Joanna (28 page)

“You have done as well as any man could,” Joanna soothed, “and I am sure you do your father an injustice in saying he believes any ill of you.”

“Perhaps,” he replied discontentedly, “but I am rubbed raw somewhere within, and I am ready to leap down any throat that offers.”

“So I noticed,” Joanna rejoined provocatively, controlling a quirk of the lips. Apparently, Geoffrey did not wish to be soothed so it was a good wife’s duty to quarrel with him to his heart’s content. Joanna had been told over and over that too great compliance was no virtue, and she had been told also how Queen Berengaria had lost her husband from a reluctance to give him a cause to rage at her.

If Geoffrey heard her invitation to begin to quarrel anew, he gave no sign of it. He continued speaking along a path already open in his mind. “And then my father, who can sometimes be as great a fool as any man alive, tells me he asked the king not to summon me to keep me from fighting in the” Geoffrey stopped and uttered a bald obscenity. Only a few hours after Ela had skinned him for speaking of fighting with pleasureand he knew Joanna felt the samehe had put his foot in his mouth again.

Joanna blinked at the word, not because she was shocked by it but because she could not understand what had set Geoffrey off. He had ignored her promising invitation to an argument, but then she noticed he was eyeing her with some trepidation. Apparently he expected
her
to be angry. She would have been happy to oblige him, but there was nothing at all in what he had been saying that could offend her.

“What is it?” she asked, willing to be cooperative, but puzzled.

“I was about to speak of something that gives me pleasure, but about which you and I think differently.”

That made Joanna blink again. There was only one thing at court that might give Geoffrey pleasure of which she would really disapprove. The expression on her face must have told its tale without words, because Geoffrey flushed deeply and then began to laugh.

“Joanna,” he protested. Then, choosing the lesser of the evils said, “I was about to say that it will be a great relief to me to wag my sword in the tourney instead of my tongue. I am sorry if you do not like it, Joanna, but”

“Why should I not like it?” Joanna asked in amazement.

She did not connect the discussion they had had at Clyro on the subject of war with fighting in a court tourney. Joanna knew that men were often injured in a tourney, but those injuries were not usually desperate and death was an even rarer occurrence. There was, unless some old, bitter grudge should have been saved for such an event, no intention to harm an opponent. Most times an injured man would be helped off the field, even tended by the man who had wounded him. Geoffrey did not realize that Joanna made a distinction between war and tourney. Ela did not seem to do so. An initial sense of relief gave way to the uneasy thought that Joanna was not angry because she did not care.

“You spoke ill enough of fighting some months ago,” Geoffrey said.

“Did I? Oh, Geoffrey, if we are to stand here and talk, you might as well come in and be at ease.”

He was not satisfied with her casual reply. “No. I want to tell my father you are here safe and I’doubt whether I would be at ease with the servants sweeping and laying rushes and moving furniture around. You would soon enough wish me elsewhere.”

Since that was the truth, Joanna only smiled, which did not give Geoffrey any satisfaction either. He kissed her hand formally and turned away, meaning the gesture as a reproach. It failed that purpose completely because Joanna accepted it as a reluctance to embrace her more intimately in front of the waiting men. She watched him ride off and went   contentedly to do the household tasks which were, indeed, much easier to perform without an impatient man underfoot. Although she was a little surprised that he did not return to sleep in the bed she had made ready for him, Joanna did not take offense or regard it as a punishment. As yet, she was less “in love” than of a loving nature; thus, she was not yet sensitive to each word and expression as Geoffrey was. She did not read obscure meanings into gestures or smiles. Had Joanna seen or heard of any action that overtly displayed Geoffrey’s love for another, she would have been hurt and furious. However, she did not yet seek for assurance of love in every glance and suffer disappointment when she did not find it.

Thus, Joanna met Geoffrey with smiles when he came to escort her first to his father’s house and then to court. Having spent the night brooding over imagined coldness, Geoffrey was not pleased with his betrothed’s mild manner. It was unfortunate that the distance between Salisbury’s house and her own was so short. Had it been longer, Joanna would have realized that something personal was troubling Geoffrey. As it was she assumed he was still brooding over his political differences with his father, and once they were in company with others the distractions of greetings and exchanging news fixed Joanna’s attention elsewhere.

