Joanna (51 page)

To Joanna this was instantly equated with a spearhead position in the fighting. Her one desire was to embrace her husband’s knees and weep and plead until he promised to withdraw from the action. Since Joanna knew quite well that such behavior could only add an enormous burden of worry to what Geoffrey would be carrying and would not turn him from his purpose, she could only listen to him in silence. Eventually, she gained sufficient control of herself to reply with outward placidity that Geoffrey must, of course, do his duty as he thought best. In one way this calm acceptance of his absence was a relief to Geoffrey, but it also increased his conviction that he meant little more to Joanna than her favorite dog.

At Portsmouth Geoffrey found Salisbury in charge. This was not surprising in spite of the fact that Salisbury knew very little about the sea or seamen. The armada which was devised to stop Philip at sea was easily as important to the defense of the country as the army assembled on Barham Down. To whom else would John entrust it? Salisbury was intelligent and adaptable. Perhaps he could not learn to steer or sail a ship in a few days or weeks, but he could certainly learn the principles of fighting afloat.

Geoffrey did know a good deal about the sea and seamen. He had sailed with the merchants and fishermen from Roselynde, had fought pirates and sea reavers all along Lady Alinor’s coastal possessions when he was Ian’s squire. Salisbury seized upon him with bellows of delight, and Geoffrey was soon as busy and burdened as he had been at any time during the Welsh campaign. He did not have time to think about Joanna and whom she loved best. All but the   faintest trace of dissatisfaction was pushed out of his mind when John ordered his well-prepared navy into action.

They were to try out their power in raids against Fécamp, Dieppe, and the French shipping in the river Seine. On April 8, Philip convened his council at Soissons and announced publicly his intention of invading England. As soon as the news came across the channel, which Philip took good care it should do, hoping to strike terror into John, Salisbury began his strikes. At Fécamp and on the Seine they were successful. The raid on Dieppe was also damaging to the French, but there Geoffrey was wounded and very nearly drowned. To save his son the pain of being jolted over miles of bad road in a springless cart, Salisbury ordered that the ship that carried him should leave the main force and sail on to make port in Roselynde rather than Portsmouth.

Joanna had immediate news of her husband’s arrival and condition. While Geoffrey was being tenderly carried from the ship, a servant from the harbor master’s household was sent galloping up the hill to the keep. By the time Geoffrey had been moved up the road, all was ready for him. The tears had been dashed from Joanna’s eyes, the terror had been firmly repressed into a little cold knot in the pit of her stomach. One did not add to the torment of a wounded man by weeping and wailing over him. Joanna greeted Geoffrey with calm assurances that he would soon be well, dressed his hurts anew, fed him, and smiled upon him.

Geoffrey could not complain of any lack in his wife’s tenderness and care. She watched him every moment, even foresaw his needs before he was completely aware himself that he wanted a drink or to shift his position or some other easing. She talked to him gently and cheerfully on any topic she thought would interest him and divert his mind, was always ready to read to him or gamble with him as he grew better.

Nonetheless there was a small, empty hollow deep inside Geoffrey. His examples of loving wives were Lady Alinor and Lady Ela. Neither by the remotest stretch of the truth   could be said to have a calm disposition. Both tended to show affection and relief by scolding. If Ian was hurt, Alinor alternately called him a jackass for not being more careful and embraced and kissed him fiercely. If Salisbury should be wounded, Lady Ela berated her husband for being inconsiderate and taking chances that might lead to her widowhood, interspersing her scolding liberally with. caresses. In fact, Geoffrey did not want Joanna to act in a like manner. He had often wondered how Ian and his father bore so patiently with their wives. He did not know what he wanted. Had he been sure that the attention Joanna gave him was proof of love, he would have regarded himself as the happiest man alivebut he was not sure and the attention was so dear to him that he was afraid to ask lest even that be taken away.

Aside from her natural fears for Geoffrey’s physical safety, Joanna had been very happy in her marriage. She was quite sure Geoffrey loved her. He was nothing loath to speak his mind on that subject and endearments followed each thanks for her service to him. She was now as much in love as he and, thus, was more sensitive to each glance and gesture. As he grew better, she grew more uneasy. Something in the way his eyes followed her told her all was not well, and, for all the ‘‘thanks” and “beloveds” that his lips spoke, she was aware that Geoffrey was dissatisfied. She racked her brains for a hint of how she had failed him without discovering any answer. She even asked, “What lacks you?” far too often, for Joanna knew it was very wrong to tease a sick man with questions.

