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

care to be a witness to their confrontation; he suspected Eleanor's methods would be neither maternal nor merciful.ELEANOR snapped her fingers and the last of the servants disappeared. As John handed her a goblet of mulled wine, she sipped in silence for some moments, then confirmed his worst fears. "I do hope you have not entangled poor Will in your intriguing, John. That would be rather unsporting, like spearing fish in a barrel.""Should I know what that means, Madame?"She leaned back against the settle cushions, eyed him reflectively.Do you have any memories of Gwendolen, John? No, I see not. She was a young Welsh girl, nurse first to your sister Joanna and then to y°u. I liked her, found the Welsh to be much like my own Poitevins, a people passionate yet practical. There was one Welsh proverb in par-

52ticular that Gwendolen was fond of quoting- 'Better a friend at court than gold on the finger.'" She smiled faintly, glanced down at her hands, at the jeweled fingers entwined loosely in her lap. "As you can see, I have gold rings in profusion. But I also have friends at court, John ... at the French court."She waited, but John continued to look at her blankly, with the suggestion of a quizzical smile. "Why is it," he asked, "that I suddenly feel as if I've stumbled into the wrong conversation?""You do that very well, John. Honest bewilderment, with just the right touch of humor. I do not doubt your indignation will be equally impressive. And if you insist, we can play the game out to the end. I'll tell you exactly what my informants at the French court revealed, and you can deny any and all knowledge of Philip's intrigues. I'll confront you with the fact that I know you've coerced the constables of Wallingford, Berkshire, and Windsor to turn over the royal castles to you, and you can then concoct some perfectly innocent explanation for that"But eventually, John, we'll get to the truth. It may well take all night, but we will, that I promise you. So why do you not make it easy on both of us? It has been a very long day. I'm tired, John, am asking you to keep this charade mercifully brief . . . for my sake if not your own."John could not say with which precise word she hit a nerve; it may have been the tone as much as the content. But by the time she stopped speaking, he was rigid with rage. "For your sake? There was a time when I'd have done anything on God's earth for you, just to get you to acknowledge I was even alive! But now? You're too late, Mother, years too late!"There was a sudden silence. John rose, retreated into the sheltering shadows beyond the hearth, but he could not escape her eyes, could feel them following him all the while. What had ever possessed him? Fool1 In lashing out like that, he'd only shown her where his defenses were weakest, most vulnerable to attack."What would you have me say, John?" she said at last. "That you are my flesh and blood, my last-born, that I care, care more than you know? It would be easy enough to say, and I admit I might be tempted ... if I thought you'd believe me.""I would not," he said hastily, and she gave him an unexpected smile, a look of sardonic and surprising approval."Why should you? You were not yet six when Henry confined me in SalisburyTower, sixteen when next I saw you, twenty-one when Richard ordered my release. How could I love you? I do not even know you. You were ever Henry's, never mine."I

53"That's a he," John said bitterly "You never cared for me, never1 Mot from the day I was born You think I do not remember how it was7""You exaggerate," she said, but there was that in her voice which he'd never heard before, a faintly defensive note "Mayhap I did not have you with me as often as I should in those early years, I'll concede that I'll concede, too, that I could take no joy in a pregnancy at fortyfjve Why should I7 I had just found out about Henry and that Clifford slut He'd even dared to install her atWoodstockWoodstock, my favorite manor1" She stopped abruptly, and John saw that she, too, had been goaded into saying that which she'd not meant to share"It is a pretty fiction that mothers must love each child in equal measure a fiction, no more than that There is always a favorite With me, it wasRichard With Henry, it was you ""No," John said, too quickly "I was not his favorite It was rather that I was the only son he had left Have ypu forgotten7 My brothers sided with you "Again, John had the disquieting sense that he'd have done better to hold his tongue Eleanor's eyes were too probing, too knowing Cat's eyes, ever on the alert for movement in the grass, he thought uneasily, not reassured when she shrugged, said, "If that's how you'd rather remember it But I did not mean that as a reproach I do not, in truth, think less of you for having the common sense to abandon a ship once waves began to break over the bow Nor, after sixteen years shut away from the sun, am I likely to find tears to spare forHenry Plantagenet "Without warning, she came abruptly to her feet, crossed swiftly to John "ButRichardthat is another matter altogether, John Did you truly think I'd stand idly by whilst you plotted with Philip to usurp Richard's throne7"When he sought to move away, she caught his arm "Of my children, I have ever loved Richard best, have never made a secret of it My first loyalties are to him, will always be to him But what you do not seem to realize is that they are then given to you You want