Isaac’s large copper bathing tub, it was full dark. Wrapped in bedrobes, Joanna and Berengaria towel-dried and brushed out each other’s hair, the easy familiarity reminding them both of their childhood and sisters they might never see again. It was Berengaria who gave voice to their shared nostalgia, confiding, “I do not think I could have endured this voyage without you, Joanna.”
“You do not give yourself enough credit, for you are stronger than you think.” Joanna could not help adding, then, with a rueful smile, “If you’d known what lay ahead, I daresay you’d have run for the nearest nunnery when your father broached the matter of marriage with my brother. And who could blame you?”
Berengaria wondered if she’d ever get used to Angevin candor. Richard and Joanna were constantly saying aloud what other people did not even dare to whisper. There had indeed been times when she’d yearned for her tranquil, lost world of Navarre, not sure if a crown was truly worth so much misery. “I admit I did not bargain on an Isaac Comnenus. But till the day I draw my last breath, I will remember the sight of Richard’s galley against that sunset sky, like the champion in a minstrel’s chanson. What woman would not be proud to have such a man for her husband?”
She’d inadvertently touched upon a tender spot. As she’d grown into womanhood, Joanna had done her best to deny her qualms about a husband who sent other men out to die without ever putting himself at risk. But Richard’s flashy heroics had done much to tarnish William’s memory, casting a sad shadow over her marriage, reminding her that her father had always led his troops into battle, as had her brothers. Even Philippe did so. Only William had stayed at home, William who’d yoked Constance to a hateful husband so he could pursue his foolish dreams of destiny, willing to spill any blood but his own to lay claim to Constantinople. She lowered her head, hiding the tears that suddenly burned her eyes. Was that all her life in Sicily had amounted to—a husband she could not respect and a son whose tiny tomb she might never see again?
Berengaria sensed that something was wrong. She was not sure what to do, though, for she was developing with Joanna something she’d never had before—a friendship between equals—and she fretted that questions borne of empathy might be taken as intrusive. She was not given the chance to make up her mind, for at that moment Richard made one of his typical entrances, unexpected and unannounced.
Joanna’s ladies were amused by his brash invasion of the women’s quarters; Berengaria’s were horrified. Midst laughter and shrieks, they retreated into the inner sanctum, the bedchamber set aside for their mistresses. Joanna was already on her feet. She was about to embrace him when she realized that he was still wearing his hauberk. Her eyes drawn irresistibly to the dried blood caked on some of the iron links, she said, as calmly as she could, “I trust none of that is yours?”
“From a skirmish like that? I’ve not so much as a scratch.” Putting his hands on her shoulders, he gazed down intently into her face. “Well, at least you are not as pale as yesterday. You gave me quite a scare, you know.”
“I gave you a scare? How do you think we felt, Richard, watching you take on all of Isaac’s army by yourself?”
“I knew my men would follow,” he said, dismissing the danger with a negligent gesture. “And I knew, too, that Isaac’s men were likely to be ill-trained, poorly paid, and not eager to die on his behalf.”
Joanna was not won over by that argument and was about to remind him that it would have taken only one well-aimed arrow. But he was already turning his attention toward his betrothed.
While he’d been greeting Joanna, Berengaria had belted her bedrobe. Remembering then that her hair was tumbling down her back, she looked around hastily for her veil. When she would have snatched it up, Richard reached out and caught her hand. “Do not cover your hair, Berenguela. I like it loose like this.”
Berengaria let the veil flutter to the floor at her feet. She knew it was not seemly that he should see her like this until they were wed. But as their eyes met, she realized that if he meant to share her bed this night, it would not be easy to deny him. Moreover, she