There was another matter which deeply concerned him too. He was worried about his eldest daughter – his dear Eleanor, now Duchess of Bar-le-Duc, who had, some thought, been the one he had loved beyond everyone else before this obsession with Blanche.
Things were going badly at the castle of Le Bar. During Edward’s conflict with the King of France, as was to be expected Eleanor’s husband came out in full support of his father-in-law and, owing to his estates being so close to France, this was extremely useful to Edward. Edward had of course supplied him with arms and money and the Duke had attempted to take Champagne, a project with which Edward was in agreement as its capture would have meant the aggrandisement of his grandson.
Champagne, however, belonged in her own right to the Queen of France who held the title Countess of Champagne. She was furious at what she called the Duke of Bar-le-Duc’s audacity and she mustered all the strength she could, which was considerable, to come against the Duke.
The result had been disastrous … for the Duke.
His army had been defeated and he was taken prisoner. Not content with that the Queen, feeling vindictive against him, had had him fettered and sent to a dungeon in Paris. The King of France, however, had restrained his wife and while he agreed that the Duke should remain a prisoner he thought he should be treated with more dignity, and – perhaps his relationship with the King of England would make this advisable – the Duke was taken to a more comfortable prison at Bourges. But the King of France was determined that the Duke should not be granted his freedom as he would only use it in the service of the King of England against France.
Eleanor was therefore alone in the castle of Le Bar wondering about the fate of the husband whom she loved, protecting little Edward, her son, and Joanna, her daughter, and each day wondering what would become of them.
Edward was frantic with anxiety about her and was planning a meeting. He wanted Eleanor to come to Ghent where he could meet her and they could be together and discuss her future.
Joanna was wondering whether, in view of the King’s preoccupations, it would be a good thing to spring the news of her marriage on him or whether, beset by anxieties, he would be more inclined to fume against her. There was a great deal at stake, she told Ralph. He could confiscate their possessions. He could send Ralph to prison. There was no knowing how he might act. He had been an indulgent father but he did possess the notorious Plantagenet temper, and although he kept it well in check it could be terrifying when aroused.
After a great deal of thought, Joanna decided that it might be a good idea to set into circulation a rumour that she and Ralph were in love and contemplating marriage. They could see what effect this would have on the King and if he took the matter lightly they could come forth and confess. On the other hand if he expressed his fury they could retreat into silence and let him think the affair had come to nothing.
The King was brooding on his own and his eldest daughter’s predicaments when the news of the rumour came to him.
‘It’s a lie!’ he shouted. ‘She would not dare.’ He was horrified. He had been thinking that Joanna was not the sort of woman who should remain unmarried, and he had for some time been considering an offer from the Earl of Savoy who had been putting out feelers suggesting a match between himself and the King’s widowed daughter.
He remembered that she had prevailed on him to bestow a knighthood on Ralph de Monthermer and his fury increased. Of course there was foundation for the rumour. He remembered how she had cajoled him, how she made him forget her late husband’s debts, how she had seemed so happy to be with him and glean such comfort from his presence. When all the time she had been planning to deceive him!
Eleanor would never have done this. Nor would Margaret, Mary nor Elizabeth. Joanna was different. Born in a foreign land, spending the first years of her life with her grandmother, Joanna was different … a deceiver … a siren. But he would teach her a lesson.
He sent for two of his knights and shouted orders to them.
‘Go forward,’ he cried, ‘and confiscate in my name all the lands and possessions of the Countess of Gloucester.’
The very fact that he referred to her as the Countess rather than the Princess Joanna, his beloved daughter, was significant.
They hesitated.
‘Go,’ shouted the King. ‘Did you not hear me?’
So they went.
Joanna was in despair. So this was how he behaved when he heard a rumour that she was contemplating marriage. What would he say when he knew that the deed was already done?
‘We must act with the utmost care,’ she told Ralph. ‘Perhaps we should separate for a while.’
Ralph said he would face anything rather than that, and their danger seemed to intensify their passion. She was exultant. This was the lover she had been waiting for all her life. He was ready to face death for her sake and he might well do so, for the wrath of the King – though rare – could be terrible. But she doubted he would ever in any circumstances harm his daughter, though he might well vent his wrath on those who had shared her sins.
It was fortunate that she had friends, for one of the knights at the King’s Court who had always admired her decided that he would risk the King’s displeasure if he ever found out, in order to prepare her for the disaster to come.
This knight secretly left the Court and rode into Monmouth Castle and asked to be taken to the Countess Joanna without delay.
She received him at once, and before she could tell him how welcome he was he blurted out, ‘The King is sending his confessor Walter de Winterborn to you. He is to find out the true state of affairs between you and Ralph de Monthermer.’
‘I see,’ said Joanna, her mind working quickly.
‘He is to report whether there is any truth in the rumour that you are contemplating marriage. And he is to bring news of a match the King is arranging for you.’
‘Arranging a match for me!’
‘Yes, an agreement is being made with Amadeus, Earl of Savoy, and the King declares he is eager for you to be married without delay. It will put a stop to rumour.’
There was no way out. She saw that she could not keep her marriage secret much longer, but she could not face Walter de Winterborn now. She could imagine what his probing questions would be like.
She thanked the knight for warning her and went to find Ralph.
‘This is disaster,’ she said. ‘The King has a husband for me.’
‘He cannot have you,’ cried Ralph.
‘Of a certainty he will not. But you see how my father can be when his wrath is roused. Already he has left me nothing, taken everything I possess. Never mind, I’ll get it back. But I must have time. If Winterborn comes here he will discover at once. He will question the servants in his confessional manner, and they won’t be able to stand out against him however loyal they are.’
‘Then what do you propose, my love?’
‘We are going to leave here at once. I must have time. My father will have to know we are married, but I want to tell him myself … and in my own time. Be ready. We are leaving immediately for the Countess of Pembroke’s castle in Herefordshire. She will help me. She has always been my friend. I want to talk to her of all this. I must be able to think in peace.’