Lionheart A Novel - By Sharon Kay Penman Page 0,260

have waited for me at Tancred’s court in safety and comfort. Now . . . now I must worry about you both whilst I also worry about my men and our chances of defeating Saladin.” He smiled, but it held little humor. “There are good reasons, little dove, why men do not usually bring their women with them to war.”

“I cannot deny that those are thoughts I’ve had, too,” she confided. “I would not add to your burdens if I could help it, Richard. But . . . but I am still glad that you brought me with you.”

Leaning over, he kissed her. When he started to rise, though, she caught his hand. “Will you still come to me tonight? Even though we cannot . . . ?”

“I will,” he promised, and kissed her again. She sat up once he’d departed, but she was not yet ready to face the world and she decided to indulge herself for a while longer, safe from the stares and speculations. It was not long, though, before her sister-in-law arrived, and none of Berengaria’s ladies dared to deny her entry.

“I know Richard was here,” Joanna said forthrightly, “but I was not sure how helpful he’d be. Even the bravest of men seem to become unnerved by a woman’s tears.”

Berengaria looked fondly at the other woman, thinking how lucky she was to have Joanna as her friend. “My flux came today,” she said. “It was so late that I’d dared to hope . . . but it was not to be.”

“Berengaria, I am so sorry.” Joanna climbed onto the bed and enfolded her in a hug. “You’d been so happy the past few weeks that I’d suspected as much. You told Richard?” She hoped her brother had been sympathetic to his wife’s needs, but she did have a few misgivings, for she thought men were the unpredictable and impulsive sex, not women, and they could be insensitive at the worst possible times.

“Yes . . . he was very sweet about it.”

Joanna hid a smile, thinking that this was surely the first and only time that anyone had used that word to describe Richard. “I am glad to hear that, dearest.”

“He said he’d rather it does not happen until we are safely back in his domains, that it would be too dangerous. He is right, of course, and it is a great relief to know he does not blame me. It is just that . . . that it means so much, Joanna. Every woman surely wants children, but it is so much more urgent for a queen. What could be worse than to fail to give Richard the heir he needs?”

Joanna said nothing, but Berengaria had become adept by now at reading her sister-in-law’s face. “Oh, Joanna, I am sorry! Can you forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive. I know you did not mean to diminish my loss. My son died, and yes, that is a hurt that will never fully heal. But I’ve had years to come to terms with it, Berengaria. That is part of my past. I am sure that in time Richard will find me a suitable husband—preferably Christian,” she added with a faint smile. “And when that happens, I will have other sons. As will you, my dearest sister. I truly believe that, want you to believe that, too.”

She half expected her sister-in-law to soften the presumption of that prediction with a cautious “God willing.” Berengaria surprised her, though. “I want to believe it, too, Joanna, and I will endeavor to do so. Why should it not happen, after all? How could the Almighty deny a son and heir to the man who will free Jerusalem from the infidels?”

Joanna opened her mouth, shut it again. During one of his last visits to Jaffa, Richard had confided in her about his constant struggles with Hugh of Burgundy and the French, admitting how exhausted and disheartened he was at times, even confessing that he doubted Jerusalem could ever be taken by force, that their only chance of regaining access to the Holy City was by a negotiated settlement with Saladin. He’d told her that he knew that would not go down well with his army, that his men would be bitterly disappointed if they failed to recapture Jerusalem. She wondered now if he realized his own wife would share that bitter disappointment. She briefly considered alerting him, but decided against it, for why add one more worry to the many burdens he