Chapter 6

The new Countess of Gloucester had not been nimble enough for a quick escape when she emerged from the chapel on Gilbert's arm. Noble females of every age to whom weddings held a special fascination quickly surrounded her.

Sylvia de Warenne joined the ladies showering the bride with rice, and their feminine shrieks of laughter filled the Lower Ward.

John de Warenne joined his nephew. "I expected that Warwick would approach me. Has he spoken to you yet?"

"No, I haven't seen him. My wife insisted we go to the chapel early so we would get a seat close to the front. I warrant that weddings don't hold the same fascination for Warwick as they do for most noble ladies," Lynx said dryly.

The two men walked apart from the revelers, where their conversation would not be overheard. "I've been toying with the idea of deliberately mistaking Warwick's offer to be on his son's behalf when he approaches me. That way I could inform him that we consider Rickard far too young for Jory."

The earl was not amused. "As a man of mature years, I can assure you that nothing would offend him quite as much as being considered too old for Lady Marjory, or any other lady."

"You are right, of course. Warwick is in his prime. His pride would be insulted by such an insinuation."

"I believe the best approach is to tell him we have had other offers and since any issue of a union between him and Marjory could never become his heir, she has chosen to wed Humphrey de Bohun, the Constable of England's son and heir."

"You know how willful she is. What if Jory chooses Guy de Beauchamp over Humphrey de Bohun?"

"She mustn't be allowed to choose. We will inform her only of de Bohun's offer of marriage."

Lynx was taken aback. "I cannot lie to my sister, John."

"We won't be lying. We simply won't tell her that Warwick has offered for her. If any lies are necessary, as her legal guardian, I'll be the one to tell them. A small sin, surely, to keep our beloved Jory from ruining her life?"

Lynx thought it over and conceded. "Her happiness and well-being must take precedence over my conscience."

The timing of the wedding banquet, which would not begin until late afternoon, helped Jory accomplish many of the last-minute tasks that must be completed before the Earl and Countess of Gloucester could depart for their country mansion at Clerkenwell the next morning. She supervised the servants as they crated up all the wedding presents that Joanna and Gilbert had received. Among the gifts were forty golden cups, forty silver forks, and twenty zones of vibrantly colored silk, many of which were shot through with real silver threads. There were so many hampers, coffers, baskets, and bags, it was difficult to keep track of them all, and Jory made a list, tallying each item as it was carried off to be packed in carts that would be pulled by sumpter horses.

For three days Joanna's attendants had been packing her wardrobe and her vast collection of jewelry, but these were not the only possessions that were to accompany the Plantagenet princess. Her chapel apparatus, her chamber furnishings, pantry stores, table linen, and candles, as well as her kitchen furniture, were all being transferred to Clerkenwell.

Jory, feeling as if she needed to be in three different places at once, somehow managed to pack her own personal belongings and her considerable wardrobe in between her other tasks. Inside, she was bubbling with happiness, knowing that sometime soon, she too would be a bride. In the past week her life had suddenly taken an exciting turn when she had fallen in love with Guy de Beauchamp.

At the evening wedding banquet, Jory kept watch for Warwick. The hall was crowded with celebrants as they dined on course after course, beginning with marinated eel, pickled herring, fresh oysters, and shelled prawns. Next came chestnut-stuffed game birds and lemon venison with fennel. Toasted garlic and thyme custards, huge platters of scallion bread, and roasted potatoes vied with dishes of leeks, marrows, and pure white clusters of cauliflower.

The sweet course was amazing for its diversity as well as its decorative effects. Plates of cream-filled éclairs competed with ginger-walnut tortes. Gooseberry, quince, and blackberry tarts tempted the guests, along with fig and cherry gateaux with lemon curd. The huge wedding cake was a marvel of decoration, packed with dried fruit and lucky silver bridal charms and covered with a thick slab of almond paste. Royal lions and tiny gilded Gloucester pigs, molded from sugar, sat atop the gigantic confection and elicited smiles from all the noble ladies.

Liveried servants moved about filling goblets with wine imported from Gascony, or cider from Devon. The men who preferred home-brewed ale found their tankards filled again and again. All the while minstrels and musicians strolled among the guests, singing and playing everything from love ballads to rousing epics of valor.

