Joanna (74 page)

In spite of her fatigue, Alinor would not yield her right to sit with her husband. Remembering how she had felt the same when she brought Geoffrey home from France, Joanna did not protest. She was strangely reluctant to leave the sickroom, however. She could hardly endure to turn away from the reawakening life there to meet her own husband’s deathlike despair. Perhaps news of Ian’s well-doing would wake some spark in him.

To Joanna’s amazement, Geoffrey leapt to his feet as soon as she appeared in the stairwell and came across the room nearly at a run. “Joanna, Joanna, did Ian tell you?”

His eyes were blazing, golden as the sun, his breath was quick and his color high. Joanna’s mouth fell open with surprise. Her heart began to pound. Here was Geoffrey, returned to her. She was almost afraid to speak, afraid to move, lest something she should do or say would throw him back into the pit in which he had lain so long.

“Tell me what?” she faltered.

“The king is dead,” he said breathlessly. “John is dead!”

“Yes,” Joanna replied, “I think he did, but”

Geoffrey laughed, seized her around the waist, and began to whirl her around the room in a wild dance, which was made even wilder by his limping step. Joanna could not help laughing also, but she was frightened too.

“Are you mad?” she cried, and there was a note of genuine question under the laughing protest. “Will this not destroy Us utterly?”

“No! No, it is salvation.”

“Do you mean that now all resistance to Louis will die?” Joanna asked hesitantly.

Ian had had little strength and Joanna had done her best not to let him talk, but he had muttered something about Prince Henryno, poor child, he was King Henry
III
now. Joanna knew without being told that Ian would fight for the prince’s right to the throne.

“No, of course not,” Geoffrey laughed.

“But Geoffrey,” Joanna said fearfully, “that the king has died will not discourage Louis.” She kept watching his face, dreading to see the light die out of it. Nonetheless she had to continue. It would hurt more if he glowed longer and then faded. ‘‘The war will go on.”

“Yes, of course,” Geoffrey agreed with enthusiasm. “Yes! Yes!” Then he began to laugh again. “How very glad Roger will be to be rid of usor, at least, of me. Poor man. He knew when he accepted this place that this would be my home and he little more than your Sir Guy, a hired knight. Still, he has had it to himself for so long. And then I came to stayand in such a mood! Joanna, Joanna, we are saved!”

Joanna stared at him. One thing sure she had been wrong about, Geoffrey’s injuries had bred no fear in him. He was   ready, even eager, to fight again. But what was this senseless excitement? “Geoffrey, be quiet,” she said. “What has put you in this fever?”

“Keeping my joy to myself. I came to whisper it to you, but you cast me out, and I did not have the chance”

“Geoffrey,” Joanna protested softly, “I did not love John either, butbut he was your uncle. It is not decent to crow like a cock on a dung heap just because he is dead.”

He saw at last that she did not understand, and he took her and kissed her and drew her to sit in the window seat beside him. “I have frightened you. I am sorry. As to John himself, as a man, I did not care whether he lived or died. He was not a good man. He was cruel and lecherous and treacherous. Let that go. He is dead now. As a king, the matter stands differently. As long as John lived, there could be no end to warnever. If Louis were beaten, new rebels would rise and draw in more pretenders to the throne.”

“But whySurely”

“Because of what John himself was. He could not stop alienating men, even when he wanted to. There was something that ate him and drove him. Perhaps he was possessed. I never told you why my father left him because I was not sure myself. But.he may have discovered that John asked me along on that ravaging of the east to do away with me. Your brother has a keen eye for an assassin’s knife and for an attack from behindand I had grown pretty sharp to see such also. Papa said to me that, when they were together just before Louis came, John had attempted Ela.”

Joanna had made no comment when Geoffrey confessed that John had tried again to kill him. While there was still danger of it, neither Adam nor Geoffrey would have told her such a thing. Now she need no longer worry. Decent or not decent, she began to taste the joy that Geoffrey had expressed. All she said, however, was, “Ela? But he could never endure her.”

“Who knows,” Geoffrey sighed. “There was something sick inside the king. Perhaps it was true. Papa went back to him when things looked so very black, and I do not think he would have if” Suddenly, he smiled again. “It does not   matter any more. Now we are free of John’s vices and treachery. We can begin again.”

