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Authors: Roberta Gellis

Tags: #Romance, #Historical

Joanna (2 page)

BOOK: Joanna
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Stubbornly, Joanna shook her head. “I cannot choose. I have said, and I say again, that I am willing to marry any man you name to me.” Suddenly her expression lightened. “Your reinforcements are here.”

Alinor turned her head toward the doorway. She did not speak but her eyes lit and her color rose a little. Her husband hesitated in the doorway, his intense brown eyes looking from mother to daughter. It would not have been surprising if Joanna had refused to marry because no man she had seen could measure up to her stepfather. Alinor said often that Ian had the face of a black angel, and God had seen fit to preserve his dark masculine beauty. His battle scars were all on his body. Perhaps Ian’s looks had made Joanna’s friends pale in comparison, but it was useless to worry about that. Simply there was no one available to match Ian for looks, and there might never be.

“Well,” he said when neither woman spoke, “what have you decided?”

Alinor shrugged. Joanna said, “I will be obedient to your will, my lord. I will marry any man you and my mother decide is fitting.”

Instead of looking satisfied, Ian looked appalled. “My love,” he said gently, “we will not force you. I will sooner stay and”

“No, no.” Joanna protested, getting up and going over to him. “I am not unwilling, really I am not. I know it is time, and past time, for me to be married.”

Ian put his arm around Joanna and drew her close. Over her head he looked doubtfully at his wife.

“She does not fancy any man she knows,” Alinor remarked neutrally, as if a husband was a dish laid on the table.

“We have been too sudden,” Ian said. “There is time enough. Do you think again, love”

Alinor cast an exasperated and affectionate glance at her husband. One would think he had not a bone in his body and   his blood was milk and water when he had to deal with Adam and Joanna. And it was not only because they were Simon’s children. He was just as bad with little Simon, his own son. He could never bear to see any of them sad, even when the sadness was their own fault.

“One does not need to think about such things,” she said sharply. “Either one desires a man or one does not. If Joanna has no preference, it is better for us to choose.”

The first reaction Ian had to that was surprise. Years before, he had suggested contracting Joanna in marriage when he had received a most favorable offer for her. At that time, Alinor had flatly refused, insistingin defiance of all reason and proprietythat Joanna must choose for herself. It was not like Alinor to do an about-face in such matters. Then Ian’s arm tightened protectively around his stepdaughter, and a wary look came into his eyes. When Alinor was angry, she could be very severe with her children. Ian often found himself pleading their cause. Sometimes he saved them a whipping, sometimes he did not, but this was not a matter so easily healed as a few wheals. Still, Alinor did not look angry. Her eyes were meeting his purposefully, but there were no sparks of rage in them; she was trying to tell him something.

“Joanna, my love, is this really what you desire?” Ian pleaded. “Do not let your mother frighten you. There is time enough to think, and if you do not wish to marrywell, I will find another way to settle the matter of the men. My troubles must not come upon you. They will be easily overcome by some other device.”

When Ian started to speak, Alinor had opened her mouth to protest, but she shut it again. Nothing could better draw an opinion from Joanna, if she had one concealed, than Ian’s offer to sacrifice himselfnot, of course, that he thought of it as a sacrifice. He would regard it as a welcome excuse to stand his ground. Ian was not inclined to back away from trouble. The retreat to Ireland had been Alinor’s idea and at first scornfully rejected by him. It had been adopted only after the earl of Pembroke had written to say   that Ian’s presence was really necessary to him in Ireland and the earl of Salisbury had pleaded, almost in tears, that he should leave England. Joanna, however, would believe that Ian was endangering himself to gratify her whim.

“You do not understand,” Joanna replied firmly, gently freeing herself so that she could look up at her stepfather. “It will be a great relief to me to have the matter settled. I
have
thought of marriage. Every girl who does not wish to give herself to God must do so. I just do not prefer any particular man. I trust you and mother to choose well for me, and I will be a good and faithful wifeI swear it.”

That was settled, Alinor thought. If Joanna could have named someone, she would have done so to ease Ian’s heart. “Then we come to the meat of the matter. Sit down, Ian. And you too, Joanna, take a stool.” When the girl was settled, Alinor said to her seriously, “It is your whole life, child. I beg you, if you have the smallest, faintest doubt, that you speak out at once. Perhaps you have guessed that Ian and I do have a preference for your husband. Nonetheless, there are many other men, equally suitable. If you feel a shadow of distasteno matter how vague, no matter how foolish it seems to youtell me at once. Above all and beyond allimmeasurably above and beyond allI desire that you be content. Now I say this. More grief can come upon me, and upon Ian too, by your unhappiness than by anything else.”