Jory's glance roamed about the crowded hall, hoping for a glimpse of Guy. Surely she could not miss such a striking male if he were present at the banquet tonight. By the time the tables were cleared and pushed back to make room for dancing, she was convinced Warwick was not there. Dancing was included strictly for the ladies. Noblemen from the king on down through the ranks much preferred drinking and gambling to prancing about. King Edward danced with the bride, as did the Earl of Gloucester, but the moment each had performed his obligatory measure, they left the dancing to the younger men.

Both Henry and Humphrey de Bohun partnered Joanna; then Humphrey led Jory into the dance, while her brother and her uncle watched with approval. Jory was totally distracted, watching and waiting for Guy de Beauchamp. She feared he had taken ill, and the moment she felt that she could slip away unnoticed, she left and made her way to the chamber he had been assigned at Windsor. When she found it locked and in darkness, she hurried to the stables, where she saw that Caesar's stall was empty. She was relieved to know he was able to ride, which eliminated his being sick.

Jory laughed at her own vanity. He was an earl with much responsibility who had far more to occupy him than dancing attendance upon her day and night. "He must have been called away unexpectedly…perhaps regarding his son at King's Langley." Since it was a distance of less than a dozen miles, Jory told herself he would soon return. "I wonder if he spoke to Lynx before he left?" Jory hurried back to the hall and sought out her brother.

She joined the de Warenne men, who were watching Sylvia dance a lively measure with the elegant Thomas of Lancaster, nephew of King Edward and hereditary high steward of England.

Lynx smiled at his sister. "If you stand beside me, Minx, Lancaster will most likely partner you when he returns my wife."

"I hope not…I have no desire to dance with him."

Her uncle John chided her. "Lancaster holds five earldoms and also is heir to his wife's father, de Lacy's earldom of Lincoln. It would not be politic to offend Thomas Plantagenet."

Jory smiled. "I am not in the habit of offending royal gentlemen. Certes I will dance with him if he wishes it." She turned to Lynx and murmured, "Did the earl offer for me yet?"

"Jory, we have received an offer for you, but—"

John cut in before Lynx could tell her who had made the offer. "We are still negotiating and cannot speak of it yet."

"But, Uncle, I leave for Clerkenwell early tomorrow."

"Have no fear. The king has called Parliament, so we shall all be journeying from Windsor to Westminster shortly. We will summon you to Westminster Palace when our negotiations near completion."

Jory smiled radiantly and accepted another offer to dance from Humphrey de Bohun. When the dance ended, she saw that Joanna was preparing to retire. She told him, "I must attend the bride. She is bound to be apprehensive on her wedding night."

"The princess should not be overly nervous. I warrant she is no untried maiden."

Jory's lashes flew up. Does the entire Court know that Joanna is no longer a virgin?

The newly wed bride had chosen a night rail of pale blue silk and a velvet bed gown of deep Plantagenet blue with a band of golden lions embroidered around its wide sleeves. Jory hung up Joanna's bridal gown, then glanced about her chamber to make sure all was in order and the bridal bed turned down. She jumped as a low knock came upon the door. "He's here," she whispered breathlessly. "Remember, there isn't a man breathing cannot be manipulated."

Joanna faced the door and lifted her chin, refusing to admit even to her friend that she was nervous. "Let him in."

Gilbert's eyes smiled into Jory's and he held the door for her until she departed. Without haste he advanced into the chamber. "It has been an exhausting day for you, Joanna. Are you tired?"

"Nay, my lord, though I am glad 'tis over and done!"

Her honesty brought a smile to his lips. "I am glad we can converse plainly, my dear. Flowery phrases do not come easily to me, though a bride as lovely as you surely warrants them."

Joanna poured herself a goblet of wine. "Would you like some?"

"Nay, I've imbibed enough toasts to make even a bishop stagger. Poor lady, do you need to fortify yourself with strong drink to endure an aging husband?"

She gave him a quizzical glance over the rim of her goblet.

He sat down on a love seat before the fire and patted the cushion. "Come, let us talk, Joanna. You can be at ease with me; I have no delusions about marriage."

"You've been wed before," she said bluntly. "I have not."

Gilbert threw back his head and laughed. "Such irony! Just as you are a wife for the first time, so I am a husband."

"Such a statement intrigues me." She sat down beside him. "Explain yourself."

"Your grandfather, King Henry III, overeager to honor and impress his Continental half brother, proposed a marriage between de Lusignan's sixteen-year-old daughter Alice and myself, because I was the heir to England's wealthiest earldom of Gloucester. I was ten years old. Alice was a fecund bitch in heat who had no intention of waiting years until I was old enough to bed her. Her lover was Prince Edward's best friend and steward, Rodger de Leyburn, or so I thought for a long time. In reality it was the heir to the throne with whom she committed adultery for years."

