Here Be Dragons - 1 by Sharon Penman (best inspirational books txt) 📕

without love. My mother had too sharp a tongue, and then, too, my father blamed her for failing to give him a son ... Well, the reasons count for naught. What does is that he did not use her well, Madame, made of her life a Hell on earth. A man can do that, my lady, can treat his wife no better than the meanest serf, and who is to gainsay him? She is his, after all, to be lessoned as he chooses. And in this we all are sisters. High birth did not spare Philip's Danish-born Queen Nor your grandmother, Queen Eleanor of blessed memory. And your husband is a Prince, is a man to expect obedience above all else. I was astonished, in truth, that he did not take his hand to you, but you're not likely to be so lucky a second time. Go to him, tell him you're sorry. Would you have him hate you for all your married life?""No," Joanna said. "Oh, no!" And before she could repent of her resolve, she snatched up her mantle, ran from the chamber.The bailey was now astir with people; they turned^to stare as Joanna passed.There was no one at all, however, in Llewelyn's outer chamber. Joanna leaned for a moment against the door, sought to catch her weath. She'd not yet thought what she was going to say to him, knew that if she dwelt upon it, she'd lose her nerve. Tapping lightly on the d°or, she said, "Llewelyn, it'sJoanna. May we talk?"She heard footsteps, and then the door swung open. Joanna stiffe"ed at sight of Cristyn. She'd not dreamed Cristyn would still be ere; surely, if the woman had any decency at all, she'd have within at once. Yet Cristyn had not even bothered to dress, was clad y in a linen chemise. This was the first real lookJoanna had gotten at

244her husband's mistress. She saw before her a tall, poised woman in he mid-twenties, with rather unusual and striking coloring. Cristyn had very white skin, masses of dark gold hair, and brown eyes. She was not beautiful;her mouth was too large, her nose too tip-tilted, but there was about her an unstudied sensuality, a provocative earthiness more allur. ing than mere prettmess. Joanna could understand all too well the appeal Cristyn might have for a man, for Llewelyn.For a heartbeat they stared at each other, and then Cristyn said, m passableFrench, "Llewelyn is not here. He was to meet this morn in Bangor with BishopRobert and the Bishop of St Asaph, rode out directly after he did talk to you."Turning away, she moved back toward the bed. "You will excuse me whilst Ifinish dressing?" she said, reaching for her stockings."I do not recall giving you leave to sit in my presence," Joanna snapped, saw a resentful flush rise in Cristyn's face and throat. She came reluctantly to her feet, making it quite clear that she thought Joanna was not playing fair.Joanna did not care; fairness was the furthest concern from her mind. If she'd thought her command would have been obeyed, she'd have banished Cristyn then and there into English exile, even unto Ireland if she could.Cristyn was waiting, brown eyes suddenly wary. "Madame?" she said icily, andJoanna felt so much hatred that it frightened her. She stared past Cristyn at the bed; it was still unmade, rumpled and warm where they had lain, Llewelyn and Cristyn, making leisurely love through the night. Whirling about, Joanna crossed the threshold, beckoned to one of the men loitering without. "Madame?""Take that bed out into the bailey, and there burn it," she said, saw the man's jaw drop."Jesii, Madame, I cannot do that! It is my lord's bed, is worth""And I am your lord's wife, am I not? I have just given you a cornmand, so see to itnow."Cristyn had followed Joanna to the doorway of the antechamber; she, too, looked dumbfounded. The man's eyes flicked from her to Joanna, and then he nodded. It took four men to wrestle the mattress out into the bailey; cursing and panting, they dragged it a safe distance from the building. By now a large, curious crowd had gathered. Someone brought forth a torch; there were loud murmurings among the onlookers as the bed coverings ignited, burst into flame.Joanna stood motionless, watching as the bed burned. After a time the wind shifted, blew smoke into her face, and she coughed, turned away.

245"What of the bedframe, my lady? Shall we torch that, too?" The OJce was young, the face friendly, lit by an engaging grin."No," Joanna said, startled to see that most of the other faces were ndly/too- She'd not expected that. They were watching her with uised interest, even approval, seemed to take her action as a great ke To Joanna, it was anything but that. She was just beginning to alize what she'd done. She must have been mad, in truth, for LleweIvn would never forgive her now, never.ALTHOUGH Alison had managed to infect Joanna for a time with her panic, it soon passed. Llewelyn wanted an alliance with her father, would do nothing to jeopardize it. He'd not send her back to England in disgrace. Nor would he ever abuse her as Philip abused Ingeborg. She felt sure that was notLlewelyn's way.He might well beat her for burning the bed, though. Even the most indulgent husband was likely to react with rage to folly of that sort. Each time Joanna thought of facing him with such a sin on her conscience, she shivered. She'd once seen a knight strike his wife in the great hall at Westminster, before a score of wellborn witnesses; blood had gushed from the woman's nose, stained her gown and wimple. And while the man's action had been greeted with almost universal disapproval, it was not his brutality that earned him such scorn, but rather that he'd been so ill-mannered as to punish her in public. Even men who never hit their wives would still, Joanna