Joanna (25 page)

Somewhere deep in Joanna’s mind there was an intimate connection between King John and the Father of Evil. The king had been the enemy in her home since the day she was born. Her memories of her father were now very dim, but one of them was of Simon in a real rageto be clearly distinguished from the brief tempers Minor drove him intocursing the king as the misbegotten spawn of Satan. It was all becoming too real.

Geoffrey and Joanna had managed to avoid the court, but Lady Ela kept Joanna well supplied with newsand most of it was not good. Nothing of great importance had happened since the pope’s emissaries and Renaud Dammartin had departed, but many minor incidents, far too many, showed the king’s contempt for his nobles and his indifference to their opinion of him.

Joanna spent Christmas alone at Roselynde. She had not known whether she was pleased or disappointed when she returned there at the beginning of the second week in December and found Geoffrey’s letter saying that he could not be with her. There was no doubt in her mind that she missed him, that she longed for his conversation, the sound of his sweet voice singing, his touchbut, since they had almost come to coupling in Clyro, there had been a marked constraint between them.

They had met twice for a few days and, while they discussed business and exchanged news, they were very happy together. The ease, however, did not persist. When they touched, even by accident, it was as if lightning passed between them. There was a shock, painful in intensity. Joanna could feel her heart check and then begin to hammer. Geoffrey would flush a little and withdraw stiffly. Joanna did not   misread him. It was clear that he felt what she felt. His eyes burned yellow with desire. What she did misunderstand was the reason for his restraint. She was more convinced than ever that he had lied at Clyro, that there was some important purpose behind the choice of betrothal over marriage.

Thus, Joanna did not ask in any of the letters she wrote to Alinor for permission to marry. She was, in fact, careful not even to hint of her desire. Geoffrey came into her letters only as he served a political purpose. But her body was not docile to her will; reason meant nothing to her lips and her skin and her loins. Geoffrey had awakened her lust, and it would not be lulled back to sleep. When he was near, she found her nostrils spreading to catch his scent, her hand lifting, without volition to touch him, her knee moving to press his under the table.

It was some comfort to Joanna, for desire had not yet killed her sense of humor, that whatever Geoffrey did to assuage his lust while they were apart was of little help to him when they were together. She was both titillated and amused when he drew himself together so they should not brush in passing, when he tore his eyes from an absorbed contemplation of her face or throat or breast to fix them stubbornly on some less magnetic object. It was a comfort to know he suffered also, but a painful one when he would not even permit her to perform the common services of a hostess, such as bathing him and helping him dress. Joanna was not offended; she understood why. She had even laughed heartily at him when he roared at her to get out and let him bebut she wanted to touch him, she wanted to.

There was thus as much relief as sadness when Joanna read Geoffrey’s letter and she sighed only a little when she packed the gifts she had made ready for her betrothed and sent them off with Knud to be delivered to him. Nonetheless, it was lonely in Roselynde, and Joanna set about arranging the twelve-day festivities very listlessly. It was going to be very odd to be sitting all alone in great state at the high table with no one to talk to or laugh with. Joanna was almost tempted to go to Iford or Kingsclere, just for the   sake of company, but her sense of duty would not permit her to deprive the people of Roselynde of their celebrations for such a small thing as a little loneliness.

In the end, she had more pleasure from the holiday than she expected. On the morning of the first day, Sir Guy came riding in with a chest full of gifts from Alinor and Ian. He had come from Ireland and had concealed himself in Roselynde town just to give her a pleasant surprise. The afternoon of the same day brought two more welcome gueststhe eldest son of one of Geoffrey’s vassals and Salisbury’s eldest squire, the former with Geoffrey’s presents and the latter with those from Salisbury and Lady Ela. All her loved ones had remembered her, Joanna realized with warmth, and each intended to make every day of the holiday pleasant.