They talked all morning and all through dinner, and Joanna began to let her hope take root. The febrile excitement had died out of Geoffrey, but he was warm and alive, his eyes bright and intent as he spoke of the future. The prince was young and he had about him fine, strong menPembroke, Salisbury, Langtonmen who would teach him honor and justice. John’s oath to the pope had died with him, so that England was no vassal state any longer and the annulment of Magna Carta was meaningless. With that as a guide, the prince would know from his youth what were his duties and his rights.

Joanna agreed to everything, more with the joy of seeing hope in Geoffrey than with understanding, although she knew what he said was important. She was so happy that it was only some hours later that she realized she had not offered to relieve her tired mother, nor even arranged to have a meal carried up to her. She ran up, Geoffrey following, and found Alinor and Ian, hand in hand, also with peaceful eyes full of hope. Joanna turned to thrust Geoffrey out again, but Alinor smiled and said he could come in.

“Ian has promised to say just two words, and then go to sleep.”

“He does not even need to say one,” Geoffrey put in eagerly. “I know about the king, and I am ready and more than ready to take up arms for the prince. I will go now, this very night if you think it needful, to swear for myself and for you. Then I am ready to call up my levies. I know they will answer without hesitation now that John is dead. Adam too will come and swear.”

The expression of anxiety faded from Ian’s dark eyes, and his lips twitched into a faint smile. “You need not leave this very night,” he said slowly and with effort but also with pleasure. “You may at least say farewell to your wife.”

Geoffrey laughed aloud. “Do not fear me. I would have spared a few minutes for that.”

“You had better take more than a few minutes at it,” Ian advised.   “Ian, do not waste your breath on nonsense,” Alinor remonstrated, but she could not help smiling. No preoccupation could blind her to her daughter’s glow.

He nodded, still smiling, gathered strength for a minute, and said, “I do not know what will be asked of us, but my levies will answer also, even those in the north. Louis will never sign nor acknowledge Magna Carta, and all know it. I will give you a letter so you can summon them if they are needed before I am strong enough.”

The last words were a bare whisper. Joanna and Alinor both said, “Enough!” with one voice.

“Wait” Ian whispered.

“He does not go tonight,” Joanna said firmly. “Tomorrow you can tell him what else is necessary.”

With those words, she propelled Geoffrey out the door. She withdrew herself, but only into a shadowy corner, waiting the few minutes while Alinor soothed Ian and his eyes closed. Then’she drew her mother away and insisted that Alinor sleep also. It was late, far later than Joanna expected when her mother woke and returned to watch beside her husband again. She hugged Joanna hard but quickly.

“I am sorry, my love, to sleep away so many of the last few hours you will have with Geoffrey,” Alinor murmured hurriedly. “He is whole again, I see. Thank God for it. I will not ask you to tell me now how it came about nor waste more of your time to thank you for my Ian’s life. Go now. Go to your husband.”

Because there was nothing else she could do, Joanna did go, but she was torn between eagerness and fear. To watch a sleeping man breathe, alert to help him if he should seem to be in difficulty, does not occupy the mind. As dusk slipped into night, Joanna had grown less and less sure of the continuation of the miracle she had prayed for for so long. If Geoffrey had changed, slipped back again, she thought she could not live.

That fear, was nearly swallowed in disappointment when she found Geoffrey fast asleep, but enough was left to make her undress very quietly and slip gently into bed. If he did not wake, she would not need to know. However, as soon as   her weight hollowed the mattress, Geoffrey’s arm slid out to draw her close. His lips found her and he began to fondle her body.

Had Joanna suffered less, she Would have realized this was the proof of his cure. In all the months since the ravaging of the east, he had never once approached her for love. When her craving was too strong, Joanna would make the advances. Then he servedor perhaps serviced her would be the better wordswith a pretense of a pleasure that was more dreadful than refusal. At times, the ultimate horror, he had withdrawn when she was finished without completing the act of love himself.

Geoffrey knew her body well. He knew just what would bring it to fever pitch, even while her heart was breaking. As Joanna’s passion rose, so did her fear. Geoffrey’s face was blank; those mirrors of his soul, his eyes, were closed.

