Lionheart A Novel - By Sharon Kay Penman Page 0,146

begin his training as a squire, so he’d not be living in our household. But I will want him to visit, of course, and it gladdens me that you would welcome him, Berenguela.”

“My father is a man of deep faith, and he often spoke to us about the power of Divine Mercy, pointing out that if the Almighty is willing to forgive us our trespasses, how can mortal man do less? He is a great admirer of St Augustine, and one of his favorite quotations is ‘Cum dilectione hominum et odio vitiorum.’ I do not know Latin but I’ve heard him quote it so often that it took root in my memory. He said it meant ‘Love the sinner and hate the sin.’”

Like all of Henry and Eleanor’s sons, Richard had been well grounded in Latin. “The actual translation is ‘With love for mankind and hatred of sins,’ but I’d say that is close enough.” His own favorite quotation from St Augustine was a prayer to “Give me chastity and continence, but do not give it yet.” He suspected, though, that his wife would not find it as amusing as he did. Leaning over again, he gave her a lingering kiss before saying, “This has been a most interesting evening, little dove. But I am supposed to meet again with Isaac in the morn and if I do not get some sleep, I’ll be in no shape to fend off his excuses and lies. Whilst he claimed today that he was willing to accept my terms, I’ll not be surprised if he tries to weasel out of the more onerous ones.”

She thought that was a tactful way to let her know he was done talking for the night. The rhythm of his breathing soon told her that he slept. She was still wide awake, but she did not mind, for she had much to think about. She knew she’d pleased him tonight. That last kiss had been somehow different; in the past they’d either been casual or demanding and passionate. But this one had been tender. Their bed hangings were drawn back as he’d agreed to let his squires sleep elsewhere for a few more days, and the chamber was silvered with moonlight, for they’d left a window open to the mild May air. After such a frightening introduction to Cyprus, she’d never have expected to feel any affection for the island, but she was collecting memories that she’d cherish till the end of her earthly days.

Watching Richard as he slept, she remembered the uncertainty of her journey to Sicily, wondering what manner of man he was, wondering if he would prove kind. She thought she could answer that now; no, he was not. That was as it ought to be, though, for kindness would avail him naught in his battle to save the Holy Land. Yet he was kind to her, at least so far, and she felt grateful to see a side of his nature that no one else did. Her feelings about marrying Richard had been more ambivalent than she’d been willing to admit, even to herself. Refusal was out of the question, for she’d known how much her father and brother had wanted this alliance. Marriage to the King of England was a great honor for Navarre, some of Richard’s luster sure to spill over onto her father’s court. It was an honor for her, too, that he’d chosen her when he could have had any woman he wanted as his queen.

But she’d realized that her life would never be the same, that she would be surrendering to forces utterly beyond her control, and there had been times when she’d feared the unknown future awaiting her, times when she’d felt as if she’d been swept up in an Angevin riptide, carried far from all that was familiar and safe. She’d been determined to do her duty as queen, wife, and mother, determined not to disappoint Richard or shame her father. So far nothing had turned out as she’d expected, though. She’d not envisioned a friend like Joanna or an enemy like Isaac Comnenus. And nothing had prepared her for Richard Coeur de Lion.

Her long hair had caught under her hip and she tugged to free it, wishing she could put it in a night plait. But Richard liked it loose, had wrapped it around his throat during their love-making. In the morning she would ask Mariam for the scented oil. Mariam had hinted that there were