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

'< for one, would not want" He stopped suddenly, having remembered too late to whom he was speaking.Joanna had gone very white; her eyes suddenly seemed enormous/

239j rjc they were almost black. "Do not say that," she pleaded. "That must never happen."Cursing himself for his clumsiness, Hugh made haste to repair the age done. "Indeed it will not, Lady Joanna," he said soothingly."When I am tired, my tongue tends to outrun my brain; such talk means thing- Your husband and father are more than allies of the moment;are the living link that binds them together."Joanna nodded; color slowly began to come back into her face. Hugh gave her shoulder a reassuring pat, wondering for whom she feared, John or Llewelyn.As eagerly as she awaited Llewelyn's return, Joanna felt some anxiety, too, remembering her father's rages, his dark, moody silences. But however violentLlewelyn's initial reaction might have been, he had his temper well in hand by the time he got back to Aber, made no mention whatsoever of his Corbet kin.Joanna began to wonder if she had misjudged him; she'd been so sure he would take the marriage as a mortal affront. She had to know, at last asked him point-blank how he felt about it.He looked at her with a faint smile. "My cousin torn has ever been one for grazing on both sides of the hedge. That is his misfortune." And Joanna saw that she had not misjudged him at all.IT was a mild October afternoon four days after their arrival at Rhosyr.Joanna was in no hurry to reach Tregarnedd, had covered the eight miles at a leisurely pace. She only hoped the Lady Catrin spoke some French. On the other hand, if she did not, that would be as good an excuse as any to cut the visit short. At least it was a delightful day for a ride. And she would confess to some curiosity about the woman Rhys had married, wondered if Catrin would be a mirror image of her handsome husband.Tregarnedd was an agreeable surprise; it was much like a village, for tdnyved had a manor here, too, and, as in England, there were people who preferred to dwell, for safety's sake, in the shadow of a lord. But e real surprise waited within, a smile of welcome upon her face.I am Lady Catherine, Madame. How good of you to come to me e this; in truth, you honor our house. I've so longed to meet you. For e hrst time in my life, I did regret that I know not how to write. OfUrse, I could have dictated a letter to our chaplain, but. . ."Joanna stared at the other woman, astonished. It was not Cather-s appearance that so startled her, although she was not the ravishing

220beauty Joanna had been expecting. She was a buxom, pretty worna with fair, creamy skin, thick golden lashes, and hair so blonde it w almost white. It was her speech, however, that riveted Joanna's eve upon her; her French was not only fluent, it was colloquial."You are Norman!" Joanna blurted out, and then blushed. But Catherine merely laughed."Indeed. Did Rhys not tell you? Ah, that man!"On reflection, Joanna realized there was no reason for such surprise.Intermarriages were not that uncommon, after all; the Corbets were not the only Marcher border lords to see the advantages in a Welsh connection. It was just that Rhys, so proudly, defiantly Welsh, seemed the last man to choose aNorman wife.As if reading her thoughts, Catherine said, "I know no people who value bloodlines as do the Welsh. But they have never balked at accepting foreign wives, for a woman takes on her husband's nationality, and any children of such a union have full rights under Welsh law. It becomes rather more complicated when a Welshwoman does wed with an alltud ... a man of foreign blood. But I expect Llewelyn has explained all this to you . . ."Ushering Joanna into the great hall, she at once sent for wine and wafers, settled Joanna in the seat of honor by the hearth, and beckoned a nurse forward to show Joanna a small, dark-haired infant swaddled in folds of soft linen."My daughter Gwenifer. Rhys always does hope the girls will have my coloring, and always in vain. This is the fifth time I've been brought to childbed, and each one has hair black as sin."Joanna laughed. She'd all but forgotten how wonderful it was just to sit and talk, to make inconsequential, easy conversation. She had, of necessity, learned to tune out the disgruntled Blanche's litany of cornplaints, and her encounters with Llewelyn were so fraught with sexual tension that she could take little pleasure in them."Now ... do tell me how you like Wales. Llewelyn is well? I must confess thatI'm half in love with him, do not know a woman who is not, in truth! My husband may turn all female heads, but yours is the one they'd run off with if. . ." Her words trailed off, for Joanna's color had deepened, dark patches showing high on her cheekbones. Catherine realized she had trod amiss, but she was puzzled as to how. Surely the girl knew she was but joking? Unless . . .unless she knew about Cristyn? Catherine was now the one to be embarrassed, sought hastily for safer subject matter."Should you like, my lady, to hold Gwenifer? You do know, I'111 sure, that you have all our heartfelt prayers that you may soon have a babe of your own. It must weary you, in truth, to have the women ever

221suring your waistline, whispering if you so much as miss a meal!111 jt is always so with newly wedded wives, and when your husband is Our lordPrince..."Joanna came to her feet so abruptly that she knocked her wine cup to the floor. Would she never learn? This woman was even more mali-OUS than Maude de Braose and Gwenllian, for they at least had pre-nded no friendliness. But Catherine drew