The First Princess of Wales by Karen Harper


  “Aye, not a spy, I warrant,” Joan said low so only he could hear, “for the prince and I have decided to make an honest man of this rogue and spy.”

  “My dear duchess, about to be my dear princess,” he returned jauntily, “I do at least thank you and His Grace for saving me from the king’s wrath when he heard I had not gone to sing to sadistic, vile Pedro in Castile as he ordered me.”

  “Saints, my Roger, His Grace, the king, in the joy of the moment has pardoned even the worst offenders like the Princess Isabella—and me,” Joan said and Isabella, too, joined in their laughter. In one fell swoop of benevolent scepter lately, it seemed the king had indeed forgiven one and all for previous rebellious behavior, including even Isabella who had publicly declared her love for the wealthy French hostage, Ingelram de Coucy.

  “I must report that the prince, Duchess, loved your nuptial song and bid me come back to sing it to you before you come downstairs. His exact words, I believe were, ‘Tell my princess it is long overdue time she realized she will not flee’ and something to the effect that at Kennington tonight he will prove the truth of these sweet lyrics, or some such—”

  Isabella gasped and giggled while Joan blushed hot despite the welcome truth of the prince’s brazen reply.

  “Well then, Master Roger, sing me the song once before we go down to face this day with joy and anticipation,” Joan declared. “Sing on, my friend, and next time after you shall sing for the new and very happy Princess of Wales.”

  Isabella fluttered her hands and skirts, nervous to be off, but Joan just closed her eyes and concentrated on the song she had sent by Roger to the prince today, but would no doubt sing for him herself with her own voice and new ivory-inlaid lute over the years to come:

  “That heart my heart has in such grace

  That of two hearts one heart we make;

  That heart has brought my heart in case

  To love that heart that loveth me.

  Which cause gives cause to me and mine

  To serve that heart of sovereignty

  And still to sing this latter line:

  To love that heart that loveth me.

  Whatever I say, whatever I sing,

  Whatever I do, that heart shall see

  That I shall serve with heart-loving

  That loving heart that loveth me.

  This knot thus knit who shall untwine,

  Since we that knit it do agree?

  It shall not slip, but both encline

  To love that heart that loveth me.”

  The sweet melody and lyrics mingled in her mind with the peal of bells in the clear autumn air, as Joan smiled at Roger, embraced Isabella, and floated downstairs. Maids appeared to lift the trains of her kirtle and surcote; trumpets blared as they rounded the sweep of staircase, and she saw her bridegroom below with all the glittering Plantagenets. His lean, tall brothers called out good wishes as Isabella chatted something in her ear all the way down. The prince’s friend Nick Dagworth shouted a comment to her, but it was as if no one stood below waiting but her tall, blond Edward fully arrayed as Prince of Wales as she had never seen him.

  His crystalline blue eyes captured her misty violet gaze as he smiled at her and took her hand. She marveled anew at his towering height and overpowering physical presence as though their love was beginning all new and tender again. Azure and gold silk stretched across his broad shoulders decorated with the royal English leopards and French lilies that would soon be her official coat of arms too; yet had not her Edward promised her that someday their son, the next Prince of Wales, would claim her own chained deer on a bed of ivy for his own royal insignia?

  The prince’s heavy, jewel-encrusted crown was a larger version of her own. His purple velvet and ermine cape split away at his side to reveal his wide gold belt with the big ceremonial sword emblazoned with the proud Garter Knight insignia.

  “My dearest love Edward,” she murmured, suddenly awed at his magnificence.

  He bent close for one moment and his warm, fragrant breath stirred a curling tendril of hair along her temple. “Come with me now forever, my sweetheart. This moment has been awaiting much, much too long.”

  The ceremony began as a beautiful blur of colorful images and sweet sounds: rows of vibrant banners, the boys’ chapel choir’s dulcet tones, the drone of the Latin ceremony, the repeating of their vows in French and Latin. To the side where the royal family sat, Joan’s eye caught that of King Edward; he nodded solemn-faced as if to encourage her as the ceremony went on, and she looked back toward the ornately accoutred altar.

  Her attention wandered only one other time when the prince helped her arise from the silk prie-dieu after prayer and smiled that rakish, almost boyish smile of his under the clipped, tawny mustache. Her heart fluttered, her insides careened and cartwheeled wildly at the stunning impact of her love for this man who had pursued her fiercely through the varied perils and sweet pains of these turbulent years.

  Peals of bells high above in stone-vaulted arches exploded as the old archbishop declared the final pax vobiscum. Courtiers smiled, laughed, but tears of raptured bliss sprang anew to Joan’s eyes when she caught a quick glimpse of her little Bella’s excited face as she and the prince walked out arm in arm into the sunny tang of autumn air.

  The wedding banquet staggered the Great Hall with its opulent and varied fare. A thousand dishes, a thousand chattering, laughing courtiers, Joan thought. The entire crowded hall reverberated, “To the Prince and Princess of Wales!” A whirl of toasts, blessings, and farewells surrounded them as the prince and Joan led their mounted cortège of courtiers and guards slowly out of the gates of Windsor to progress triumphantly toward London.