“I will try to be honest, but mama”

“You do not need to answer now,” Ian suggested. “Let us suggest a few”

“No,” Alinor objected, “to name more than one would make the problem worse. But Ian is right on the other matter. You do not have to answer now. We will suggest one man. You may refuse outright. If you have a doubt as to your ability to share a whole life with him, do so. You may accept outright. Or you may think it over and tell me later, or tomorrow. Remember, there are others. That we name Lord Geoffrey Fitz William to you now does not mean there is any need for you to take him.”   The name was slipped in very naturally. Alinor had been holding her daughter’s eyes steadily all the while so that there was no need to seek to catch her expression. In fact, there was no change in her face. Perhaps a fleeting emotion flickered in her eyesrelief?but it was so brief that Alinor could not really read it. Joanna said nothing and a silence fell, broken after a moment by the sound of Ian shifting uneasily in his chair. Alinor turned toward her husband. When her eyes came back to Joanna, the girl was looking at Brian. The dog lifted his head, then rose and came to his mistress. Joanna braced herself. Brian sat, with a thump that shook even the solid hardwood floor, and then leaned heavily against Joanna. The stool began to tilt. Joanna hastily moved her feet to brace herself better. Alinor smiled. Geoffrey had brought the puppy that grew into Brian from Ireland where he had been serving as Ian’s squire. Called back to action, he had given the still-blind, gangling, emaciated creature to Joanna.

“Now Joanna,” Ian went on. “It is true that we all love Geoffrey, but if you feelif perhaps you think”

“Tush!” Alinor exclaimed impatiently. Men were always accused of coarseness because they cursed and spat and pissed in odd places, but they really were afflicted with the silliest delicacy of mind. “What Ian wants to know, Joanna, is whether you will feel as if you are bedding your brother when it comes to coupling with Geoffrey.”

“Alinor!”

“Well, that is what you meant, is it not?”

Instead of replying, Ian rose and walked to the window in the antechamber, where he stood staring out at the walls and, beyond them, to the little whitecaps that showed on the swells of the sea. Joanna and Alinor looked at each other with identical expressions of amusement, each biting her lips to restrain giggles. Each knew that it was not especially the mention of incest that troubled Ian but the idea of Joanna’s mating. His reaction was fortunate, however, in that it broke the tension.

“Well, Joanna?” Alinor insisted, but she was smiling.   “No,” Joanna replied, “I do not feel that.”

“Think about coupling with him, child,” Alinor urged. “Is there anything distressing to you in that idea? Think about children that look and speak and move like Geoffrey. Would you prefer your children to be different? Like unto someone else?”

It was a great relief to Alinor to see the expression of interest on Joanna’s face. Obviously her daughter had never considered Geoffrey in the light of lover and husband. That was reasonable. For a girl to allow such thoughts about her father’s squire to get into her head was dangerous and might lead to great unhappiness. Joanna was too practical to fall into such a mistake. Alinor, far more headstrong than her daughter, had not taken that into consideration enough, she realized now. Fortunately, it was equally obvious that there was nothing displeasing to Joanna in the notion. Now, if only the girl did not come to realize that thinking about such things would swiftly lead her down the path to love. Alinor rose and shook out her skirts.

“When you have decided, come and tell me. Whatever you say, we will accept. If you refuse, we have another equally worthy to suggest.”

“I do not need more time, mother,” Joanna said. “I am willing, if”

“If what, love?” Ian asked from the doorway.

“If Geoffrey is willing,” Joanna said simply.

Color flooded into Ian’s swarthy face, turning it dark red. “What do you mean, if Geoffrey is willing?” he roared. “We are offering him a pearl without price. Where could he find your match for beauty and virtue”

“And lands,” Alinor put in, but she was laughing merrily and Joanna was also. Ian always overreacted to the faintest slur cast upon his stepchildren.

“But Ian,” Joanna protested, seeing he was still angry, “Geoffrey might think of me as a sister. That would be terrible.” Then her eyes widened. “Oh, Ian, Lord Salisbury would not force Geoffrey, would he?”