As it was, she was so eager to please Geoffrey that she did things she knew were foolish, like returning to his bed long before he was really strong enough. Not that it did him any harm; Joanna took good care that Geoffrey lay still and did not risk reopening his wound, Her compliance soothed him, but only for a while. All too soon the trouble returned to shadow his eyes even while his lips smiled. Joanna could only conclude that the dissatisfaction was not with her, that Geoffrey was already fretting because he was not with the   fighting force. Fear for him lay heavy on her, poisoning her pleasure in his presence and making her behavior unnatural.

Young and strong as he was, cared for with infinite gentleness and attention, Geoffrey healed swiftly. He noted that as he grew stronger, began to ride and exercise in arms with Tostig, Joanna grew more remote. It occurred to him that the only subject Joanna was reluctant to discuss was the coming war. Unfortunately, that was no clear signpost to where her strongest affections lay. Everyone Joanna loved was involved in some wayAdam guarding Kemp and that part of the southern coast, Ian with John at Barham Downs, Alinor, relying on her daughter’s ability to hold Roselynde, settled into Mersea while, Sir John was with the king’s forces at Ipswich. He could not bring himself to ask for whom Joanna feared most deeply, and Joanna increased his doubt by refusing to speak at all when Geoffrey speculated about whether it would be better to meet Philip on land or by sea. Guilt held her silent. She could not wish to endanger Ian and perhaps even Adam in a land battle, but in her heart she knew what choice she would make if choice was forced upon her.

Before his growing need could push Geoffrey into demanding an avowal from Joanna, Salisbury rode into Roselynde as dusk was falling on May 26. Ostensibly, he came to visit his son, but he was plainly overjoyed to see how near Geoffrey was to total recovery. He had news of the greatest importance, and it was just as well that Salisbury’s attention was fixed upon that or he would have noticed the coldness with which his daughter-by-marriage greeted him. Geoffrey saw and his heart was gladdened. He guessed that his wife knew Salisbury had come to recall him to his duty if he was able for it, and she was very angry. Softly, he warned Joanna to hold her tongue and, with a warm glow of satisfaction within, turned his mind to what his father was saying.

“I am not so sure I like that,” Salisbury was grumbling.

“That the king made submission to the pope?” Geoffrey   asked uncertainly, aware that he had missed something while his attention was occupied with Joanna.

Salisbury gave his son an indulgent glance. He had seen where Geoffrey’s eyes were fixed as he related his news. Patiently, he started again. “Not that. You know I have always advised John to make peace with the Church, although I could have wishednever mind, it is done, and Pandulf is a most sensible person. He recognizes that restitution must be made slowly, and he is to be the judge in disputed cases. There will be no trouble there. My doubts lie in the scheme John has concocted to put a spoke in Philip’s wheel. He has resigned the kingdom utterly into the pope’s hands, and has done fealty to Innocentor, rather, to Pandulf as Innocent’s legateas vassal ruler of England.”

Geoffrey whistled softly through his teeth. That would certainly put a spoke in Philip’s wheel. If Philip invaded England now, he would be committing an act of deep sacrilege by attacking the pope’s own domain. The move was as clever a piece of chicanery as John had ever plannedexcept for one thing.

“What will this cost?” Geoffrey asked suspiciously.

“A thousand marks a year.”

“That is a tidy sum but perhaps not too high a price to pay for the benefits it will buy,” Geoffrey said slowly.

“For now, I agree, but for the long future I have my doubts. What if the pope should be offended by some prince in Italy? Rightfully, he could call upon John as a vassal to come to his aid.”

“I should hope Innocent would have more sense,” Joanna remarked tartly. “He must know that John’s barons are not docile and would not leave their land to fight Innocent’s wars. What could such an order bring about except to induce the barons to rebel against the king?”

“It is not likely Innocent would call John to Italy to solve a secular problem,” Geoffrey agreed, but absently. “He might call another crusade” His voice trailed away and a frown grew between his brows. Suddenly he said, “But we   do not credit my uncle with the right motives or enough cleverness.” His voice was flat, betraying no bitterness in deference to his father. “I do not believe John fears Philip enough to yield his absolute right. Do you not see what a weapon this will be in the king’s hands in any conflict with his noblemen? To oppose him in anything, will be to defy the pope.”