The meeting with the king went very well. John was at his best, kind and jocular, laughing openly because Salisbury had frustrated his attempts to please his nephew and niece-by-marriage by providing them both with a surprise meeting.

“Here am I, having gone to the trouble to send Lady Joanna a private summons, just so that Geoffrey would find her hereand my own dear brother casts a stick between my legs by begging me
not
to summon his son. But you see that good intentions are rewarded. Geoffrey came of himself, so I have done well and pleased everyone.”

Certainly that speech had pleased. Salisbury beamed and even Geoffrey smiled. It was a logical and most innocent explanation of John’s action, and not out of character. The   king could be very kind and thoughtful for those of whom he was fond, especially when the gesture cost him nothing. His lechery had made him suspect, but Salisbury and Geoffrey were willing to believe that his depravity did not go so far as desiring to soil his own family. Joanna was more wary because she had been raised on tales of how tenacious John was of a grudge, but she was perfectly willing to act as if the king had bestowed a favor on her. Certainly, she would not permit an apparent ingratitude on her part to increase John’s animosity toward her mother and stepfather. She would simply do her best to avoid his notice, after giving pretty thanks for his kind thought, but that could easily be disguised as the modesty of a young maiden, not an affront.

In fact, John’s actions seemed to confirm what he had said. He nodded to Joanna’s curtsy and made no objection when she retreated, beckoning Geoffrey forward to ask him very quietly whether he intended to take part in the tourney. “Your father will not like it, and I can arrange”

“If you please, my lord, I have already discussed the matter with my father. He has withdrawn his objections.”

The king seemed gratified and began to talk about the details of the event with his nephew, remarking that he was most anxious to give the affair a grand air even though it was to be brief. He would not wish that there be any shade of contempt as a victor might show for a vanquished enemy. That was all to be forgotten now; Scotland and England were to be friends. Geoffrey privately wished that John would show equally good sense with regard to the Welsh or even to his own noblemen, but he agreed with his uncle readily and as readily agreed to be introduced to Alexander and to show the young man suitable attentions. Geoffrey was very happy to oblige his uncle since he was even more directly obliging Ian. A solid friendship with the prince of Scotland might well close the northern door to any of Ian’s vassals who thought to disobey him and take refuge in the Scots court.

Geoffrey found Alexander to be a very pleasant young man with tastes and interests that fitted most excellently   with his own. They were fast in talk ten minutes after John brought them together and still talking an hour later. Engelard d’Atie and William de Cantelu had joined them and they were making a good deal of cheerful noise arguing about the relative merits of various hunting hawks. Obviously, words would change no one’s opinions, so Geoffrey suggested they go out to try the birds the next day, offering to get his uncle’s permission to use a royal hunting preserve in easy distance. This offer was greeted with enthusiasm and soon the plans were widened to spend a night or two in the royal hunting lodge and see what other game they could come upon.

Very faintly as they made final plans amid a good deal of laughter, Geoffrey’s conscience pricked him. Joanna had sent for him so that his company would shield her from unwanted attentions, but then Geoffrey reminded himself that she did not seem to want his attention either. He certainly no longer suspected the king of offering any threat to her and told himself that Ela could manage anyone else. He was annoyed too by the fact that, as usual, a group of young men had collected around Joanna like ants around a honey pot. At least Braybrook was not there. The relief was short-lived as Geoffrey’s quick glance around the room soon fell upon that gentleman. He was not, as he should have been, paying assiduous attention to another woman to indicate he had no interest in Joanna. Instead he stood by himself, ostentatiously trying to appear to avoid her while now and again making a gesture or casting a glance from her to Geoffrey that showed where his attention was truly fixed.

Geoffrey was not the only one who noticed Braybrook. Joanna was also horribly aware of what he was doing. What she could not decide was why. Had the queen ordered him to continue to make advances? If so, he was both ways a sniveling cowardtoo afraid to deny Isabella and too afraid to obey her and face Geoffrey. There was also the possibility that the idiot was truly attracted to her and thought he was concealing the fact by the way he was behaving. Within minutes Joanna did not care why. All she wanted to know   was what to do herself. It was not lost upon her that Geoffrey had grown silent and Engelard d’Atie, a long-time friend had read the signs aright and had drawn Alexander and William de Cantelu aside. Worse, among the courtiers and ladies who stood between and around herself, Bray-brook, and Geoffrey, conversation ran in fits and starts while sly glances were cast at them.

