“When the contract is written, you will see it. If you find fault, it will be amended,” Alinor assured her daughter.
As soon as he was certain Joanna was out of hearing, Ian said to his wife, “I do not understand you, Alinor. You swore you would not press her into marriage until her own desire moved her, and you brought me to see that this was best. Now you have virtually ordered her to take Geoffrey. If you are doing this to Joanna to shield me”
“No, I swear it. It has nothing to do with you.” Alinor explained as best as she could the conversation she had had with her daughter and the reasons for her change in opinion. A few times Ian nodded in agreement, but mostly he looked puzzled and unhappy.
“I do not like it,” he insisted when Alinor was finished.
“Have you come to distrust Geoffrey?” Alinor asked anxiously, “Or Salisbury?”
“No, not at all. To my mind Geoffrey is perfect for her. I have always thought so, but by now I have come to know Joanna. She is biddablebut only because she does not care about most things. When she does careas she does about that accursed dogshe is neither to hold nor to bind.” “I know that.”
“Yes, well, if the situation were as usualif she could be betrothed and they could be together under our eyes or under Salisbury and Ela’s eyeswe would see soon enough how the wind was blowing. But now all must be done in haste. And then we will leave them, newly married, Geoffrey to go to war carryirig a burden for which he is not really ready, Joanna with the weight of the lands and the people and the fulfillment of Geoffrey’s demands upon her. From some small thing that you or I could explain in two minutes a quarrel might arise between them, alone and young as they are, that could grow beyond mending.”
“I know that too,” Alinor said slowly. “Yet Joanna has good sense and Geoffrey is no foolhe has Salisbury behind him too, and Joanna can go to Ela for help.”
“Not if they are married. I think she would be too proud. Listen, Alinor, if we betrothed them only it would serve our political purposes just as well and they would have time to grow accustomed. Geoffrey would have less real power, and Joanna would not feel that every order he gave was a personal affront.”
Alinor raised her brows, but she did not permit the smile she felt to touch her lips. Poor Ian was very reluctant to give up “his” daughter. He would rather think the girl had no sense than to admit she was a woman grown. To Ian, Joanna would always remain a frail and helpless childwhich she had never been once out of the cradle. Aside from reminding him of Joanna’s age in years and reiterating that she was a most sensible girl, Alinor made no attempt to change Ian’s attitude. It was a guarantee that Joanna would have a strong protector in any difference of opinion that might arise. Besides, just now, Ian’s reluctance to see Joanna wedded and bedded seemed to have borne a most satisfactory fruit. Alinor’s mild amusement faded as she considered from all angles what her husband had said.
“If Salisbury can be brought to agree,” she said, “I believe you have the answer to even the few doubts and fears I felt.”
p.
William of Salisbury’s hoarse roar brought a page, who had been half-dozing in a window seat, to his side in an instant. The earl had been dealing with estate matters and had come at last to a letter from Lord Ian that had arrived the previous day. The messenger from Roselynde had come upon Salisbury with one foot in the stirrup, preparing to ride out. Salisbury had paused just long enough to ask if there was anything urgent in the letter, and the messenger had replied doubtfully that he did not think so. He had not been urged to make haste, and the lord had been pleased and smiling when he handed the letter over. More he did not know.
After another moment’s consideration, Salisbury had waved the messenger away toward the inner keep. Probably Ian was again doubting the wisdom of his departure for Ireland. Salisbury loved Ian dearly, but he often wished his friend’s heart was harder and his aggressive courage a little less. In any case, Salisbury did not intend to give up a pleasant day’s sport to pander to Ian’s pride. Tomorrow would be soon enough, he thought, to rack his brains for more reasons why Ian should do what the smallest amount of common sense would have led him to propose himself.
‘‘Good God!” Salisbury now exclaimed, when surprise receded enough for him to form words. “Summon Lord Geoffrey to me at once.”
The page took off at a dead run, careened down the twisting stairs in imminent danger of breaking his neck, and, as soon as his eyes found their mark, bawled across the inner bailey, “Lord Geoffrey, your father orders your presence. Now! At once!” The taller of two full-armed figures, who had been striking and thrusting at each other with swords, leapt back. “Why? What is wrong?” Geoffrey asked.
