Winter 1340, Rochester Castle, Kent, England

One thing Joan had grown fond of was having their cousin Joanna of Kent living nearby. Joanna lived with her mother, the Countess of Kent. One chilly day, both ladies dined with Joan and Isabella.

The late Earl of Kent, Edmund, was Joanna's father. He had originally sided with Isabella of France and her lover Roger Mortimer to overthrow King Edward II, but then he turned on the pair and ended up under an executioner's blade for treason. The current king Edward III posthumously pardoned him, but Joanna lived under the shadow of her father's shame. Her younger brother was now the Earl with Joanna being his heiress.

Isabella sat at the head of the dining table because she held the highest rank. Joan sat to one side while the Countess and the cousin sat on the other. The Countess was a tall woman, showing her age with the wrinkles around her eyes and a head of white and grey hair where beautiful blonde locks had once been. She was very prim and aware of social standings. She had almost lost everything when her husband was executed. She knew socialising with the King's daughters was a way to stay on his good side, but Edward had looked after them for a long time. The Countess and her four children had been placed under house arrest in Sussex after Edmund was executed, and the strain on the family was something Joanna was too young to remember but the Countess could never forget

"Thank you for the invitation to dinner," the Countess said after grace was said. "We did want to share the good news that my daughter is betrothed."

"Betrothed?" Joan repeated. She looked over at her cousin who looked down. She remembered the letter Joanna had sent her when she was overseas. Joanna wrote how she was already married.

"Yes, to the son of the Earl of Salisbury," the Countess said with a smile. She touched her daughter's shoulder. "It is an admirable match. She is lucky to have such a match after her father's death almost ruined us."

"When is the wedding?" Isabella asked.

"As soon as next week, once we get everything in order. They are the same age, fortunately. She could have done worse."

"How wonderful for you," Isabella said.

Joan bit her lip and anxiously waited until after dinner to find a moment alone with her cousin. "Would you like to see my latest needlework, Cousin?" Joan asked. They excused themselves down to the bedroom to whisper as Isabella looked at them curiously. Nonetheless, Isabella escorted the Countess to the main hall as the lute player started to play and Joan and her cousin could speak alone.

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"You wrote to me you were already married," Joan said.

"I am. I did. My husband is overseas fighting for your father in France and Flanders. I don't know if I'll ever see him again," Joanna replied.

"What will happen next week? Will you reveal the truth?"

"I cannot. You know I married without permission from the King. Perhaps that makes the marriage invalid. I am not sure, and I'm scared who to ask. Oh, they'll kill Thomas if they knew we were married. It is treason to marry a royal without permission." Joanna looked down at her hands. "I only wrote to you since I had to confide in someone, and I didn't know you would return to England. You must swear to tell no one."

Joan took a moment and inhaled a deep breath. "I swear it."

"I will marry Salisbury's son next week," Joanna said quietly.

"What if Thomas returns?"

"Oh, Cousin, I don't know! If he doesn't die in battle, I am a bigamist, but if I confess, I will be a widow." She grabbed Joan's hand. "I love Thomas. The marriage was consummated. And now our lives are at risk."

"I'm sorry for you," Joan said.

"Don't fall in love, Cousin. It is a dangerous thing. Marry who you are told and make the best of it. Maybe you can love your husband, but it's not crucial for you to." She looked away. "Let us return to Mother before they get suspicious of us."

* * *

True to her word, Joan kept her cousin's secret to herself even when Isabella pressed her for more information. Isabella knew Joan and Joanna were whispering about something, but when Joan wouldn't tell her, Isabella gave her the silent treatment for two days.

"I gave her my word," Joan said, but Isabella carried on her day without looking or speaking to her.

The next week, William Montagu, the Earl's son, wed his married bride in front of all the nobles in Kent. Isabella's silent sentence ended so the family members could converse as usual. William was a few inches shorter than Isabella with pale skin aside from pock scars. Joan did not envy her cousin's groom.

When Joanna cried at the end of the ceremony, everyone thought it was because she was a nervous, blushing bride. Joan wanted to object. It was wrong for the marriage to continue, but she couldn't be responsible for endangering anyone.

Joan's heart ached watching the couple who barely looked at each other the whole time. even the kiss was no more than a quick peck. When she herself married, would she keep her eyes down and body turned away from her groom? Would she even look upon a groom before they were at the altar? What if he was ugly? What if he was mean?

She dreaded falling in love and dreaded life without it.