  All along the way through fields, hamlets, and towns, the people took their new Princess of Wales to their stout English hearts. Countryfolk hung from tree limbs, waving, shouting; little boys ran for miles along the roadways; milkmaids and harvesters on a day of rest threw flowers from roofs and windows.

  By the time they entered London past Westminster and up the Strand, the shouts and clangings of London’s church bells were so deafening, the Princess Joan could no longer hear the gay silver bells which decorated her own silken caparisoned white horse. Like the prince, she waved and smiled and nodded until she thought her arm would lift no more.

  Crowded Fleet Street was awash with ribbons, banners, tapestries, and flowing bolts of cloth draped out windows to make a silken canopy above. Lovely maidens threw rose petals and silken fleur-de-lis until the horses were fetlock deep in them. The city conduits ran with fine French wines which the royal cortège sampled when they were met by the Lord Mayor of London and city aldermen before progressing into the city proper at Temple Bar.

  Now their procession of courtiers and guards was swelled by Londoners in painted wagons decorated with captured French tapestries from the prince’s great victories of Crécy and Poitiers, and, at one spot, the Prince and Princess of Wales gaped as girls in gilded cages suspended over the streets scattered gold and silver leaves to the crowds. Past St. Pauls, over a wildly bedecked London Bridge, their entourage headed down the Southwark Road toward their waiting Kennington Palace.

  The Prince and Princess of Wales paused under the Southwark entry gate newly carved with both their proud family crests as the setting October sun gilded the joyous, frenzied scene. Both blond and fair, so striking, so in love, the newly wedded couple turned and waved at the courtiers and townfolk who had followed them this far today.

  “You got her now, sure ’nough, Yer Grace!” a rough male voice in the raucous, cavorting crowd bellowed, and the prince turned to his princess and took her hand to the cheers and whoops of all.

  “Go on and kiss her, kiss her then!” the chant welled up to drown any solemn thought or memories of other, unhappy days. “Kiss her, kiss her then! Kiss her, kiss her then!”

  As if there were nothing which could delight him more, the prince tipped up his princess’s lovely face with just one big finger and kissed he
r then.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  When this novel was first published in 1984, England had a famous Princess of Wales, the former Lady Diana Spencer. I must admit that the last page of this story was somewhat inspired by Charles and Diana’s famous appearance on the balcony at Buckingham Palace above the cheering crowds on their wedding day.

  However, now as I re-read and revise the novel, it strikes me that this love story of an earlier Prince of Wales more resembles the longtime, sometimes secret love between Prince Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles, now called Duchess of Cornwall, but indeed Princess of Wales. The royal parents of the Plantagenet Prince of Wales and those of the Windsor Prince of Wales share a less than enthusiastic endorsement of these love matches. But then, those of us who love historical novels know that, indeed, in many ways, history does repeat itself.

  Joan and her prince resided both in England and Aquitaine in southern France during the years to come. King Edward III outlived Prince Edward and was eventually succeeded by one of Joan and Edward’s two sons, who was crowned Richard II. As Prince Edward had promised his Jeannette, their son, as king, did adopt her own crest of a deer collared and chained with gold on a bed of Liddell Manor ivy.

  Princess Isabella married her young French suitor Ingelram de Coucy and moved to France with him. Yet, despite a luxurious life there and the birth of two daughters [shades of the current Prince Andrew and his Fergie?], they were separated after twelve years of marriage when Isabella chose to live the rest of her life in England.

  John de Maltravers, whom the Princess of Wales evidently either forgave or forgot, died in his own bed in 1365, perhaps with as much guilt on his conscience for Joan’s father’s sad death as Joan’s royal father-in-law took to his grave.

  But for two lovers whose destinies entwined, a life together was theirs at last.

  Karen Harper

  April 2005

  ABOUT THIS GUIDE

  In Karen Harper’s sweeping novel, the years-long, tempestuous love story of Joan of Kent and Edward, the Prince of Wales, is brought to vivid life. As we follow the couple’s triumphs and tragedies, many themes for discussion come to light: the power of love, the rules of war, honor versus loyalty, and the bounds of tradition at odds with personal freedom. Consider these questions as your book group talks about The First Princess of Wales.

  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

  1. The First Princess of Wales is filled with colorful and intriguing characters, both at the heart of the story and at its edges. Which were some of the ones that stood out for you? Why?

  2. “Joan just rolled her eyes at the wry, lively old woman, Marta, who had been so many things to her for as long as she could remember—nursemaid, companion, taleteller, playfriend, almost a mother, even” (Chapter One). Discuss Joan’s relationship with Marta. How would you best characterize it? Did it change as they each got older? If so, how?

  3. Joan and Edward’s first meeting at King Edward’s court is anything but ordinary (Chapter Two). What did you make of their encounter? What did their meeting say about each of their personalities? Did it foreshadow any part of their long relationship?