“Do not be silly, Joanna,” Alinor said sharply. That was one idea she wished to avoid above all. Joanna might well   return love, but she would not proffer it. “You know William dotes upon Geoffrey, the more because he was born a bastard. You remember that, do you not? You have considered it?”

“What is there to consider in that?” Joanna asked.

“Geoffrey is dear to Salisbury and because of him is often at court. If you marry Geoffrey, you will spend much time there also. Jealousy is rife at court. More than one woman will taunt you that you had to marry a bastard, however near to the throne.”

“Not more than one,” Joanna said, and her eyes grew brighter and harder.

Alinor stared at her strong-willed daughter. A slow smile grew on her lips. Ian guffawed. Nonetheless, he said warningly, “You are not to raise your hand, your whip, or your knife to the queen’s ladies, Joanna.”

Joanna said nothing, but her eyes were light and shining and met Ian’s challengingly.

He rubbed the back of his neck, as a man with a puzzle would, and then shook his head. “You must understand, my love, that much of the spite will come from places you cannot reach. It is no sense to punish the servants for the faults of the masters. The one man in the world the king loves is William of Salisbury, his half brother. Because of that, he hates Geoffrey.”

“Is he mad?” Joanna asked amazedly.

“Oh no, merely greedy and jealous,” Alinor remarked. “John must eat the world. He must have all, everything. Thus, it is hateful to him that William also has room in his heart to love his own son.”

“But that
is
mad,” Joanna insisted. “It is as if I should hate Adam or Simon because you love them.”

“You have a sweet nature, heartling. You are willing to share what can be shared,” Ian praised.

“Oh no,” Joanna protested. “I will not share a jot of the love that is mine. For each of us, for Adam, for Simon, and for me, you have a different love, whole and complete, because we are different. When you look on Adam, you look on Adam and listen to Adam and think of Adam. You do not   think with half your mind of me or of Simon. You did not love me more before Simon was born.”

“Of course not!” Ian exclaimed.

“Nor will you love me less if another daughter is born.”

“You are quite right, Joanna,” Alinor assured her, “but jealousy is not reasonableI know. You cannot argue about such matters. They simply are. The king hates Geoffreymad or not, he doesbut he cannot do him any hurt because he is not really mad. John knows that to harm Geoffrey is to lose William. It came near to that once, and the matter was made clear. Nonetheless, the king cannot resist hurting Geoffrey in ways that do not show on the body and that Geoffrey dares not admit to his father.”

“Because he fears the king?” Joanna’s voice was neutral, but Alinor heard the danger signal. Joanna might talk of fearing pain because her husband would do his duty, but she would have nothing but contempt for a fearful man.

“No! Because Geoffrey is tender of his father. He knows William holds himself guilty for his son’s bastardy. Can Geoffrey complain that he is insulted for bastardy without driving a knife into his father’s heart? He must endure in silence or take such revenge as he can.”

That made Ian laugh. “I assure you the
men
of the court watch their tongues. Geoffrey has taught lessons to a few for speaking too freely. One, at least, speaks no more at all. He is dead. There is nothing Geoffrey can do about the tongues of the women, however.”

“He may leave that in my hands,” Joanna said quietly and flatly.

Alinor drew breath at the threat communicated by the flat voice. She shook her head. “Well, Joanna, if you are sure that Geoffrey will suit you and you have no special conditions that you would like to make, the matter is settled.”

“I am sure, at least, that I have no objection to Geoffrey,” Joanna said tentatively. “As for conditions,” she added far more certainly, “I know the disposition of the lands. They are yours, then mine and my sisters’if I should be blessed with sistersbut what is given to me is mine, to be disposed of as I see fit.”   Ian whistled softly between his teeth. There was plenty of Alinor under the outward resemblance of Joanna to her father. If Simon had had a good horse and good armor, he would have given away the bread out of his mouth without knowing or caring whether there was any more to be eaten. Alinor, much as Ian loved her, was a different kind. She was not ungenerous, but she had an inordinate sense of possession. She counted the grains in every head of every stalk of wheat that grew on her land and demanded an account if even one grain should be missing. She might easily give you a bushel or a wagonload, but no one could steal or take by force even a single grain. Under her stewardship, her estate had grown, but it was care and attention that increased it. She did not squeeze or oppress her people. She merely made it very clear that the best was expected of them and, with justice and often even kindness, she got the best from them. Joanna had been trained from the cradle, and it was apparent she would be a worthy successor to her mother.

BOOK: Joanna
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