"My father?" Joanna asked in disbelief.

"I lay no blame at his door. He was a virile, unwed prince of the realm, who took what was blatantly offered. The whore easily seduced him as well as others over the years. I held her in utter contempt. Such seeds of hatred had been planted between us that I never consummated the marriage even when I was old enough."

"You divorced her and sent her back to the Continent."

"Yes, after your father became king."

"Your armies won back the realm from Simon de Montfort, the great baronial warlord, and as a result my father now wears the crown. He owes you a great deal."

"I threw in my lot with Edward Plantagenet, not just because he was the rightful king, but because he was a great warrior who was strong enough to rule justly."

"He thinks to repay you with this marriage."

"Undoubtedly. At the same time he will gather the de Clare castles, landholdings, and wealth into the Plantagenet coffers."

"Only if there is an heir," Joanna said bluntly.

Gilbert took her hand and pressed it between his own. "You are eighteen, Joanna. You will outlive me by decades. If you will be my wife in more than just name for the years I have left, and you are generous enough to give me a child, I will leave you the wealthiest widow in the realm. Then the choice of husband will be entirely yours and you will rule your own destiny."

I thought my life was over, but mayhap it is just beginning.

"Joanna de Clare, if you deal honestly with me and show me respect, from this day forward you may make your own decisions regarding anything and everything that affects your life."

Joanna's eyes widened. "I have not married a lapdog after all, but a real man. I will be your wife in more than name, Gilbert."

He smiled into her eyes and squeezed her hand. "You won't regret it, my love." The bridegroom blew out the candles and led his wife to the bed. In the darkness he removed his bed robe and the first thing he did when they lay naked together was to gently roll her to a prone position so he could massage her back.

It didn't take long for Joanna to relax and become used to the feel of her husband's hands upon her body. Languidness swept over her, which was soon replaced by a feeling of sensuality. When she reached out to touch him, she was not repelled by an aging body. Gilbert was well muscled and hard in all the right places.

The earl's hands were well versed in how to arouse a female, and when he rose above her in the dominant position and thrust into her young body, desire for fulfillment rose up in her. He had great staying power and slowly and steadily brought her to orgasm twice before he allowed himself to spill his seed.

Joanna lay in wonder at the unexpected passion Gilbert had aroused in her. She cupped her own breasts and moaned with pleasure. That was the best sexual encounter I have ever experienced. My husband is a far superior lover than young de Bohun. The constable's son no sooner began than he was finished! The newly wed Countess of Gloucester curled onto her side and smiled into the darkness.

Jory was most reluctant to knock on Joanna's bedchamber door, but when the new Countess of Gloucester had not emerged by nine o'clock, she summoned her courage and rapped lightly.

Much to her relief, she found Joanna abed alone when she entered. "Blanche has your breakfast tray, Lady de Clare."

"Well, I declare!" Joanna punned.

"If I'd known you were alone, I would have knocked earlier."

"Gloucester is a soldier. He arose hours ago."

Jory, her head on one side, glanced at her friend and the tumbled bed. "Your mood seems light and gay this morning."

Joanna smiled slyly. "I came to the marriage prepared to do battle. To my utter amazement, I have no complaints about my new husband. Give me a few days; I'm sure I'll think of something."

"I'm happy you have declared a truce."

"Nay, I surrendered unconditionally the moment he unsheathed his formidable weapon." Joanna laughed delightedly when she saw Jory blush. "His swordplay was masterful."

"Here's Blanche. I'll return when you've eaten."

Joanna swept her hand over the clothes Jory had laid out for her to wear on the journey to Clerkenwell. "Take those away. I've changed my mind. I don't wish to wear Plantagenet blue and gold today. I shall wear the colors of Gloucester and ride proudly beside my husband."

Jory rolled her eyes. May God give me patience. Gloucester's colors are red and blue, but I have no idea which trunk holds Joanna's red surcoat. "You wore your crimson riding outfit only two days past at the hunt. Why don't you wear the blue today and I'll remove the gold braid decoration. Your red boots and ruby caul will look striking against your blue surcoat, and the earl will recognize immediately that you are wearing the colors of Gloucester."

