‘But you have only just come.’

‘I know, my child, but there is a kingdom at stake. I must go back without delay.’

Joanna was appalled. The fact that it was Lent did not seem an adequate excuse for postponing the wedding in such circumstances. She was saddened by the thought that her mother was leaving them so soon but at the same time happy to think that she could be of use to her brother and a friend to his affianced bride for whom she was already beginning to feel affection.

In some apprehension Eleanor took leave of her family and set out for England. She had been only three days in Sicily.

As she stood on the deck watching the land fade from sight she wondered how long it would be before the wedding did take place and if at the end of Lent Richard would find some other reason for postponing it. He must marry Berengaria. There would be war with Navarre if he did not. He could not afford to lose friends. None could understand the call of adventure more than she did but it was adventure enough for a king that he had a kingdom to govern. It was also a duty to marry and get sons.

All would be well, she assured herself. It was merely a postponement. The marriage would take place; the children would come.

She deplored the fact that she was growing old. True, she retained her energy. Most people of her years would have retired to a nunnery. Perhaps she should think of expiating her sins but it seemed to her that a better way to do this might be to devote herself to her family rather than piously to prepare a way to Heaven for herself. There were not many who would agree with her and perhaps when Richard was safely back in England, the Holy City captured for Christianity, Berengaria the mother of several lusty sons . . . perhaps that would be the time. And when would that be? She laughed knowing that the time if it ever came was years ahead.

When she reached Rome it was to find that Henry of Germany was about to be crowned Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. It seemed to her politic that she should be present at that ceremony.

She quickly became aware that her reception by the Emperor elect was a cold one. And no wonder since his wife was Constancia, sister of the late King of Sicily, who considered herself the heiress of that island on the death of her brother. Joanna had suffered imprisonment for supporting Constancia’s claim but Richard had since made a pact with Tancred and had tactically accepted him as the new King of Sicily when he had offered his nephew Arthur as the husband of Tancred’s daughter.

Richard had congratulated himself that he had come out of that affair well. He had forgotten that while he made his truce in Sicily he was making an enemy of the powerful Emperor.

Eleanor believed that Henry would have been a more useful ally.

She attended the ceremony at St Peter’s Church and saw Henry and Constancia anointed and proclaimed Emperor and Empress. There was one moment during the ceremony when she was filled with secret mirth. The Pope, who was officiating, sat on the Papal chair, the imperial crown placed incongruously on the floor between his feet. The new Emperor, his head bowed in reverence towards this awesome figure, received the crown when the Pope sent it towards him with a movement of his foot and placed it on his head. To show that he could without preamble dispossess him if he wished the Pope then lifted his foot and kicked the crown off Henry’s head.

Poor Henry looked extremely discomfited in spite of the fact that this undignified gesture was an accepted part of the procedure.

One of the Cardinals then picked up the crown and replaced it on the Emperor’s head and the ceremony continued.

It was a thoughtful Eleanor who continued her journey back to England.

Berengaria was a little bewildered. She could not understand why her marriage should not take place. She knew that Eleanor had been anxious about leaving her although she had impressed on her the fact that Joanna would be a substitute for herself. The Queen of Sicily would be Berengaria’s companion and her chaperon, for although they were almost of an age – both being in their twenty-sixth year – Joanna because she had been a wife and was now a widow was more experienced of the world.

Berengaria could not help but be happy in the change, for although she had had the utmost respect for Eleanor she had been greatly in awe of her. It was comforting therefore to have as her constant companion a girl who was not in the least formidable.

The greatest similarity between Eleanor and Joanna was that they both admired Richard almost to idolatry and this was very comforting to the girl who was to be his bride.

Joanna now had excuses to offer for the delay. Richard was devout, she said, and he would feel it was wrong to indulge in all the celebrations which his marriage would entail. It was for this reason that he was postponing the wedding.

‘It is only a delay of a few weeks,’ soothed Joanna. ‘You see, he has to be so careful for he must not offend Heaven by any act which could bring disaster to the crusade.’

Berengaria was only too ready to accept this explanation.

Joanna went on: ‘I doubt not the wedding will take place on Easter Day. What a lovely day for a wedding! It is almost certain that this is what Richard has in mind. Then we shall be sisters in very truth. I was so happy when I heard that I am to accompany you. Do you feel perhaps a little alarmed at the prospect of travelling with Richard to the Holy Land?’

‘It is not quite what my father thought would happen when he told me I was affianced. I think he thought that Queen Eleanor would take me back to England.’

‘Without Richard! That is no way for a bride to live . . . apart from her husband! You would hate that. Do you not think he is the most handsome man you ever set eyes on?’

‘I do indeed, Joanna.’

Joanna extolled his virtues, told of his brilliant feats in battle, his sense of poetry; she sang the songs he had written and made Berengaria sing them with her; they talked of him continually and each day they expected to be told that the wedding was to take place. But time was passing and Richard was occupied with preparing for the next lap of his journey. He saw little of Berengaria and only when others were present; then he was always gracious to her although a little aloof, Joanna thought.

It was Joanna who decided to ask Richard what his plans were and she chose a moment when she could be alone with him which was not easy to do.

But Joanna was determined.

‘Richard,’ she said, ‘what of your marriage?’

He frowned slightly and looked her straight in the eyes.

‘What mean you, sister?’ he said. ‘My marriage . . . it will take place at the right time.’

‘When will the right time be?’

‘It cannot be here at Messina.’

‘But Richard, it is what we are expecting.’

‘Who is expecting this?’

‘Berengaria . . . Everyone.’

‘My dear sister, I am engaged on a holy crusade.’

‘But your marriage is important too, Richard. Berengaria has travelled far and has at last reached you.’

‘I know. We shall be married, but I could not allow the ceremonies to take place in holy week. You see that.’

‘I do, brother. I see that clearly but it will soon be Easter. We thought perhaps you had decided on Easter Day. We should like to know, for there are certain preparations we must make.’

‘Easter Day would be good indeed, but alas I must depart before that.’

‘Before Easter Day! But that is but a week away!’

‘I know it well. I must be sailing for Acre before that. The King of France is already on his way there and I have given my word that I will not delay longer. I waited here only for Berengaria’s arrival. I cannot remain until Easter Day.’