Her sister Elizabeth was also at Court. She had lost her husband almost two years ago and had, after a suitable interval, come home to England. There had been rumours that the Earl of Holland had been poisoned; he had had so many enemies and as he had died of a dysentery – as so many people did – this could have been a possibility.
However, like all of Edward’s daughters she had never wanted to leave England and was delighted to be back. She had confided to Joanna that when she married again it would be in England. ‘You did,’ she said. ‘I shall do the same.’
‘You may need a certain amount of cunning,’ replied Joanna.
‘Then I shall come to you to help me.’
Joanna laughed aloud and said her wits were at her sister’s disposal.
Then they talked of their sister Margaret who had been less fortunate than they. From all accounts Margaret had a good deal to endure from Duke John of Brabant.
‘He fills his palaces with his bastards,’ said Joanna. ‘I’d not endure that.’
‘It is easy to say you would not when you don’t have to.’
‘Margaret was always too meek. If I were her I should ask our father to use his influence on her husband and make him stop his philanderings.’
‘Do you think he would?’
‘At least he would have to philander in secret which could be undignified for a ruler. But Margaret has the bastards there and treats them with honour.’
‘She always had a gentle loving nature. And now she has a son, I daresay she is happy enough.’
‘It would not be enough for me. But our sister Margaret is like the Queen. She needs little to satisfy her. She has her young Thomas whom she believes to be the most perfect child ever born, and now there will be this new one. It would not surprise me if young Thomas went the way of our brothers John and Henry. He has a delicate look about him.’
‘Oh, do you think so?’
‘Undoubtedly, and I don’t like his French nurse.’
‘She seemed pleasant enough.’
‘I think that a prince of the royal house should have an English nurse. We do not want French customs here.’
‘The Queen seems happy with her.’
‘Of course she is. They chatter away in French all the time. It makes her feel at home. But I don’t think she is good for the child and he does look delicate.’
It was clear, thought Elizabeth, that Joanna had taken a dislike to their half-brother’s French nurse, but it was a fact, however, that young Thomas was showing a certain delicacy.
Joanna pointed it out often to Elizabeth. She was irritated by the Queen’s fussing over her children. Joanna had little time for hers. Nurses were engaged for children, she said, and if they were good tried English ones all was usually well.
The King came to visit his family. A short respite, he thought, before he had to return to Scotland, which seemed to be inevitable at some time in the future. He could not expect peace to reign much longer; in any case he was determined to subdue Scotland as he had Wales.
Elizabeth thought he looked older and tired. She had heard how he had broken his ribs and gone into battle, which was characteristic of him of course, and although it might have won a battle it had certainly not improved his health. Because he was so vital he sometimes forgot how old he was.
Joanna, concerned with her own affairs, did not notice that the King was looking tired and old.
She enquired of him how he found young Thomas. Did he not think the child was pale and had he noticed his cough?
The King was horrified. He had noticed these things and was trying to persuade himself that Thomas was suffering from the ailments of childhood and would grow out of them. He said so to Joanna.
‘I believe the same thing was said about our brothers John and Henry,’ persisted Joanna. ‘I know what is wrong with Thomas. It is that French nurse. She coddles him too much; she overfeeds him. She brings French customs into your Court.’
‘Do you really think it can be so?’ murmured Edward.
‘My lord, I am the mother of children.’
She was, he thought, but it was said not a very good mother. She left her children a great deal with their nurses – even more so than was necessary – that she might be constantly in the company of her husband.
It was true Eleanor had left the children to follow him into battle and he had always thought her the best of mothers. Marguerite might have to do the same if the Scottish war broke out.
He watched the French nurse. Joanna had sown seeds of doubt in his heart.
He spoke to Marguerite about it. ‘My dear,’ he said, ‘I do not think the French nurse is the best for Thomas.’
‘Oh, but she loves him so.’
‘Perhaps that is why she overindulges him.’
‘Do you wish me to speak to her …?’
‘No, my love. I will arrange for an English nurse. Joanna knows the very one.’
‘But …’
He patted her hand. ‘The French nurse shall be sent back to France. I shall reward her well so that she thinks happily of her stay in England.’
Marguerite had difficulty in restraining her tears, but she managed to because she knew that Edward did not like them. She wanted to protest, Joanna has done this. But how could she make trouble between the King and his daughters!
What could she do but accept the decision? She was too much in awe of her husband to do otherwise and she did not want to offend Joanna.
By a strange coincidence when the new nurse came Thomas’s health began to improve. Joanna was triumphant and commented continually on Master Thomas’s rosy cheeks. ‘He has completely lost his cough,’ she said. And she reminded the King that she had brought about this happy state of affairs.
Poor Marguerite felt sad and lonely without the nurse, for it had been so comforting to talk of home sometimes.
Then the Court adjourned to Woodstock for it had turned very hot and the air was considered to be good there. On the fifth of August Marguerite gave birth there to another boy. She called this one Edmund.
Two months later on the fourth of October Joanna’s son was born. He was named Thomas. Joanna was delighted that the irksome business was over and left Court to return to Gloucester.
The Princess Elizabeth was determined to follow the advice of her sister Joanna. She was so happy to be back in England and had confided in her sister that she was going to find a handsome husband and marry him before her father found some foreign prince for her.
‘You have always said that as we married once for state reasons, the second time we should choose for love.’
‘I have and always shall,’ affirmed Joanna.
‘You have never regretted it?’
‘Never,’ declared Joanna; and Elizabeth thought that Ralph de Monthermer must be a very unusual man to have won her wayward sister’s affection so whole-heartedly.
Joanna was young and beautiful but there were times when Elizabeth felt that the flush in her cheeks was a little too bright and her beautiful eyes too brilliant. It was almost as though there was so much fire in Joanna that it was burning her up.
But Elizabeth was too concerned with her own affairs just then to think over-much about her sister. She had found the man she wanted to marry. He was Humphrey de Bohun, the Earl of Hereford and Essex and High Constable of England. He was also a very rich young man, witty and high-spirited. As soon as Elizabeth saw him she wanted him.
The King was at first not inclined to agree to the marriage for daughters should be good bargaining counters, but when she reminded him that he had allowed Joanna her free choice it was hard to resist. However, if he had retorted that Joanna had married without his consent, that might be considered an invitation for her to do the same. Events weighed heavily on him. He suffered pain in his ribs for he had never fully recovered from that accident. His doctors said that he should not have ridden into battle in that state and it was not surprising that he still felt pain.