‘I suggest, my lady Princess,’ he said, ‘that you write to your mother.’
Joanna’s eyes were round with terror. ‘What if the letters fell into their hands ?’
She imagined terrible things happening to her, things of which she heard whispers in corners. How traitors were cast into dungeons to live with the rats, how they died ...
Lord John realized then how deeply the child had suffered and a great anger arose in him against the selfish Empress and he thought how different she was from her sister.
He said: ‘Never fear, they shall not fall into their hands, and if they did, no harm could befall the daughter of King Edward of England.’
‘They can give her very little to eat and be unkind to her,’ retorted Joanna with logic.
That was true. Lord John agreed, but if she would write of what had happened to her he would see that the letters fell into no other hands but those of her mother.
To write letters in secret gave a new excitement to life_ and hope too. If her mother knew she would never let her stay in this horrible place.
In due course the letters had the desired effect.
The King of England now wished his daughter to be put into the care of her future father-in-law, Duke Otho of Austria.
The Empress shrugged her shoulders. She had forgotten about the child in any case. The costly gifts which the King had bestowed on her were also forgotten.
‘Let the child go,’ she said.
Life was a little more comfortable for Joanna after that although she was very homesick and longed to be with her mother. Bickering with Isabella now seemed like perfect bliss and she did long to see her brother Edward. She wanted to be lifted up in her father’s arms and put her cheek against his; she wanted to run into her mother’s arms and be held tightly.
Would she never see them again? Lucky Isabella, who although older was still at home!
Duke Otho was a kindly man. He thought his new little daughter charming. He seemed very old to Joanna but perhaps that was because he was ill.
Here of course she saw Frederic almost every day. He was not nearly as handsome as her brother Edward but that would be asking too much. He was an arrogant little boy and he told her that husbands were always the masters and their wives had to obey them.
‘Nobody obeys such little boys,’ replied Joanna, which made Frederic angry.
He was growing up fast. His servants said so. He was going to be seven foot tall and then he would show her.
Joanna’s consolation was that it would be a long time before he was old enough to marry. In the meantime she had to share lessons with him and speak all the time in their hateful tongue.
Frederic’s Uncle Albrecht was frequently at the ducal court. Joanna did not like him at all. He lacked Duke Otho’s kindliness and she fancied he looked at her with a certain amused dislike which was very unpleasant. Everyone was very deferential to him, and he used to come to the schoolroom and sit there listening with that supercilious smile on his lips whenever Joanna spoke.
At first she had been relieved to be rid of her Aunt Margaret, now Uncle Albrecht and Frederic made her wonder whether the change had been such a great improvement.
Albrecht had a loud booming voice and an air of being always right. Once Joanna heard him say to his brother: ‘This could be a mistake.’ And she instinctively knew that he was referring to her betrothal to Frederic. ‘The English won’t have a chance against the French,’ he went on.
Duke Otho murmured something inaudibly but Joanna guessed that he was defending the proposed marriage and his alliance with her father.
A few days later Duke Otho was very ill. There was a hushed atmosphere throughout the palace.
‘They say the Duke is dying,’ said one of her attendants. ‘Then,’ said another, ‘Frederic will be the Duke.’
‘Yes, but we know who will be the real ruler. Duke Albrecht.’
‘There will be some changes.’
‘I have heard it said that he is hand in glove with the King of France.’
The King of France! thought Joanna. Her father’s enemy! But it was because her father wanted Austria to be his friend that she was to marry Frederic.
It was a sad day when Duke Otho died. Joanna had been fond of him and it was yet another tragedy to lose him; and as the days passed she realized that more and more the attitude towards her was changing.
Frederic told her that her father had no right to the throne of France. He must have heard that somewhere for he would never have thought of it himself.
‘It is my father’s,’ cried Joanna, equally ignorant of the facts, but sure that her father was right. She would defend him even if it were dangerous to do so.
‘Your father will be driven out of France,’ cried Frederic. ‘Who says so?’
‘My Uncle Albrecht.’
She knew it of course. Duke Albrecht had always disliked her. Now his dislike was more than ever apparent.
Lord John came to her and when she heard what he had to tell her she was almost delirious with joy.
‘I have written to your father,’ he said, ‘to tell him of the death of Duke Otho and that the sympathies of Duke Albrecht, the Regent, are with the French. I have now heard from him that we are to leave at once and join the Queen in Flanders.’
Joanna was speechless with joy.
It was over then, this nightmare. She was going home. She wanted to run through the palace telling everyone.
She would start preparations immediately but Lord John warned that she must wait a little until Duke Albrecht himself spoke to her of her departure.
She saw him that very day. He was with Frederic as he often was. It was said he was teaching Frederic how to govern.
‘Why, here is our little bride,’ he said. ‘She looks radiant today, does she not, Frederic?’
Frederic said nothing. Oaf, thought Joanna. How happy I shall be when I do not have to see him again.
‘Tell us why you are so happy, little lady.’
‘You will know that my father has sent for me,’ she replied.
‘And the prospect of leaving us makes you happy?’
No need to placate them now. No need for anything but the truth. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It does.’
‘Is that not a little ungracious?’
‘It is the truth,’ she answered.
‘Shall I tell you another truth, my Princess? You are here with us and here you will stay until we say you may go. Let us appeal to the Duke. Is that not so, Frederic?’
Frederic smiled his silly smile.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She cannot go until we say so.’
Cold terror seized Joanna. All the brightness had drained from her face. She turned and ran from the room.
‘Duke Albrecht will never dare to flout your father,’ said her attendants, but she could see that Lord John was not so sure.
There was no attempt now to hide the fact that Austria was going to be on the side of the French in the coming struggle and all the rich gifts and the proposed marriage might never have been given and arranged.
Frederic, who was very much under the influence of his uncle, told her that the French King was the greatest in the world and he would soon make the English King wish he had never thought of trying to take what did not belong to him.
Joanna refused to argue with him. She was sick at heart wondering what would happen to her now.
Looking into her sad little face Lord John tried to comfort her.
‘You know your father is a man who always gets what he wants.’
She did know that.
‘Well now he wants you to leave Austria and go to your mother. He has asked for your return and since you have not left he has sent another letter which I have taken to the Duke. In this he demands your return.’