The first-day gifts were pretty trinkets. The second-day brought more valuable articles of clothing and jewelry. And so, in progression, culminating in a sapphire and gold necklet from Ian and Alinor, an exquisite gown and tunic, stiff with gold thread and gems from Salisbury and Ela, and, from Geoffrey, moonstones set in silver, glowing with the same misty light as Joanna’s eyes. Next best to the joy she felt in being so thoughtfully remembered was that Joanna was not alone. The high table rang with laughter, for the young men were just about Joanna’s own age and Sir Guy did nothing to damp their innocent merriment. For that time, womanly gifts and her sixteen years notwithstanding, Joanna was again a child intent only on ludicrous pranks and silly jests.

Even when the merriment was over and the two young guests had said their goodbyes, Sir Guy remained. It was very quiet in Ireland, he told Joanna, although neither Lord Pembroke nor Lord Ian believed the country could yet be left to itself. There was good hope, however, that ultimately the land would truly be content with England’s rule. To Pembroke’s and Ian’s pleased surprise, John Grey, the bishop of Norwich, had turned into a fair and efficient administrator once out from under the king’s influence. There   was nothing wrong with Norwich’s understanding, nor did he lack industry, imagination, and application. All he was missing was the courage to stand up against a man he feared. If John stayed out of Ireland, the country would do very well in Norwich’s hands.

Sir Guy’s continued presence had both advantages and disadvantages. Joanna was very glad of his support and his company. Also, when Geoffrey paid a flying visit in January, Sir Guy seemed to act as a buffer between them. Possibly because there was little occasion for them to be alone, unless they deliberately sought an opportunity, the violent sexual tension that had afflicted them did not arise. They were able to be friendly, to laugh and talk as they had in the past. Unfortunately, Sir Guy’s presence also eliminated Joanna’s best excuse for avoiding the court. Thus, in mid-February, when an invitation to attend the celebration of Easter and witness the knighting of Prince Alexander came from the king, Joanna had little choice but to obey. She sent a messenger off to tell Geoffrey she had been summoned and then, as slowly as possible, to give Geoffrey time to arrive before her, she made ready to go.

Geoffrey was more than a little puzzled by Joanna’s message. Although he had not been back to court since he had been told to leave, he had all the news regularly from his father. He knew that Alexander was to be knighted but could understand neither why Joanna had been summoned so early nor, for that matter, why she had been summoned at all. To summon Ian, who had lands in the north, would be reasonable, but Joanna was not Ian’s heir. He had a son of his own. Joanna was not even Ian’s deputy; Geoffrey had that responsibility. In fact, Joanna had no business whatever with the prince of Scotland and no reason to witness his investiture.

Equally puzzling to Geoffrey was the fact that he had not been summoned. Perhaps that could be accounted for by the fact that the king was still annoyed with him, but he doubted it. He did not, in fact, think John was angry with him. The king had won the contest between themif one could call a   warning and the rejection of that warning a contest. Geoffrey had been scolded and sent away like a naughty child, and nothing at all had happenedyetto show the king was wrong. Usually, that put John into a good humor. He would often recall the victim of such a humiliation and remind him, periodically and in public, of the incident. Geoffrey had assumed that his father had blocked such a recall. Salisbury understood the value of keeping his touchy son and his tactless brother apart.

Under the circumstances, Geoffrey said a hasty farewell to the vassal he was visiting and rode with all speed to London where the king was keeping Easter. He had no intention, however, of presenting himself to the king until he knew exactly what the situation was, and he rode directly from the Ludgate entrance in the city wall to his father’s house just east of the Knights Templars’ palace. He was not surprised to find his stepmother already in residence.

“Geoffrey, love,” she twittered, “what do you here? And so dusty! And so tired! Come, sit. No, do not sit. Let the maids unarm you. You know I cannot bear to see you all in steel. How surprised your father will be.”

Not unaccustomed to his stepmother’s manner of speech, Geoffrey interpreted swiftly. His father would not be pleased to see him, and there was some reason why he should not appear to be either hurried or aggressive.

“The dust I cannot help, since the weather has been fine and I came by the road, and, as far as being tired, I cannot think why you should say so. I was only at Hemel and rode in from there. I did not bother to write to papa that I was coming becausebecause it was only to see Joanna.”

