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

back? Davydd, why did you not & fr Tregarnedd?" j, "We rode in last night, would have dispatched a m^ e? morn." t ^"But why are you back so soon? Your father ... he' f Davydd, tell me if"raitfl"He's fine, Mama, truly. He's in the great hall, discussjnAfe «« terms withWill de Braose. All is well, could not be bette Mama. The war is over.""Llewelyn . . . Llewelyn is with Will?" ot ^Davydd nodded. "Have you no questions for me? DO you ' respl|t to hear how we triumphed over the English? We gave them n^ace * harassed them day and night, finally forced them to make t^smanl met with Henry and Hubert de Burgh and they agreed t $ aeitf' Hubert's new castle, to withdraw at once from Ceri, whilst Pav c>f hi to assume the costs of the expedition. That was truly cie /ce altj Mama, for Henry is now grateful to Papa for helping him save rin'reil he's begun to blame de Burgh for the entire debacle." DavynH iestf "Papa can put a fox to shame at times. And the best part c»f (? js |( this. The three thousand marks Papa is to pay Henry_^.t^ amount he is demanding for Will's release!""And Will agreed to this? He is to be freed?" . e re)"Well, there's more to it than that, but I'll let Papa tell yol|' move Come on, let's tell him you're here." When Joanna did n^ou m> Davydd turned back with a quizzical smile. "Mama? A»-e ^ coming?""No, I... I want to change my gown first. I was not exp^r Joanna's voice trailed off in confusion, but Davydd just laug*,^ gun"Mama, you look fine," he insisted, as Glynis chimed i^f, * Joanna that the gown was quite becoming. ' mvv^"But . . . but it's green," Joanna said, very low, and bc^ty* nd Glynis looked at her in surprise.

620"Mama, green is your favorite color!"Joanna said nothing. Green was her favorite and most flattering hue. It was also the symbolic shade of fidelity. Abandoning further protests, she allowedDavydd to lead her into the hall.Davydd was still talking about their campaign, laughing as he told her deBurgh's half-built castle was now known as "Hubert's Folly." But Joanna was no longer listening. Llewelyn and Will were seated together by the open hearth;they seemed surprisingly at ease with one another, were talking with animation, and as she watched, they exchanged smiles. And then they were turning, getting to their feet as she walked toward them.Joanna's mouth was suddenly parched; she sought to shape it into a smile, said as calmly as she could, "Welcome home, Llewelyn." Had they been alone, she would have waited for his rejoinder, taken her cue from that. But with Will's eyes upon her, she felt she had no choice but to step forward, to kissLlewelyn lightly on the mouth. His response told her nothing; even if he was still furious with her, he'd never have been so churlish as to rebuff her in public. His face was impassive; as well as she knew him, she could not read his expression."You look pale," he said. "Have you been ailing?"She shook her head, started visibly when Will chose that moment to interject himself into the conversation. "I'm glad you're back, Madame. I confess it was rather lonely here the past few days, what with both you and the Lady Senena gone." And then, before she could anticipate him, he caught her hand, brought it up to his mouth, with impeccable manners and laughing eyes.Joanna's reaction was instinctive and vehement; she jerked her hand away. They were all staring at her now, Will with poorly concealed amusement, Davydd with surprise, and Llewelyn with a look that brought the blood up into her face, a look of curiosity . . . and conjecture. "Actually, you were right, Llewelyn,"she said unsteadily. "I do not feel well. If you'll excuse me, I think I shall go and lie down." Not waiting, not daring to wait, she turned and walked swiftly from the hall, feeling their eyes upon her all the while.Upon reaching her bedchamber, Joanna dismissed her maids. She'd decided she really would lie down, hoping in that way to avoid a discussion with Llewelyn, should he seek her out. She stripped to her chemise, began to unbraid her hair. But her fingers had become infuriating')' clumsy; she kept dropping hairpins and brush, even a small glass bottle of her favorite scent. Glass was very much a luxury, and this perfume vial was of a particularly delicate design, the handiwork of a Genoan master craftsman. With a cry of dismay, Joanna knelt, began to searc the rushes for the broken shards. But once she'd salvaged the fra&

611merits, she saw the bottle was beyond repair. She stared down at the glass splinters, and suddenly her eyes were brimming over with tears. Sitting on the floor in the middle of her bedchamber, she began to cry.LLEWELYN found himself hesitating before the door, not at all sure what sort of reception he would get. The memory came to him then of another quarrel withJoanna, another occasion when he'd stood before a bedchamber door, reluctant to go in. The memory was very vivid for being more than twenty years old; it had been their first true quarrel, but a memorable reconciliation, leading to the consummation of their marriage. He no longer hesitated, reached for the latch."Joanna?" He was beside her at once, brushing back the cascading dark hair that hid her face. At his touch, she fell forward into his arms, buried her face in his shoulder. Her sobbing was spasmodic, out of control, but he was more alarmed by her violent trembling, like one with the ague. He was baffled to discover that she was clutching several broken pieces of glass; he had to pry her fingers loose before she'd drop them. In all the years of their marriage, he'd never seen her weep like this, as