The sound of Joanna’s little indrawn breath was masked by Salisbury’s hearty and cheerful acknowledgement. Whether he had not previously thought of this result or had wanted Geoffrey to draw the conclusion for himself was not clear. In any case, he abandoned the subject to go on to the next piece of news, which had more immediate implications. Pandulf had left England on May 22 to induce Philip to abandon his plan of invasion. To the papal legate’s urging, Count Ferrand of Flanders had added his own, at last declaring openly that he would not go against the pope’s will and, thus, if Philip persisted would withdraw himself from his alliance with France. Instead of inducing caution, which would be a normal reaction for the king of France, this declaration threw Philip into a violent rage. In turn, he declared Ferrand his enemy. The count of Flanders had barely time to flee Philip’s court and save himself from imprisonment. He had no time to gather forces to resist his erstwhile overlord, and Philip had promptly invaded Flanders, using the army mustered to attack England. On May 25, a messenger had arrived from Ferrand begging John for the help Renaud Dammartin had promised him in the king’s name.

Geoffrey smiled on his father, his eyes lighting. “When do we go?’” he asked.

“Are you ready?” Salisbury counter-questioned.

Joanna thrust the needle she had been using to embroider a glove cuff into the cloth as if it were a dagger aimed at Salisbury’s heart.

“Oh yes,” Geoffrey assured his father. “I am a little stiff still, but I have been riding out and fencing with Tostig this week past.”   Joanna slammed the small embroidery frame down onto the table that held her silks with such force that half the skeins flew into the air and then down onto the floor. Salisbury looked away. Geoffrey smiled at his wife. Joanna bit her lips and walked stiffly out of the hall and up to her own chamber.

“I fear Joanna does not agree with you, my boy,” Salisbury said anxiously. “I do not deny I need you sorely. J have been as a man bereft of his right arm since you were hurt. However, it would be far better for me to continue thus than to have you hurt again or have your wound reopened. I am not sure I trust your word on this. Perhaps I will ask Joanna outright”

“No!” Geoffrey interrupted. “I swear to you I am not misjudging my state. You may look me over yourself and you will see I am well healed. If I had been still unready, Joanna would have spoken out quickly enough. When do we go?”

“Tomorrow morning to make ready and sail with the morning tide the next day,” Salisbury replied still doubtful.

“Good,” Geoffrey exclaimed. “There will be less time for Joanna to fret. Tell me, now she is gone, what is afoot?”

Salisbury began to describe the situation as related to him by William, count of Holland and Renaud Dammartin, who were both already in Portsmouth and would accompany them. While he spoke his worry lessened. Geoffrey would not be leading any battles in this enterprise because Holland and Dammartin would serve in that capacity. Salisbury could keep Geoffrey beside him and be sure that he was well guarded and did not overstrain himself. When their plans were laid, Geoffrey having accepted his father’s suggestion about his battle station without argument because he acknowledged that the other men were more experienced and of higher station, Geoffrey saw Salisbury to bed and went up to join his wife.

Joanna rose from beside the fire where she had been sitting and staring into the flames and began to help him undress without a word.   “I must go,” Geoffrey said softly, “you know I must.”

“I know you are willing, even desirous of going,” Joanna replied coldly. “If we were threatened, I would agree you must go. As we are attacking, I can only believe you wish to go.”

Geoffrey thought that over. There was a good deal of truth in it, of course. He controlled an impulse to grin and said, “When a friend cries for help, it is as necessary to reply as it is to defend oneself.”

“A ‘dear’ friend, indeed, who until a few months ago was our avowed enemy,” Joanna snapped.

“Do not be a fool,” Geoffrey snapped back. “New or old, his trouble came out of defending us. That is an act of true friendship and to it we must respond.”

What Geoffrey said was true, but it did nothing to improve Joanna’s mood. She flopped ill-temperedly down to yank at his cross garters and shoelaces. Since her head was bent, Geoffrey permitted himself to smile. He untied the string of his chausses and Joanna tugged them down, nearly oversetting him as she pulled shoe, loosened cross garter, and chausses leg off his foot all at once without warning. Geoffrey grasped at her to steady himself, but Joanna was also off balance and tipped sideways. By a miracle of contortion, Geoffrey caught the seat of the chair and prevented himself from falling-heavily on his wife. The chair slid away; Joanna cried out with fear that he would hurt himself; they found themselves entangled on the rug before the hearth with fifteen stone of dog astride them anxiously licking first one face and then the other.