The Shadow Queen: The Sunday Times bestselling book – a must read for Summer 2018

‘I have always suspected you of a strong streak of frivolity.’

‘I have never been frivolous in my life! And you know full well I do not share Will’s bed.’

A heated argument that we abandoned when, the drums and pipes falling silent, heads were turned in our direction.

Did we kiss? We did not.

Was I dragged into a fervent embrace? Never.

Where was the passion, the emotion that had driven me into Thomas’s arms?

In winter hibernation.

Until I had had enough. And so had Thomas.

***

‘If we don’t abscond,’ he said, as we waited on a cold December morn for the hunt to assemble, ‘then we must do it legally.’

I thought about this as one of my women tucked my skirts securely between leg and saddle. And when she had completed the task and moved aside: ‘A court case. Is that what you think?’

‘Why not?’

I knew why not. ‘There’s no point in appealing to the English courts. They’ll do what Edward tells them. You’ll get no justice there.’

‘True.’ Still standing, fidgeting with his gloves, Thomas signalled for his page to tighten the girth since Edward had arrived, then mounted, pulling his horse level with mine. ‘There is another method of besieging this castle, of course.’

I looked across.

‘You are not allowed to harm Will!’

‘I did not mean a dagger in the heart! God’s Blood, Joan! Would I do that? I’ve nothing against him personally. I’m still thinking legally.’

There was only one route I could think of. ‘And what would that be? Do you foresee yourself kneeling at the feet of His Holiness the Pope in Avignon and appealing for justice?’

‘Exactly that.’

I looked at him aghast. My comment had been born out of pure cynicism. ‘Have you come into a family fortune?’

‘There is no family fortune. I make my own way in the world.’

‘Then who will speak for you? Who will loan you the money? I have none.’

‘Nor would I take it from you.’ His tone softened and almost he reached to touch my wrist, before thinking better of it, shortening his reins instead.

‘It would cost a small fortune.’

‘Which I do not have. Not until I have made a name for myself.’

‘And how will you do that?’

But I knew without asking the question. There was only one way for men like Thomas. To fight overseas. To shine on the battlefield where he might take prisoner men of consequence and ransom them for the desired fortune. My heart plummeted.

‘And how long do you presume that this planning will take? How old will we be before you ransom enough prisoners and your coffers contain enough gold? I would like to see it before my death bed claims me.’ A thought flittered across my mind, and not a pleasant one. ‘I would like to be extricated from this morass of our making before Will is considered of an age to take me in physical matrimony and gives me a handful of Montagu children who will tie me to this marriage for ever.’

It had crossed Thomas’s mind too. ‘A year or two. Three at most.’

‘Is that all?’

‘It all depends on the campaigns. There will be war again between England and France. And if not there will be others where mercenaries are welcomed.’ His expression beneath the white silk was severe as we walked our horses behind that of the King. ‘Have you no confidence in me?’

I would have replied but William was approaching on a spritely roan and I saw the necessity to retreat. Of course there would be war, there would be every opportunity. There would also be opportunity for Thomas to be cut down in battle. I had every confidence in his courage but was not the lack of an eye an impairment, whatever he might say to the contrary? I did not think that he would be the man he had once been in the tournament, despite the blind king who was led into battle, his reins tied to those of his entourage. That was no life for a man who was intent on wealth and reputation.

‘Yes, I have every confidence,’ I said. ‘Just don’t tell me about the King of Bohemia!’

What I kept tight-held within me was the fear, the dread that the whole complex situation, the whole knotty problem, could be immediately resolved by Thomas’s death by a lance through his chest or an arrow through his throat. It was not unknown. It could happen before I tasted married bliss.

And here was Will, drawing rein beside me, his thoughts not on wedded bliss.

‘What were you talking about?’

Suspicion was not entirely dead then.

‘About Sir Thomas’s need to make a living from fighting.’

‘So he will be leaving soon.’

‘I expect so. When he can find a war to suit his purposes.’

‘Good.’

‘Why? Do you not like him?’

I regarded him beneath lowered lashes, interested to hear what he would say.

‘I do,’ Will admitted as if it surprised him. ‘My father says he is a good man to have at your side.’

‘So you would happily send him off to his death.’

‘It would solve my problems!’

I was afraid that it would.

His brows snapping together as he continued the line of thought, Will added: ‘And I would no longer feel that I had to consider your loyalty to me, every minute of the day when I was not at your side.’

‘You dishonour me, my lord,’ I replied with a false smile of great sweetness. ‘I know exactly where my loyalty is due.’

‘And what does that mean?’