He smiled. ‘But what?’
‘Do you have an opinion on the matter, Sir Josse?’ The teasing note was back. It was a shadow of its former self, but it was there.
‘I see no reason to suspend our relations,’ he said gravely. ‘We are, after all, both over the age of consent, and-’
‘Some of us further over than others,’ she put in.
‘- and there seems, on the face of it, no reason to abandon something which gives us both such pleasure.’ He held her face in his hands, meeting her eyes. ‘Shall we retire to bed, Joanna my sweet?’
She said, ‘Yes.’
But now, knowing he was to lose her, lovemaking was bitter-sweet. At one point, feeling tears on her face, he wanted to cry with her. Controlling himself, he hugged her close to him.
She said out of the darkness, ‘When God gave us the infinite gift of tears, Josse, I don’t think He said anything about their being used solely to bring comfort to women.’
And so he wept with her. It brought relief, of a sort.
* * *
In the early morning light, she got out of bed and dressed. He watched as she collected her few belongings together, stowing them into her pack. Her black-handled knife, he noticed, was once more in its sheath on her belt. Had it been she who removed it from Denys de Courtenay’s body? He imagined it had. Somehow he couldn’t see her allowing Will — allowing anybody — to touch her own personal weapon.
‘You are going,’ he said. It was not a question.
‘I am.’ She looked up. ‘I shall go first to Hawkenlye Abbey. If you think your Abbess will see me, I shall tell her what is planned for Ninian. Then I shall see him. I must explain to him why we-’ She stopped. Recovering herself, she said, ‘He needs to hear, from me, why I have arranged his future as I have.’
Wanting so desperately to console her, he said, ‘It need not be for ever, Joanna. He will always know where to find you, and he’ll be able to come to see you sometimes. Perhaps.’
She smiled at him. ‘Thank you for that, Josse. It is, as I know you intended it to be, a comfort. But I don’t think either of us truly believes it.’
He lay back. Just at that moment, he felt utterly exhausted.
She was ready to leave. Crossing to the bed, she bent over him and kissed him hard on the mouth. Then she said, ‘Will you be all right?’
‘Aye.’
‘I meant your arm,’ she said gently. ‘Will you get someone at the Abbey to look after it for you?’
‘Aye,’ he repeated.
She had crossed to the door, and was standing there looking back at him. ‘It wouldn’t have worked between us, you know,’ she said.
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because you’ve already given your-’ She stopped. ‘Never mind. I just know. Goodbye, Josse.’
She was already out of the door as he echoed, ‘Goodbye.’
Chapter Twenty
‘… and, with a last look over her shoulder, she was gone,’ Helewise said.
Josse, she noticed, seemed to be more his old self. It was now almost a fortnight since Joanna de Lehon — once more calling herself Joanna de Courtenay — had arrived at Hawkenlye, asked to see the Abbess, announced what she intended to do and sought out her son to say goodbye.
It had taken Helewise that fortnight to get over the experience.
‘She’s a most forceful young woman, isn’t she?’ Helewise went on. ‘She appears to know her own mind.’
‘Aye, she does that, all right,’ Josse agreed.
‘And strong,’ Helewise said. ‘I had the powerful impression that she is a born survivor.’
Josse sighed. ‘Aye.’ Then, with an obvious effort: ‘You spent some time in conversation with her, then, Abbess?’
‘No, indeed not.’ Their meeting, Helewise recollected, had been all too brief. ‘It was apparent that Joanna was steeling herself to do what she must do. I did not think it either right or kind to detain her by chattering away to her.’
He said, ‘How did she — how was she, having bid her adieu to her boy?’
Helewise had been trying not to think about that. Not very successfully. ‘As you would expect, Sir Josse. But, in Ninian’s presence, she maintained a cheerful expression. She even managed to laugh when he told her about being dressed up as a nun, when Denys de Courtenay came here searching for him. Of course, we all thought then that it was Joanna he wanted, but-
‘Dressed up as a nun?’
‘To hide him,’ she explained. ‘Where better to hide a tree than in a wood? In robe and veil, Ninian looked much like all the others, once his grubby boy’s hands were tucked out of sight. A little smaller, but then there are plenty of grown women of short stature.’
‘Joanna must have been grateful for that. I don’t think she knew de Courtenay had actually searched the Abbey.’
‘Indeed he did, and very thoroughly.’
There was a short pause. Then Josse said, ‘Abbess, will she be all right?’
Helewise composed her reply before uttering it. ‘I believe she will,’ she said eventually. ‘It near broke her heart to say goodbye to her son, but, as we walked to the gate, we comforted ourselves with the thought that, had she and Ninian remained where they were in her Breton knight’s house, the time would soon have arrived for Ninian to go away to another man’s household anyway, to begin his knightly apprenticeship. The break was harder for Joanna — for the boy, too — because they have spent these past months and years in such mutual dependence. But there would have been a break. And, I imagine, they both knew it, and had privately been preparing for it. I-’
She had been about to say, I certainly did, when it was my turn. But we are not speaking of me, she reminded herself.
It was a reminder she was needing quite frequently, at present.
Josse gave her a smile. ‘You comfort me, too,’ he said. ‘As always.’
She bowed her head, studying her hands folded in her lap. It was not easy to accept his generous words, when her conscience was pricking her. Perhaps she should … No. Euphemia could so easily have been mistaken.
‘… out in the wildwood?’ Josse was saying.
‘I’m sorry, Sir Josse, what did you say?’
He looked at her curiously. ‘You were not attending, Abbess!’
‘No, I was thinking of Joanna. You were speaking of the wildwood?’
‘Aye. I was wondering how you thought she would fare. living in Mag Hobson’s old shack. She did tell you of her intention, to continue learning the old crafts?’
‘She did. And I think she will do very well. Sir Josse, bearing in mind Joanna’s character and her recent past, I truly believe her best chance of happiness — perhaps her only one — is to detach from the world she has known. It has treated her roughly, and she bears a heavy burden of resentment and anger. Living alone out there in the woods, with nature all around her, she will have a tough life, but I believe it will heal her. She needs, above everything, to be mistress of herself. I feel that she will find contentment. I pray that she will.’
‘Amen to that,’ Josse muttered. Then: ‘You are easy with yourself, living with the knowledge that she is out there in the forest, consorting with Mag Hobson’s old friends, learning all that they will pass on to her?’
Easy with myself? Helewise thought. No, I am not. For, despite her strength and her self-sufficiency, Joanna is a human being, needing love, as do we all. Needing God’s help and blessing, as do we all. Yet there she will be, alone, turning her back on Our Lord, following the old ways …
But, then, it was Joanna’s choice. And, as Helewise herself had just said, Joanna knew her own mind.
Something told her not to repeat these reservations to Josse. Making herself face him, forcing a bright smile, she said, ‘I must be easy with myself, Josse. As must you be. For Joanna has made her decision, and we must live with it.’
He was getting to his feet, preparing to leave. He still moved his right arm stiffly; Helewise had seen the wound, when Sister Euphemia dressed it earlier, and, even in its largely healed state, the sight of the great slash had near made her pass out. He had been lucky not to lose the use of the arm; the cut had gone deep into the muscle.