“Open your eyes,” she cried. “I cannot bear itopen your eyes.”

They were wide at once, shining in the dim light of the night candle. “My heart,” he whispered, “did I hurt you?”

“No,” she sighed, “no.” He was whole; he saw her. True desire, not merely the fever of the body, flamed up in her.

“What did I do? What is it that you cannot bear?”

“Later. I will tell you later. Love me nowlove me.”

He followed Ian’s advice and took more than a few minutes over it. He brought her to moaning acquiescence and then eased her back to quivering expectation, each time building her heat until at last she cried as she had that time in France, “Hurry, oh hurry, please hurry.” And he brought her with him, both heaving and singing aloud in their joy. They slept at once, still joined, only turning to the side so that Geoffrey’s weight would not crush her.

Morning brought conviction to Joanna at last. She woke, still wrapped in her husband’s arms. He was already awake, gazing at her seriously but with absorbed, loving attention, his head tilted back to see her face better.

“Poor Geoffrey,” she murmured, “you must be so cramped, holding me all night.”   He did not answer that, except for smiling a little to show he had heard. “What is it you cannot bear?” he asked.

Joanna had hoped he would forget, but she knew it was better to speak the truth than to let him depart wondering. “I thought you wereI do not know how to say itserving me to give my body ease although you hated it and hated me, as you have all these months past.”

“Hated? You?” There was horror in his voice. “You are my life. You are the breath of my body. God knows, this last year I would have thrown myself on the first sword shown to me if it was not for you.”

“That may be true, but then you hated me for binding you to life.”

“Not younever. I foresaw only endless years of fear and pain and, in the endI saw what happened to the women, even gentlewomen. I dared not speak of it, comforting myself that when I saw we were overmatched I would kill you myself. I tried so hard to hide it from you that I did not see I hurt you worse by my silence. Beloved, forgive me.”

“One does not forgive a person one loves because there is nono anger. Tell me only this. If what you say is true, why were you soso indifferent when we coupled?”

“Indifferent!” He laughed awkwardly and flushed. “Oh, God! That was true idiocy. I knew it, and yet I could not control it. I did not wish you to bring a child into this world. I saw such horrors before us, if we lived at allflight, prison, starvationand the babe to suffer and fear for. I would have left your bed entirely, butbut, Joanna, I was
not
indifferent.”

Joanna could not help laughing. Now that he had said it, she saw it clearly enough. She had misread him. It was only Geoffrey, always overanxious, always feeling that he must be the one to lift the world on his shoulders. She felt light as a feather. If Geoffrey had not been holding her, she thought, she might float right off the bed.

“Will you do something for me?” she asked.

“Anything, I will do anything.” Then an expression of extreme anxiety came over his face. “I mean”   “Do not spoil it,” Joanna warned, laughing gently. “Even if I am the breath of your body and your life, I know where my influence ends. I will not beg you to stay with me, nor even beg you to take me with you. My mother said to me once, and it is true, that when you love a man you do not bend his soul all awry. I only wished to askwill you play and sing again for me, Geoffrey? You have not done so in a very long time.”

“This very day,” he said joyfully, “as soon as”

The lightness passed. This very day they would be parted again, only God knew for how long. Love remained, confidence in each other, but joy was gone. They rose, dressed, heard mass, ate breakfast, and went to see if Ian was well enough to give Geoffrey orders about his men.

They found him somewhat stronger, although still rasping in his breath. He said what he needed to about the men, and Alinor handed Geoffrey the letter she had written and Ian had managed to sign and seal. Then he looked from one to the other as they stood, handfast, facing again the sorrow of parting.

“What I wished to say when you all overbore me, was that I do not think any large armies will be on the march in the next few weeks. Many who hated John do not hate young Henry, and many have come to realize what Louis and his men really want here. I doubt there will be any hard fighting until the lines are drawn clear again and the sides are sorted out.” His voice was weakening.

“Let me finish, love,” Alinor interrupted. “The west will be hard for the prince. He is known there and that is where Pembroke is strongest. In fact, the worst danger will be around London where Louis’s strong points are. Ian thinks this is no good place for Joanna.”