briefly.
Berengaria found herself forgotten in the jubilation of the Angevin family reunion, but she didn’t mind. She’d been deeply touched by Joanna’s joy, and slightly envious, too, for she’d have given almost anything to see her own mother again. They’d been talking nonstop during the meal and she was content to listen and to learn, although she did not catch all of their words. She’d spoken the lenga romana with Eleanor and Richard, but apparently Joanna’s grasp of that language had waned during her years in Sicily, and they were conversing in French, at times too rapidly for Berengaria, whose own French was adequate but not yet fully fluent. There was no mistaking their pleasure, though, and after all the stories she’d heard of the Devil’s Brood, it was reassuring to see such obvious family affection. She did not understand how Richard could have hated his own father and brothers, but there could be no doubt that he loved his mother and sister, and she took heart from that.
Richard remembered her from time to time; occasionally he smiled and once he winked. But for most of the meal, he was focused upon his mother, for he and Joanna were competing for Eleanor’s attention. Joanna wanted to talk of family, the one she’d left behind and the one she’d found in Sicily. But Richard was intent upon political matters, and as soon as the last course was done, he shoved his chair back and rose to his feet.
“I need to borrow Maman for a while, irlanda, but I promise to have her back at Bagnara tonight.”
“Richard, no!” Joanna flung her napkin down and jumped to her feet, too. “It has only been nine months since you’ve last seen Maman, but we’ve been separated for nigh on fifteen years!”
Berengaria was astonished that Joanna should dare to challenge Richard like that. She enjoyed a free and easy relationship with her own brother, but Richard seemed much more formidable than Sancho; moreover, she’d not have disputed Sancho in public. Richard showed no signs of anger, though. Leaning down, he kissed his sister on the cheek, saying with a coaxing smile, “I know how much you’ve missed Maman. However, it cannot be helped. We’ve got to talk about the news from Rome.”
Joanna was not won over and continued to argue until Eleanor intervened, saying she’d make sure that Richard brought her back from Messina by Vespers. Watching wide-eyed, Berengaria found herself hoping that Richard would not forget to bid her farewell, for it was obvious to her that his mind was very much on that “news from Rome.” Her worry was needless, for he took the time to kiss her hand and to tell Joanna to look after her before he escorted his mother from the hall.
Berengaria had assumed that she and Richard would spend their first day together. Glancing toward Joanna, she saw that the other woman was frowning and she wondered if Richard’s sister found this as awkward as she did. While Joanna had welcomed her warmly, they were still strangers, after all. Richard had mentioned casually that Joanna would be accompanying them to the Holy Land, and Berengaria wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She found Joanna somewhat intimidating, for she was extremely beautiful and worldly and self-confident, all the things that Berengaria knew she herself was not.
“Did you ever want to throttle your brother, Berengaria?” Joanna made a wry face. “I ought to have known he’d pull a sneaky trick like this, for he has not enough patience to fill a thimble.”
“Is he always so . . . so sudden?” Berengaria asked, and Joanna grinned.
“All the males in my family are like that. My father was the worst of the lot, unable to be still even during Mass. At least Richard can get through Prime or Vespers without squirming. But once he gets an idea into his head, he wants to act upon it straightaway.”
Berengaria was disarmed by Joanna’s easy bantering and ventured to confide, “Things seem to happen so fast with him. That will take getting used to, I think.”
“You’ll have to,” Joanna said, “for he’s not likely to slow down. I’d say the secret of marriage to Richard is just to hold on tight and enjoy the ride!”
Berengaria flushed, for as innocent as she was, she still could recognize a double entendre when she heard one. As she met Joanna’s eyes, she saw in them amusement and a glint of mischief. But she saw, too, genuine friendliness and,