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both the king and queen were still young enough to have children, none were born to them. But Henry IV’s offspring adored their stepmother.
    After sitting in the queen’s antechamber for several hours, the Earl of Leighton and the king’s servant were ushered into Queen Joan’s presence. The earl bowed low and kissed the elegant beringed hand held out to him.
    “His Highness, the king, would have you aid this gentleman, madam,” the servant said, and then he backed from the room, leaving the earl to face the queen, along with her attendants, who sat about the chamber sewing and chattering softly.
    “You are?” Queen Joan asked Robert Bowen seated in a high-backed chair, a footstool beneath her feet.

    “Robert Bowen, the Earl of Leighton, madam,” he told her.
    “What is it I may do for you, my lord?” the queen inquired of him softly.
    Quietly, as carefully and quickly as he could, the earl explained his situation. He did not wish to heap criticism upon his wife, but he did need Queen Joan to understand the desperate situation that he faced in the matter of his daughter.
    The queen nodded slowly, and when he had finished she said, “Aye, I can see the difficulty, my lord, but you are partly to blame for it. When you took your bride you were not firm with her. Your daughter should never have been made to live outside of your house in another dwelling. Like my dear late husband’s uncles were, you legitimated your daughter. Your wife was obviously spoiled and allowed to have her own way by her parents.” Queen Joan shook her head. “But even if your wife had accepted your little girl, it would be better that she be fostered out. She has a dower portion, I assume.”
    “With the goldsmith Isaac Kira, in London,” the earl said, and then he told the queen the amount he had placed with the goldsmith.
    The queen drew in a sharp breath. “Indeed, my lord, ’tis a considerable amount. You will have no trouble finding a worthy husband of impeccable breeding for your child one day. But for now we must find a suitable family for her.”
    “I would be honored if you could suggest such a family, Your Highness,” the earl said. “My family is old. It is honorable. But we have always lived quietly, avoiding entanglements that might bring dishonor to us or those we serve.”
    Queen Joan nodded. “There is nothing wrong with being prudent, my lord. Now tell me how old your daughter is.”
    “She is seven, madam,” he answered.
    “Has she been taught? What languages does she speak?” the queen continued.
    “She speaks both English and French, and can understand church
Latin, madam,” he told her. “She can do sums. She rides well, and her manners are good.”
    “Then she is fit for the best company,” Queen Joan concluded. “Somerset’s widow has remarried herself to Thomas Plantagenet, the Duke of Clarence. She has left her children by John Beaufort in the care of others. Henry, the eldest, now holds his father’s titles, and remains in his own home. His three brothers are all fostered out, and serve different masters. His sisters are at home. The youngest will remain there for the interim, for she is only four, but I am considering bringing my namesake, Lady Joan Beaufort, who is almost nine, into the royal household. She is a sweet girl. Perhaps your daughter would make a good companion for her. Yes. I shall bring young Joan here, and your daughter will have a place among her maiden companions.” Queen Joan looked at the Earl of Leighton. “It is settled. Bring your daughter to me, my lord.”
    Robert Bowen was astounded. Never had he anticipated such a high place for his wee Cicely! To be fostered within the royal house was an honor belonging to a greater name than his. “M-madam,” he stammered, and he flushed at his own awkwardness. “My family is not worthy of such an honor. Forgive me, but are you certain you would have my daughter? I am in your debt to such an extent I doubt I can ever repay