must be made first, and of course that is impossible. King Richard was sorely disappointed, for he very much wanted to judge the sultan for himself.”
Berengaria glanced over at her husband, who was sprawled on cushions, studying a map of Outremer. Feeling guilty for imposing her petty concerns upon a man who bore the burdens of a holy war upon his shoulders, she stopped in front of him, saying with a smile, “I can see this is not a good time for a visit, my lord husband, so we’ll not tarry.” She hesitated, then, for such boldness did not come easily to her. But according to what Joanna had told her, she was at her most fertile now that her flux was past, and she was sure Richard was as eager as she to beget a child. “Will you . . . will you be coming to me tonight?”
He glanced up, his grey eyes appearing so dark and opaque that she felt as if she were gazing upon a stranger. “No,” he said, “I think not,” and turned back to the map.
Berengaria felt as if she’d been slapped. Mortified, she called to her attendants, not daring to look around for fear that she’d see pity on the faces of those close enough to have heard his rebuff. Actually, few had heard their low-voiced exchange. But one who did was enraged. “You go on, dearest,” Joanna said. “I’ll follow shortly.”
Berengaria’s ladies complied at once. Joanna’s women were reluctant to leave, enjoying their verbal sparring with Richard’s knights. But after looking at their mistress’s glittering green eyes, they hastened to obey, too. Only Anna balked and she was quickly nudged toward the tent’s entrance by her stepmother and Mariam. Joanna waited until they’d departed, pondering her next move. She could ask to speak to Richard in private, behind one of the screens. But what if he refused?
“Get the men’s attention for me, Morgan,” she said. Giving her a curious look, he did so, very effectively, by banging upon a drum. Once she was sure all eyes were upon her, Joanna gave them her most engaging smile. “I am sorry to evict you, gentlemen. But I need to speak alone with my lord brother, the king.”
There were at least fifty knights and lords present, and few of them looked happy at being so abruptly dismissed. Richard’s head had come up sharply; for a moment, Joanna feared that he’d countermand her. Whatever he saw in her face changed his mind, though. Getting to his feet as the men exited, he strode toward Joanna, towering over her and obviously angry.
She was not in the least intimidated. “How dare you treat that sweet girl like one of your camp whores?” she spat, even in her fury remembering to keep her voice pitched for his ears alone.
He seemed taken aback by her vehemence. His own temper still smoldered, though, and he said testily, “I do not know what you are talking about, Joanna. Nor do I have time for this.”
“You need not have time for me, Richard. But you owe it to your wife to make time for her. She’s not seen you in days! Do you know what it cost her to come to you like this? And then you dismissed her as if she—”
“If I wanted a woman tonight, I’d only have to snap my fingers. But I have more important matters on my mind.”
“Oh, yes, that is what men always say. Your ‘matters’ are so much more consequential than any womanly concerns. I know what you are about to tell me, that you cannot be expected to pay heed to a wife in the midst of a war. But why is she in the midst of it, Richard? Because you put her there!”
Richard was unaccustomed to being called to account and he did not like it in the least. “I had no choice, given the circumstances!”
“You most certainly did! We left Messina on Wednesday in Holy Week. Are you telling me you could not have waited four more days to sail? You could have married Berengaria on Easter, then sent her back to your domains under a safe escort, as you did for Maman. Instead, you chose to take her with you. There are only two explanations for doing so—that you were too besotted with your betrothed to want to be separated from her or that you were keen to get her with child as soon as possible. I think we can safely say