she should guard her speech in Heinrich’s hearing, for if he understood enough French to compose in it, he’d had no need of a translator. What she did not understand was why the other woman was giving her this warning.
She soon had her answer, though. Constance glanced about the hall, saw that they were no longer attracting attention, their conversation too banal to stir suspicions, and lowered her voice, pitching it for Eleanor’s ears alone. “You said that you were traveling to Rome, Madame. Since you’ve come so far, I assume you’ll continue on to see your son in Messina. If I give you a letter for your daughter, will you deliver it to Joanna for me?”
Eleanor did not hesitate, instinctively sure that the other woman was acting for herself, not for Heinrich. “Of course I will. Joanna often mentioned you in her letters, saying you’d done much to ease her loneliness when she arrived in Palermo.”
For the first time, Eleanor saw a genuine smile light Constance’s face. It had a transforming effect, shedding years and cares and calling up the ghost of the carefree young girl she’d once been. “I always thought of Joanna as if she were my flesh-and-blood. Mayhap not a daughter since there were only eleven years between us, but most definitely a little sister. During our stay in Lodi, I would be pleased to share with you stories of Joanna’s girlhood at William’s court.”
“That would give me great pleasure, Lady Constance.” Eleanor proved then that Constance had won her trust by saying with unguarded candor, “Do you know what has befallen my daughter? William’s death was followed by a strange and ominous silence. She did not write and I very much fear it was because she was unable to do so. I’d hoped to learn more in Rome, but I am guessing that your lord husband hears of it as soon as a tree falls in a Sicilian forest.”
“Indeed, he does. You had reason for concern, Madame, for Joanna was ill treated by Tancred. He seized her dower lands and then held her prisoner in Palermo, fearing her popularity with the people and her fondness for me. But she is safe now, has been free since last September. Have you ever heard of a scirocco? It is the name we use for a wind that comes out of the African desert and rages across the sea to Sicily, where it wreaks great havoc. Well, your Richard swept into Messina like a scirocco, and Tancred not only set Joanna at liberty, he soon settled her dower claims, too. I daresay his sudden change of heart had something to do with the fact that Richard had seized control of Messina. It is called negotiating from a position of strength, I believe.”
Eleanor paid Constance a rare compliment, allowing the younger woman to see the vast relief that flooded through her soul. “Thank you,” she said simply, and they exchanged a look of silent understanding, the mutual recognition that women like them, however high of birth and resolute of will, would always be birds with clipped wings, unable to soar in a world ruled by men.
DESPITE THE PRESENCE of a king and two queens, the center of attention soon proved to be the younger son of an Italian marquis. Boniface of Montferrat was a magnet for all eyes, for he was strikingly handsome, with curly fair hair, vivid blue eyes, and the easy smile of a man who well knew the potent appeal of his own charm. He had a reputation for battlefield heroics and reckless gallantry, his exploits often celebrated by the troubadours who frequented his court, and, unlike his German cousin Heinrich, he was outgoing and affable. Fluent in four languages, one of which was the lenga romana of Aquitaine, he and Eleanor were soon chatting like old and intimate friends. He continued to hold sway over the high table during their elaborate meal, flattering Heinrich, flirting with Constance, jesting with Eleanor and Bishop Milo. But when the talk turned to the struggle with the Saracens, he related a story about his brother Conrad that caused an astonished silence to settle over the hall.
For the benefit of those unfamiliar with his family history, he explained that his eldest brother William had been wed to the Lady Sybilla, sister of Baldwin, the Leper King, but he’d died soon afterward, and Sybilla had then made that accursed marriage to Guy de Lusignan, which resulted in the loss of the