Lionheart A Novel - By Sharon Kay Penman Page 0,298

most likely around All Saints’ Day, but definitely ere Martinmas.”

Anna had thrown a cushion on the ground and settled herself comfortably at Isabella’s feet. “Have you selected any names for the baby?”

“No, I’ve not had a chance to discuss it with Henri yet. We’ll probably name a daughter Maria, for that would honor both our mothers. If it is a son, I think I’d like to call him Henri.” Isabella raised her chin, meeting the eyes of the other women with a trace of defiance. If any of them thought that unseemly, they were wise enough to hide it. Seeing no disapproval on their faces, she leaned back against the pillows and addressed the issue head-on. “Balian told me the Saracens are scandalized that I would wed Henri whilst carrying Conrad’s baby. One of them asked him, ‘But whose child will it be?’ And my stepfather, bless him, said, ‘It will be the Queen’s child.’ They found that impossible to understand.”

Joanna had come to admire Isabella’s courage and she proved that now by saying emphatically, “Well, we understand and that is all that matters. You did what a queen must always do—put the needs of your kingdom first.” She paused to make sure the other women got the message—that gossip would not be tolerated—for she’d heard several of Berengaria’s handmaidens and even her own Lady Hélène doing just that.

“I agree,” Berengaria said, just as staunchly, her gaze singling out the worst offender, who blushed and averted her eyes.

Isabella was pleased that both queens had spoken out so forcefully, for she’d noticed some tension lately between her own attendants and a few of their ladies-in-waiting, and she suspected careless or malicious chatter was at the heart of it. Her sense of mischief soon asserted itself, though, and she could not resist pointing out the obvious with an impish smile. “I did indeed do what I believed to be my duty. Of course few women would see it as a great hardship to wed the Count of Champagne.”

Midst the laughter that followed, Anna took advantage of the mellow mood. “May I ask a question, Lady Isabella?”

The fact that she’d felt the need to ask warned Isabella that it was likely to be intrusive. “You may ask, Anna. I cannot promise that I will answer.”

“I was wondering . . . Did you ever think of reuniting with your first husband after Conrad was slain?”

She was at once rebuked by Sophia for asking something so personal, but Isabella decided it was best to have it out in the open. “The past is like an impregnable castle perched on a sheer cliff, visible to all for miles around, but impossible to enter. There is no going back, Anna. Nigh on two years ago, the barons and bishops of Outremer made it quite clear that they would never accept Humphrey as king, and nothing has changed since then.”

Anna nodded, satisfied. “Humphrey is good-looking,” she acknowledged, damning him with faint praise. “But Henri is handsome, too, and he is very dashing, as well, almost as brave as Malik Ric. I hope I can find a husband like him.” This last comment was delivered with artless abandon, as if the thought just happened to pop into her head. It was actually calculated to nudge the conversation in the direction she wanted it to go. “I have another question,” she confided, meeting their eyes innocently, “this one for those who’ve been married. Can you tell me what it is like to lie with a man?” Before she could be reprimanded again, she said quickly, “I have the right to know, for I will be wed myself one day, and surely you’d not have me learn from the prattle of servants. I’ve heard the first time is supposed to hurt, but after that? Is it pleasant?”

Joanna was wryly amused when all eyes naturally turned toward her. She did indeed think Anna had a right to know; ignorance posed its own dangers. “Yes, it is pleasant,” she said, adding prudently that it must be enjoyed within the sacrament of marriage.

Anna leaned forward, blue eyes shifting from Joanna to Berengaria to Isabella, then back to Joanna again. “But what does it feel like?”

Joanna found that was not easy to explain. “It is . . . pleasurable,” she said, giving the other women a “help me” look.

Sophia remained conspicuously silent, confirming their suspicions about her years as Isaac’s wife, but Berengaria did her best. “It is an act of great intimacy, Anna. Most