Lionheart A Novel - By Sharon Kay Penman Page 0,12

up this latest squabble, too, as they’d done in the past, and she continued to lay plans for their arrival, for she wanted their welcome to be truly spectacular. She wanted to show them that they’d made the right decision in wedding her to William.

She’d even entertained the notion of accompanying them to the Holy Land. Her mother had done so while wed to the French king Louis, had risked her life and reputation by taking part in a crusade that was an abysmal failure, one that eventually led to the end of her marriage to Louis and remarriage to Joanna’s father. Joanna would gladly have followed in her mother’s footsteps, for it would be the experience of a lifetime. But she could not be sure that William meant to join the crusaders. He’d been very generous in the help he offered. Would he actually leave Sicily, though? He never had done so in the past. He’d launched military expeditions to Egypt, North Africa, Greece, and Spain, but not once had he taken a personal role in one of his campaigns. And this was Joanna’s secret fear, one she could not even acknowledge to herself, that William would again stay safely at home while he sent men out to die in his name.

His harim and faulty political judgment were minor matters compared to this dark shadow. Theirs was a world in which a king was expected to lead his men into war. Her father had done so since the age of sixteen. So had all her brothers and her mother’s male relatives. Even Philippe Capet, the French king, who had a known distaste for war, still commanded his own armies. So had William’s grandfather and his father. Joanna could think of no other ruler in Christendom who’d never bloodied his sword in combat. Only William.

Joanna had not allowed herself to venture any farther along this dangerous road. She was by nature both an optimist and a realist, believed in making the best of what she had rather than yearning for what might have been. She could be happy with William even if she did not love him. But she did not think she could find contentment in marriage to a man she did not respect, and so she kept that door tightly shut and barred. Of course William would accompany her father and brother to the Holy Land. He’d been deeply grieved by Jerusalem’s fall, had withdrawn for days to mourn its loss, even donning sackcloth. It was true he’d not yet taken the cross himself, but surely he would do so when the time came. She firmly believed that. She had to believe that.

She finally fell asleep, but her rest was not a peaceful one, for she was awakened several times by her husband’s tossing and turning. They both slept later than usual in consequence, and when Joanna opened her eyes, the chamber was filled with light. William was stirring, too. His hair had tumbled onto his forehead, giving him a youthful, disheveled look that she found very appealing. He still retained his summer tan, his skin bronzed wherever it had been exposed to the hot Sicilian sun, and as he started to sit up, she found herself watching the play of muscles across his chest. She could feel her body warming to desire, thinking that she was indeed lucky compared to those countless wives who shared their beds with men potbellied, balding, and foul-smelling. William had an eastern appreciation for bathing and she enjoyed breathing in the clean, seductive smell of male sweat.

“God’s Blessings upon you, O Musta’z,” she murmured throatily, playfully using one of his Arabic titles, which they’d turned into a private joke, for it meant “The Glorious One.” Sliding over, she nestled against his body, trailing her hand across his stomach to let him know her intentions were erotic, not merely affectionate.

His response stunned her. “Do not do that!” he snapped, pushing her hand away. Sitting up, he grimaced and then glanced over, saw the stricken look on her face. “Ah, Joanna . . . I am sorry, darling,” he said quickly. “I did not mean to growl at you like that. But that ache in my belly has gotten much worse since yesterday and even your light touch caused pain.”

Joanna had never known anyone as concerned with his health as her husband. He insisted that his physicians live in the palace and when he heard of the new arrival of a doctor of renown,