LITMIR.BIZ

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the Prince kissed, Anne looked on them with blatant envy. It was not Edward of Woodstock she coveted. For all his glory, he was not a man who appealed to her. She merely wished that a man might smile, his face aglow, just to see her.

      As it was, she was clever and unobtrusive and had a face most men did not care to dwell on, so if her expression ever slipped, which it often did, no one would be watching.

      They did not watch now, the Prince and her lady, as they turned toward the King’s chambers.

      ‘Milady, shall I...?’

      Without bothering to turn, Lady Joan shook her head and waved a hand in dismissal. And as the two walked off together to learn their fate, Anne stood in the hall, alone.

      Later, then. Later she would discover whether the Pope had been convinced and all was as it must be.

      There was a great deal to be made right. And the man who brought the news had not been smiling.

      Nicholas, they had called him.

      * * *

      Sir Nicholas Lovayne had rehearsed his speech during the whole of the ride from the port to the New Forest astride a borrowed horse. Time enough and more to get the words right.

      He was grateful he had, for the minute he arrived, they ushered him into the King’s private chambers and he faced the King, the Queen, Prince Edward and Joan, Countess of Kent.

      There was no more time to rearrange words.

      ‘Well?’ King Edward himself spoke, eyes as piercing as a falcon’s. Beside him, the Queen gripped his hand.

      Nicholas looked at Prince Edward and Lady Joan, for their lives were the ones at stake. ‘They will not be excommunicated for violating the Church’s marriage laws.’

      The Pope had had every right to do so, but Nicholas and some well-placed gold florins had saved their immortal souls. No small feat and more than they deserved.

      Thus was the privilege of royalty. To be rewarded for behaviour that would damn any other mortal.

      But that was only the first of the miracles Nicholas had accomplished in Avignon. And not even the one the Prince cared most to hear.

      ‘But we will be allowed to marry?’ The Prince, as eager as a boy waiting for his first bedding, though he and his ‘bride’ had been sharing the sheets for months.

      ‘Yes.’ In the best of circumstances, the couple would have needed the Pope’s permission to wed, since they were closely related. But they had made the situation much, much worse, by marrying in secret. Then they had dumped their sins in Nicholas’s lap, expecting him to untangle the mess to their satisfaction. ‘His Holiness will overlook your consanguinity and also set aside your clandestine marriage. You will be allowed to wed in a church-sanctioned union.’

      Allowed to marry and share their lives. And the throne.

      Relief. The hard, silent expressions melted. Eyes, lips, shoulders, tongues let loose. How quickly? How soon?

      He raised his voice to answer with a tone of caution. ‘Also,’ he added, ‘His Holiness requires that each of you build and endow a chapel.’

      Neither the Prince nor the Lady Joan bothered to respond to what would be a minor inconvenience. Instead, Prince Edward held out his hand. ‘The document.’ A demand. ‘Give it to me.’

      ‘It will be sent directly to the Archbishop of Canterbury. I expect he will receive it near Michaelmas. Until then, you must live separately.’

      The Prince and his lady turned their eyes on him, as if he, instead of the Pope, had forbidden them their bed. As if two months apart were a lifetime.

      Well, that was not the worst of it. ‘And there is one more thing,’ he said.

      Hard silence fell again. They quieted, knowing he had more news to deliver and that it would not be as pleasant as the last.

      ‘What?’ The King, of course. He would ever be allowed to speak first. ‘What more?’

      ‘A private message will accompany the document. His Holiness asked that I tell you what it will contain.’

      It took only a glance from the King. The few attendants with them withdrew, leaving him alone with the royal family.

      ‘Go on,’ the King said.

      ‘Before they marry,’ Nicholas began, ‘His Holiness requires...’ Now for the words he had rehearsed. ‘The Lady Joan’s marriage to Salisbury was annulled.’

      The Prince frowned. ‘Years ago. That is ancient history.’

      Nicholas glanced at Joan, amazed to see her half smile unshaken. ‘But it was annulled,’ he continued, ‘when a previous, secret marriage was upheld.’

      ‘All here are aware of my past,’ the lady said.

      The King and Queen exchanged glances. Everyone in England was aware of Joan’s past. It had not made the Prince’s case for marriage any easier.

      Nicholas gritted his teeth. There was no easy way to say what he must. ‘Lady Joan, you were once married to two men, one of whom still lives.’ He saw a flush on her cheek. ‘His Holiness asks that before your marriage to the Prince proceeds, an investigation be conducted in the matter of your previous marriage.’

      ‘Why?’ It was the Prince who asked, blinded by love to the obvious.

      ‘To be sure,’ Nicholas said, unable to keep the irritation from his voice, ‘that all was in order.’

      The Prince stepped toward him, fists raised, and for a moment Nicholas thought the man would, indeed, punish him for the news he brought. ‘You dare imply—’

      The King stayed his hand. ‘Sir Nicholas is not the one who asks for the enquiry.’

      Spared, Nicholas waited until the Prince folded his fists into his elbows, then continued. ‘I am bringing this news to you ahead of the Pope’s official notice so that you may have time to prepare.’

      The Lady Joan’s smile never wavered. Her face was so lovely you did not bother to wonder what lay behind it. ‘So that when the Pope’s official decree arrives, we can wed immediately.’ She turned to the Prince. ‘He does us a kindness. The matter is easily resolved.’

      So the Pope expected, Nicholas was certain. His dispensation would arrive in little more than two months, scarcely time to conduct a thorough investigation.

      Lady Joan turned her smile on Nicholas. ‘All was done correctly in the nullification of my marriage to Salisbury.’

      Most women would never have risked a clandestine marriage. This woman had dared two. Her first, to Thomas Holland, twenty-one years ago, was ultimately validated. As a result, she was allowed to put aside her subsequent union with Salisbury and return to Holland instead.

      All enough to confuse even the most learned of church scholars.

      ‘His Holiness is not only interested in that one,’ Nicholas said, dreading what would come next.

      They stared at him as if he had spoken Greek.

      ‘What do you mean?’ Lady Joan’s voice had an edge he had not heard before.

      Obviously, they had not grasped the full meaning of the message. ‘He wants more than the nullification investigated. He wants confirmation of the legitimacy of your secret union with Holland.’

      Her eyes widened and narrowed. A woman unaccustomed to being questioned, even to prove something as simple as what had already been blessed by a previous pope. ‘I don’t understand. The Pope, all his people...it took years, but they were satisfied. Surely there could be no question now.’

      ‘A formality, no doubt.’ The King, near as adept at government as he was at war. ‘The Archbishop will assemble a panel of bishops. They will review the documents. It will be done.’

      ‘The

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