A few more minutes made it absolutely necessary to do something. Joanna excused herself courteously to the gentlemen around her but with her mind very clearly elsewhere. Actually, she was fighting to control her temper and the strong impulse to walk over and spit in Braybrook’s face. No consideration of good manners or modesty withheld her. She had, in fact, taken a step in that direction before the realization came to her that such an act might do more to confirm the sickening rumors than to eliminate them. So violent a reaction on her part must betoken strong feeling, the rumor mongers would gleefully relate. Having moved, however, it was absolutely necessary to continue moving. To hesitate was again to underline Braybrook’s importance to her.

Urgent need is a good teacher to the quick in mind. Joanna stepped forward without any apparent hesitation. Her eyes were now fixed upon her too-quiet betrothed. Less than halfway to Geoffrey, her route crossed Braybrook’s position. She nodded her head, smiled pleasantly, sketched a curtsy as one does for an old acquaintance, and continued with unbroken purpose to Geoffrey’s side.

“My lord,” she said softly, looking without flinching into flaming yellow eyes above a hard mouth and pinched nostrils, “I forgot to ask you whether I should make ready a bed for you this night.”

Geoffrey was furious. It was very clear to him that Bray-brook was no victim of the queen’s tongue; in some way, although it was not yet certain what way, he was an active participant. However, Geoffrey was not drunk now and was well aware that any move he made against Braybrook would not only be a political mistake but would smirch Joanna’s   name. At the moment he could have cheerfully murdered Joanna for placing him in this position, yet he knew she had done nothing to deserve anger; it was not her fault she had been born beautiful. He licked his lips, trying to ease the stiffness of clenched teeth and set jaw.

“You had better, I suppose, but why do you come now to ask?

“Because I intend to leave very soon. Ela is not here, and you are well occupied. I have excuse enough in that my house is not yet in order and Lady Ela is not well. As soon as the queen comes and I have spoken to her, I will go.”

Mollified by Joanna’s obvious disinterest in the attention she had been receiving, Geoffrey tipped his head very slightly in Braybrook’s direction. “And what about that half-baked preening cock?”

Joanna curled her lip. “I do not know whether he is an idiot or a craven. If it were not that there could be no worse time to start a feud between his father and yours, I would bid you crack him like a louse. Short of that, I do not know what to do. To spit in his face, which I would like to do my-self, would only draw attention.”

The contempt in her voice could not be feigned. Further mollified, Geoffrey smiled at her. “Let us go together and bid him good day. I am not known for a patient nature. If it is seen that I scorn him, some tongues may be stilled.”

Generally speaking that would have been an excellent idea; however, Joanna wished Geoffrey had not been so near the truth when he said he had not a patient nature. Usually he was very sweet tempered, but in anything that touched his pride he was even too quick to react. Also, between political pressures and jealousy he was, as he admitted himself, rubbed raw and oversensitive. Nonetheless, it would be far worse to seem reluctant to face Braybrook in his presence. Besides, for all that Ian said and Geoffrey said, for all that her mind accepted the political necessity, Joanna did not really care if Geoffrey offended Braybrook and thereby made more trouble for the king.

“Good day to you, Sir Henry,” Geoffrey said, having   led Joanna to Braybrook’s side before that gentleman could retreat without making a fool of himself. Geofrey’s voice was pleasant, his smile was not. “You seem to be in some way made uneasy by Lady Joanna and myself. Can I offer you some assistance?”

It was patently evident that Braybrook had not expected this open, frontal attack. His confused consternation was so obvious that it surprised Joanna into laughter, and Geoffrey’s smile broadened into a grin. Eyes from all over the room flashed toward them and away again. Everyone was fascinated by the confrontation, but no one wished to be dragged in between such powerful forces as the elder Braybrook and the Earl of Salisbury. Sir Henry was well aware of that; he knew that, although no one was watching openly, all ears were cocked and all eyes alert. Until that moment he had been so well satisfied with his attempt to discomfit and shame Joanna that he had almost felt repaid for the rosebush incident. Now, however, spite and rage were renewed tenfold and mingled to deprive him of caution momentarily.