Eleanor thought this was probably true but she would never have run up bills as Joanna was doing, for her sister would be deeply in debt by the time their father returned.
That December the three princesses set out for Glastonbury. The King and Queen had arranged this journey for them before they had left for the Continent. It was well, said the King, for the people to realise the piety of the royal family and the three girls were of an age now to show the country that they were devout. Money would have to be raised for their marriages when the King returned to England, for he could not keep all his daughters in the single state for ever. So let the people see what good pious girls they were.
Glastonbury was the most important of the abbeys because it held the bones reputed to be those of King Arthur; and since that monarch had been much discussed at the time of Llewellyn’s uprising he was anxious to remind the people that Arthur did not belong to the Welsh any more than the English.
The fact that the princesses travelled in winter made their pilgrimage more commendable for it was no luxury to make their way through the countryside during the season of snow and frost, and even if it was not cold enough for that there were rain and muddy roads to contend with.
So they set out and they did not ride on horseback but in chariots and in the midst of a large cavalcade of knights, ladies and attendants of all ranks.
Wherever they went the people came out to welcome them. There was no doubt that the reigning King and Queen were more popular than their predecessors had been.
They were warmly greeted in all the abbeys at which they called and with good reason for it was the recognised custom that royal visitors meant royal gifts.
When they had paid their respects to the bones at Glastonbury they started on their homeward journey by calling at the Abbey of Cerne in Dorsetshire that they might pay homage to the shrine of St Ethelwold. They spent Christmas in Exeter where they stayed until mid-January and it was February by the time they were back in Westminster.
It was at this time that there was a violent quarrel between Joanna and Egis de Audenarde when he told her blankly that he could advance her no more money. She had spent so much more than her allowance that he must stop it forthwith until what she had bought was paid for.
This was one of the occasions when Joanna’s temper would not be controlled. That she, a Princess of England, should be dictated to by one of her father’s servants – a clerk, nothing more – was intolerable to her.
‘I will spend as I will, sir,’ she cried.
‘Not of the King’s monies, my lady.’
‘I think you forget to whom you speak,’ she flashed.
‘My lady, you forget that I am in charge of the King’s accounts and it is his orders I must obey.’
‘Get from my sight,’ she shouted. ‘I will have no more of you. From this moment you are no more concerned with my affairs.’
De Audenarde bowed low.
‘My lady,’ he said, ‘I withdraw. You must do as you will and it is for you to answer to the King.’
Still fuming with rage Joanna sought out her sisters and told them what had happened.
‘He was right,’ said Eleanor. ‘He cannot spend our father’s money.’
‘What nonsense. How can we clothe ourselves if we do not spend money?’
‘You know we have plenty of clothes. Perrot can mend them.’
‘I will not be seen in patches. When I want new garments I shall have them.’
Eleanor shrugged her shoulders. ‘Do so, but remember it is you who will have to answer to our father when he returns.’
Joanna said she would do that willingly. And she spent even more recklessly than she intended so that she could show her sisters that she did not care.
The princesses were seated at their embroidery in one of the chambers in Windsor Castle which was light and therefore suitable to work in, and at the same time gave them a view of the forest.
Joanna was in a good mood. Strangely enough for one of her restless nature, she loved to embroider. It had a soothing effect on her temper, she often said, and she rather mischievously chose colours to suit those moods of hers. It was said that if her women saw her embroidering in sombre colours they knew it was the time to keep away from her. She had been taught the art by the Lady Edeline and had started to learn in the days when she was in her Castilian nursery. The Castilians did beautiful work. That was why they liked to see it set up on walls that it might be continuously on view.
She had spent lavishly on her silks and now showed them with delight to Eleanor and Margaret who sat with her.
‘But you had plenty before,’ said Eleanor.
‘I needed more,’ she retorted.
She was working with a beautiful blue silk which meant she was in a benign mood. Eleanor shrugged her shoulders. It was Joanna who would have to ask her father to pay her debts. It was no concern of the Princesses Eleanor and Margaret.
‘Just look at this lady’s dress. Is it not a heavenly colour? I shall run some gold thread through the blue and make it even more grand.’
‘She looks as though she is going to a wedding,’ said Margaret.
‘Ah, weddings. I have been thinking of weddings. When do you think the King and Queen will return, Eleanor?’
‘It cannot be long now. They have been away nearly two years.’
‘Matters on the Continent absorb them, I doubt not,’ said Margaret.
‘I’ll wager we are discussed.’ Joanna was smiling. ‘Weddings. I’ll swear there will be weddings when they come back. A husband for me, a husband for you. Oh, Margaret, sweet sister, we shall soon be leaving you.’
‘Pray do not speak of it.’
‘She would miss us,’ cried Joanna. ‘Would you miss my teasing?’
‘Very much,’ answered Margaret.
‘She loves me in spite of my evil nature,’ said Joanna. ‘Yes, you do. People do not always like the good, do they? It is most unfair. I am determined to have my way and I tell you this, if I do not like the husband who is chosen for me I’ll not take him.’
‘You will have to take whoever is given you,’ said Eleanor.
‘I won’t! I won’t! I will not be governed by …’
‘By the King?’ said Eleanor.
‘Marriage is too important a matter,’ insisted Joanna. ‘Is it not strange that Margaret is the only one who is betrothed? Little Margaret who is not yet fifteen. What think you of your Duke, Margaret?’
‘If our father has chosen him for me then he must be the best husband I can have.’
‘Dutiful daughter! Will she be as dutiful a wife, I wonder? Eleanor, what think you of the Duke of Brabant?’
‘I thought him handsome,’ said Eleanor.
‘I thought he was more interested in his horses and falcons than his wife-to-be.’
‘Margaret was only a child when he came here. How could he be interested in her?’
Margaret felt a little uneasy. She knew that the Duke of Brabant had been chosen for her, but as her sisters’ marriages had come to nothing she had thought hers might also.
She tried to remember what she could of John of Brabant, who had joined their household on one or two occasions and had stayed very briefly. She remembered a high-spirited boy who was always boasting about his horses and had taken as little interest in her as she had in him.
‘It will be a long time before I marry,’ she said.
‘Depend upon it,’ soothed Eleanor, ‘our father will never let you go at your age. He is sure to say you are too young.’