything.




Chapter Twelve

She had the dreaded sweating sickness.