The pale eyes, which had been casting him flickering glances of approval for answering so astutely, fixed for just a moment. “You clumsy things,” Ela whined at her maids. “Will you never have done pulling him about. Finish! Give him that green gown. Yes, leave the wine. You are so slow I cannot bear to look at you. I will pour out myself rather than have you bumbling about. Begone!”

The maids retreated, so glad to get away without chastisement that they did not wonder too much about what made their mistress crosser than usual. In fact, it was not really unusual. Lady Ela had been in so terrible a humor the last few months that the subject was not really worth discussing any longer.

Inside the withdrawing chamber, Geoffrey had poured his own wine after Ela refused. “Did you come from Hemel?” she asked.

“I am not a liar,” he said, smiling a little. “I was there last night, but I came from Ian’s keeps in the north and, as you thought, in haste. Joanna wrote to me that she was summoned to court.”

Lady Ela’s lips tightened. “By the queen?”

“No, the king.”

“I am surprised she did not send me wordno, of course she would not. She knows I am here in London.”

Geoffrey watched his stepmother’s face. She was not saying anything even vaguely relevant to what was going on in her mind, he thought. Suddenly she rose and walked away to a window that looked out into the long garden leading down to the river. After a moment, Geoffrey followed her. His father’s boat was not at the steps, which meant that Salisbury had gone down river to the Tower or up to Westminster to be with the king. As he reached her, Lady Ela put out a hand and gripped her stepson’s arm. It was so unusual a gesture that Geoffrey looked down at her hand.

“I am afraid,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I am afraid.”

Lifting his eyes, Geoffrey caught his breath. She meant it this time. Ela was always saying she was afraidafraid of heat, of cold, of exertion, of illness, of the sight of armor, of everything. But Geoffrey knew there was really very little that his stepmother feared. Only doubts of her husband’s personal safety could really unnerve her. Instinctively, Geoffrey’s hand reached for his sword hilt. The gesture was abortive both because the maids had removed his sword and because Ela clung to his arm, crying, “No! That cannot help. That is what I fear.”   “You cannot mean that papa is in any danger here,” Geoffrey said unbelievingly.

“None that a sword will deliver him from,” Ela sighed. “Oh Geoffrey, I see ruin. I see ruin. And I cannot wean, your father from his brother. I have triedfor years and years, I have tried. John is destroying himself, and we will all go down with him.”

“What do you mean? What has happened?”

Lady Ela drew a long shuddering breath. “Nothing. Nothing has happened yet, but there are whispers and hints. More and more eyes turn to look at Prince Henry. He is a fine, sweet child, so different from both mother and father thatThere is something else I have seen. FitzWalter spends much time with the queen, whispering in her ear.”

Geoffrey raised his brows. “He is wasting his time.”

“Is he?” Ela breathed fast and shallow. “Is he? Oh, she will not yield him her body, nor does he desire it I think, and he knows she has no powernow. However, he has made himself a prime favorite with her, her advisor on any little thing she desires done. What is more, Vesci and FitzWalter are of a sudden friends of the bosom.”

“Vesci is nearly an open rebel. What has he to do with FitzWalter who owes the king much?”

“Is there any hatred like that of a mean man indebted?” Ela asked bitterly.

“What says my father?” Geoffrey asked. He was uneasy, remembering that the northern barons who were in contact with Vesci had spoken of making the child-prince, Henry, king to rule the nation through a council.

Ela uttered a sharp, mirthless laugh. “He says that the queen will do nothing against the king.”

“He is not mistaken in that,” Geoffrey agreed.

“Oh, you fool!” Ela cried. “Of course the queen will do nothing against the king, but look a little further. If the king should die, will not the queen fly to one she trusts for help? And will she not bring her children with her?”

Geoffrey’s face blanched. There was no one Isabella hated as she hated Salisbury. She would not think twice   about accepting FitzWalter’s “protection” to avoid what she would think of as falling into Salisbury’s power. The child-prince loved his uncle well, but the child would have nothing to say. There were doubtless many men who would prefer Salisbury to rule in the prince’s name. However, if the queen held the prince’s person, the honor of the loyal barons would drive them to obey whatever orders were issued in the child’s name. The best that could come of such a situation was bloody civil war.

“Is there any present threat to the king?” Geoffrey asked tensely.