Joanna actually smiled. "What would I do without you?"

Jory heaved a sigh of relief. It wouldn't take her long to rip off the ornate gold braid, and the ruby caul was safe in the princess's jewel casket, which hadn't yet been taken to the stables.

It was two more hours before the cavalcade of the Earl and Countess of Gloucester was ready to depart Windsor. Gilbert de Clare was not the sort of man to exercise patience, especially when women caused the delay, but he spent the morning hours with the king and his fellow earls discussing the Parliament, which he had agreed to attend two days hence. When Joanna and her ladies finally arrived in the courtyard shortly before noon, de Clare held his tongue and helped his bride into her be-jeweled saddle.

Jory accepted the assistance of a groom, then took her place with Maud Clifford, Blanche Bedford, and Eleanor de Leyburn behind the Earl and Countess of Gloucester. She held her breath as suddenly she caught sight of Guy de Beauchamp. He's back! Jory's first impulse was to dismount and run into his arms, but there were too many eyes to witness such an affectionate display. Instead, she watched him approach his friend de Clare. They exchanged a few words, laughed, and then nodded in agreement. As the cavalcade began to move through the throng of well-wishers, Jory's eyes were riveted on Warwick. Rather than wave, he touched his fingers to his lips and then to his heart. Two gestures he knows I will understand. Overflowing with joy, her own heart almost turned over in her breast. I will think of you every moment we are apart, Guy, my love!

The de Clare mansion at Clerkenwell was in the countryside. Its closest neighbor was the ancient Tower of London. From the moment Jory rode through the iron gates that were ornamented with the boar device of Gloucester until she fell exhausted into her bed in a chamber she shared with Eleanor de Leyburn, she was busy sorting out Joanna's belongings. It took the entire afternoon and evening to hang the royal gowns and place the shoes that matched them in the wardrobes of the dressing room, which was adjacent to the de Clares' master bedchamber. Then she filled the drawers with Joanna's petticoats, nightgowns, corsets, stockings, garters, gloves, scarves, veils, and handkerchiefs. Last, but not least, Jory took inventory of the princess's vast collection of jewels, to make sure nothing had been pilfered on the trek from Windsor.

She bade Eleanor good night and wondered how she would ever get used to the manor house after living at spacious Windsor Castle. Then she smiled into the darkness. I shan't be living here long! A full-blown vision of dark, compelling Warwick filled her head, and her heart yearned for him. Surely she was the luckiest female alive to have captured Guy de Beauchamp's interest. He was a prize beyond her wildest dreams.

The next morning Joanna summoned her four ladies. It was obvious to each of them that she was in an expansive and generous mood. "I truly appreciate your friendship, loyalty, and hard work on my behalf. I have suddenly come to realize my own good fortune that you are in my service. You are all at an age when marriage will take you from me, so before that happens I would like to reward each of you with a token of my affection."

The countess gave a signal, and Gloucester foot-men wearing livery carried in the bolts of vivid silk woven with silver thread that she had received as a wedding gift. "The choice is yours."

As the other three ladies pondered indecisively, Jory unerringly chose the bolt of silk that would be most flattering to her delicate coloring. The pale jade green was the exact color of her eyes. "It's the loveliest cloth I've ever seen. I thank you with all my heart!"

The Earl of Gloucester came into the chamber. "Good morning, ladies." When each curtsied to him, he quickly shook his head. "Be at ease—such formality makes a soldier uncomfortable." His friendly eyes brimmed with secret amusement as they sought out Jory. "Lady Marjory, you have a visitor."

She hurried downstairs to the reception hall, thinking perhaps someone had brought a message from her brother. She almost missed a step as she saw Warwick pacing the room, slapping his riding gloves against his thigh. "Guy…I didn't expect…Guy!"

He held out his hand to her. "I wanted it to be a surprise. Come, see what I've brought you."

She slipped her hand into his, trying not to feel self-conscious that the servants might see, and matched her steps to his as he swept her from the hall into the courtyard. There stood a beautiful white palfrey with a long silken mane and tail.

"I rode all the way to Flamstead for a mount that is worthy of you, chéri. That's why you didn't see me yesterday."

"Such a costly gift…Are you sure it is permissible to come and visit me like this, my lord?" she asked breathlessly.

"Certes! Gloucester invited me. He cannot stop laughing that such a jaded swine as myself has finally lost his heart."

"Oh, Guy, I love you so much!" She raised her mouth to his.