How graciously he received them; he took Berengaria’s hands in his and gravely kissed her. Then he embraced his mother.

As they rode together to the lodging which he had prepared for them. Richard’s spirits were lifted a little. Berengaria was indeed elegant. She was exquisitely gowned, her hair was hanging loose and was covered by a mantilla-like veil; her long gown flowed about her slender figure and those who had come to watch her were enchanted by her grace.

At the house Joanna was waiting for them. When she saw her mother she forgot all ceremony. They ran to each other and Joanna was clasped in a loving embrace.

‘My dear dear child,’ cried Eleanor with emotion.

‘It has been so long since I saw you,’ replied Joanna. ‘Oh, Mother, you are still beautiful . . . in spite of everything. You always will be.’

‘And you too, my dear. Oh, it has been such a time and what events have plagued us both and now we are together for but a short time.’

‘Need it be so?’

‘I fear it. There is much I have to say to your brother and I want you here, daughter, for I think we shall need you.’

‘Everything I have is at your service and that of Richard.’

‘He has been a good brother to you.’

‘None could have been better,’ said Joanna fervently.

Berengaria and Joanna appeared to have taken to each other. Berengaria was ready to be delighted by any member of her new family and Joanna wanted to show her gratitude to Richard by being charming to his bride.

Eleanor, watching them together, was delighted. That they should be good friends was part of her plan.

She was very eager to talk to Richard and she wished to do so out of earshot of the two young women. She suggested that Joanna conduct Berengaria to her apartment and leave her a while with her son.

When she and Richard were alone she said: ‘Well, events are moving at last. It is time. I am deeply concerned about affairs in England.’

Richard looked a little weary. A fact which disturbed her.

She spoke to him somewhat sharply. ‘Never forget, Richard, that you are King of England.’

‘Indeed I do not.’

‘You have responsibilities there.’

‘I have one great responsibility at this time, Mother. I have sworn on my solemn oath to free Jerusalem from the Infidel.’

‘I know this well, but you have also been crowned in Westminster and sworn another oath. The English grow restive under Longchamp. Sometimes I think it was unwise to raise that man so high.’

‘He is clever and Hugh Pusey of Durham is his co-justiciar.’

‘They are quarrelling. Your father always said that Long-champ was a man to be wary of.’

‘I found him hard-working and devoted.’

‘He is unpopular. Appearances are important and he is far from prepossessing. Being deformed and lame is bad enough, but as his manners match his looks the people are against him. There is going to be trouble in England, Richard. Either you or I must be there without delay and if you will not go, then I must.’

‘Will you do that?’ asked Richard eagerly. ‘Only you can.’

‘I will, Richard, but you must know that each day could be important.’

‘Do you wish to leave us as soon as you have come?’

‘I must. As soon as the wedding is over I must go back to England.’

‘The wedding . . .’ murmured Richard. ‘It cannot be hurried.’

‘Hurried!’ cried Eleanor. ‘My dear son, we have been waiting weeks to get here.’

‘We are in Lent.’

‘Well?’

‘You cannot suggest we should marry at such a time. It would be a bad augury. It might affect the outcome of the crusade.’

She looked at him in dismay. Oh, God, she thought, he is reluctant for this marriage. Why so? Where could he find a more attractive and docile princess?

But he had never complained about the delay in his marriage to Princess Alice. The answer was, of course, that Richard was not eager for any marriage. The controversy over Alice had not disturbed him in the least. In fact he had been glad of it.

She could see at once that it would be unwise to press for an early marriage.

She did say: ‘The King of Navarre will expect his daughter to be married soon.’

‘So shall she be when the time is ripe.’

‘And I dare not tarry here, Richard. If you would hold England I must be there to see none try to snatch it from you.’

‘You are surely not thinking of John?’

‘I am thinking of any who might try to cheat you of your inheritance. I must be there, Richard. You know I am the only one you can be absolutely sure of.’

‘I know it well.’

‘Then I will leave for England.’

‘When?’

‘Within a day or so.’

‘Oh surely not so soon, Mother!’

‘It must be so. Berengaria needs a chaperon . . . until you marry her. Of course if the ceremony took place now while I was here . . .’

‘It is quite impossible. I have to think of the consequences of a Lenten wedding.’

She was silent. Then she said: ‘You must marry her, Richard, as soon as Lent is over.’

‘Indeed it is my wish to do so.’

‘But I cannot stay for the end of that season. By good fortune Joanna is here.’

‘Joanna yes. She shall be Berengaria’s duenna.’

Eleanor sighed. There were deep misgivings in her heart. Possible trouble in England, and Richard, after all the anxieties and difficulties of extricating himself from marriage with Alice showing no great desire for marriage with Berengaria.

She would speak to Joanna. Her daughter was wise. Then she must make her preparations to depart. It was imperative that Richard should not lose the crown of England.

Eleanor was desolate, she told Joanna. She had so recently joined her family and now she must tear herself away from it. Alas, this was a common enough turn of events in royal families.

‘My dearest daughter,’ she said, ‘how wonderful it is for us to be together and how sad that we soon must part. You have been more fortunate than most for, although you are a widow now, your husband was a good man.’

‘He was very good to me, Mother.’

‘Fortunate Joanna! How many of us can say that? Torn from our families as we are and given to men because they have a crown or some title, ours is a hard lot and when it turns out happily that means God and all his angels are with us. I am concerned for our young Berengaria.’

‘She will be happy, Mother. Richard will be good to her.’

‘He might be a little neglectful.’

Joanna looked startled, and Eleanor went on quickly: ‘Richard is a warrior. His great obsession now is with this crusade. He would not want it jeopardised in any way even by marriage.’

‘I have just met Berengaria but I am sure that she is gentle and kind and will be a good wife and that only Richard’s well-being will matter to her.’

‘I think this, too, but it is not of Berengaria that we speak, daughter. It is of Richard. I want you to stay with Berengaria. Be a good friend to her. I know you will be to your brother. She will have to accompany him to Acre. For some that might be an exciting adventure, but I fancy Berengaria would prefer a less eventful beginning to her married life. Go with Berengaria, Joanna. Be a good friend to her.’

‘It is what I wish with all my heart.’

‘You give me great comfort. Berengaria will help you and you will help her and I can return to England with an easier mind.’

‘You will surely stay to see them married, Mother?’

‘I had believed the wedding would take place immediately.’

‘Why should it not? There is no obstacle now.’

‘Alice is swept out of the way but it seems there is Lent.’

‘It could be a quiet ceremony. We could celebrate afterwards.’

‘Your brother thinks otherwise. He wishes to postpone the wedding until after Lent.’

‘Then stay with us until then.’

‘I cannot, Joanna. I know it would be unwise. I do not wish your brother to lose his kingdom. I must leave immediately.’