  4. Marta thinks, “If Joan of Kent, young though she be, were head of this family rather than her two elder brothers, the restful white hart on the family crest might well be a white, raging whirlwind” (Chapter One). Do you think Joan was wild? Compare Joan to Princess Isabella; which of the two seemed more reckless? Is “wildness” a good or bad quality to possess in The First Princess of Wales?

  5. After the brutal murder of her husband, Joan’s mother, Lady Margaret, retreats from her family, shunning Joan in particular. Why does she do this? What are some of the effects this behavior has on Joan? Discuss their relationship. Joan’s young daughter, Bella, shares similarities with Joan in terms of her role in the family. What are some of these similarities?

  6. “It is all vast, Lady Joan, vast and busy out there. Step out a moment if you wish. All will be as it will be, one way or the other, whatever you do” (Chapter Two). What do Morcar’s words to Joan mean, both in that moment and through the book? Did Joan believe in fate in the same way Edward did? Why or why not? What did you think of Morcar and his prophetic astrological charts?

  7. Family, and familial duty, is at the center of The First Princess of Wales. Talk about the important, and sometimes detrimental, role family has on the main characters.

  8. In thinking of Joan after their first meeting, Edward reflects, “She, for a certainty, would not be meek or willing. She, like his most prized destrier or precious female peregrine falcon, would take some handling and some taming” (Chapter Three). Can you think of some examples where Edward attempts to “train” Joan? Was he successful?

  9. After her first meeting with Edward, Joan chastises herself for thinking about him: “Pure, rank foolishness to fathom love in so short a span, so impossible a circumstance” (Chapter Five). Why doesn’t she let herself fall for him? What’s behind Joan’s continuous efforts to deny herself what she truly wants?

  10. Joan and Edward’s physical encounters are usually described with terms such as “assault,” “defense,” “conquer,” “surrender.” Why did the author choose these words of battle to describe what were romantic interludes?

  11. As Joan and Isabella prepare to ride in the tournament dressed as men, Joan thinks, “It would be . . . a statement to anyone who tried to rule and control her and Isabella’s lives” (Chapter Ten). Did Joan succeed in making such a statement? What are examples of Joan’s similar actions? Did they have the desired effect? Why or why not?

  12. “Power and victory assailed her: the king, doting on her, gazing fondly on her, yet unknowing of her true intents and purpose” (Chapter Ten). What did you make of Joan’s plan to seduce the king? What of her other attempts at revenge? Was it surprising that none succeed in the way she intended?

  13. See the description of the clothing Joan and Isabella planned to don for the torch festival (Chapter Eleven). The author includes many detailed passages about clothing in The First Princess of Wales. What does clothing represent in this story?

  14. The book is filled with the lyrics to the lutenists’ many songs, including those of Joan. What does music mean in The First Princess of Wales? Why is it such a potent form of communication?

  15. Queen Philippa admonishes Joan: “Love fades, poor Joan, and then there is only duty and remembrance” (Chapter Twenty-five). Do you agree with the Queen’s words? What was the Queen trying to tell Joan?

  16. Why do you think Joan and Edward’s love endured for as long as it did? Did their eventual marriage seem like it was well deserved? Why or why not?

  17. In the author’s note, the author draws a comparison between Joan and Edward’s epic love affair and that of today’s Prince of Wales, Charles, and his wife, Camilla Parker Bowles. Do you agree with this comparison? What other sets of star-crossed lovers, British royalty or otherwise, can you compare to Joan and Edward?

  LOOK FOR THESE OTHER ELIZABETH I MYSTERIES FROM

  KAREN HARPER

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  Available from St. Martin’s / Minotaur Paperbacks

  “Elizabethan history has

  never been this appealing.”

  —Newsday

  AND DON’T MISS THE LATEST INSTALLMENT IN HARPER’S ACCLAIMED ELIZABETH I SERIES

  The Hooded Hawke

  Now available in hardcover from St. Martin’s Minotaur

  ALSO BY KAREN HARPER

  The Last Boleyn

  The Fatal Fashione

  The Fyre Mirror

  The Queene’s Christmas

  The Thorne Maze

  The Queene’s Cure

  The Twylight Tower

  The Tidal Poole

  The Poyson Garden

  Copyright © 1984 by Karen Harper

  Reader’s Group Guide copyright © 2006 by Three Rivers
Press, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Three Rivers Press, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  www.crownpublishing.com

  Three Rivers Press and the Tugboat design are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  Originally published as Sweet Passion’s Pain in the United States by Kensington Publishing Corp., New York, in 1984.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Harper, Karen (Karen S.)

  [Sweet passion’s pain]

  The first Princess of Wales : a novel / Karen Harper.—1st pbk. ed.

  “Originally published as Sweet passion’s pain . . . in 1984”—T. p. verso.

  1. Joan, Princess of Wales, 1328–1385—Fiction. 2. Edward, Prince of Wales, 1330–1376—Fiction. 3. Great Britain—History—Edward III, 1327–1377—Fiction. 4. Middle Ages—Fiction. I.Title.

  PS3558.A624792S94 2006

  813'.54—dc22 2005035118

  eISBN: 978-0-307-35196-8

  v3.0

 


 

  Karen Harper, The First Princess of Wales

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