“I do not know.” The page had come up to them, panting as he spoke. “But the lord was very angry.”
Geoffrey shoved his shield off his arm and pushed back his helmet as he started toward the keep. His pace increased as he moved. Usually his father was of a very equable disposition. It would take something very serious to throw him into a rage. Geoffrey thought over his recent peccadillos, but he could not pick on anything that would overset his father. He had not challenged anyone or killed anyone recentlynot very recently. Nonetheless, he was running himself by the time he reached Salisbury.
“What is wrong, papa?” he asked, slipping into the form he had used in childhood in his anxiety.
Salisbury raised his eyes from the letter he was rereading and beamed upon his son. “Wrong? Nothing!” he exclaimed. “I have an offer here I had almost given up hoping for.”
Geoffrey heaved an enormous sigh and sheathed the sword he was carrying naked in his hand. “The page said you were in a rage. I could not imagine what had overset you.”
“Oh, that. I was angry at myself because I thought it was only Ian worrying again because for once he is not trying to butt his way through a stone wall with his bare head. So I did not stop to read his letter when we went hunting yesterday, but it does not matter. A day’s delay in answering”
“You have an offer from Ian?” Geoffrey asked, plainly puzzled. Then his eyes lit. “For me? Does he want me to go with him?”
The eager expression made Salisbury laugh. “Fire-eater,” he said proudly and fondly. “There will be fighting enough here, and you will carry a heavier burden than you thought to bear, but leave that for later. Ian offers his daughterI mean Lady Alinor’s daughterto you in marriage.” “Marriage! Joanna? In marriage?”
That made Salisbury laugh again. “Why are you surprised? I have had a score of offers for you. I had begun to doubt my wisdom in turning them away because Ian never seemed to want to come to the point about Joanna. But I have been hoping for this since he married Alinor. I wanted to contract you then”
“I had no thought of marriage,” Geoffrey remarked stiffly.
“No thought of marriage? Do not be a fool! If you do not marry, who is to inherit your lands?”
“I intended to leave them to William,” Geoffrey said simply, “or perhaps to Isabella or Henry, if you thought that would be better.”
Salisbury got up and gripped his son’s shoulders. “Do not let me hear you speak like that again, Geoffrey. You should have been my eldest son by law as well as by birth. And you would have been, had not my father been eaten by greed and pride and ambition. Your mother was a good woman, and I loved her. What you have is your due. You are taking nothing from your brothers or your sister. God knows there is enough and more than enough for them.”
“Perhaps, but for me there is too much. Ela says nothing, but she cannot like”
“If there is something Ela does not like, she is the last one to say nothing,” Salisbury laughed. Then he sobered and shook his head. “You are wrong, Geoffrey. Ela loves you very dearly. She grudges you nothing. Do you think I made the disposition of my property without consulting her?”
“She grudges
you
nothing,” Geoffrey said. “No, I do not mean she is not fond of me. I know she is, but she desires above all that you should be happy.”
There were other reasons too, Geoffrey guessed, for his stepmother to make no protest over the property assigned to him. She had not always been fond of him and had not been willing to take him into her home when he was a child. Now she was sorry and felt guilty about that refusal. Geoffrey could not mention that, partly because he did not want his father to think he held that long-past sorrow against Ela and partly because he never mentioned those bitter years.
“Whatever the reasons,” Salisbury said dismissively, “the matter is settled. The lands are yours, or will be, and you must breed up sons to inherit them.” He had dropped his hands from his son’s shoulders, but now he took hold of his arms. ‘‘I want very much to see your children, Geoffrey. William is so young. I may never live to see his little ones.” Then he dropped his hands and smiled. “In truth, had I not been waiting for this offer, you would have been married two or three years ago.”
Geoffrey’s expression had softened when his father spoke of grandchildren, but tensed again at his last sentence. “Why did you say nothing to me?”
“About what? That I intended you to marry? What was there to say? You showed no signs, ever, of wishing to become a monk. If you mean why I said nothing about Joanna, that was because Alinor would not agree to make a contract, and you know Ian would never press her. Joanna is not his daughter, when all is said, no matter how much he loves the girl.”
“Lady Alinor does not desire me for a son?” The voice was flat, Geoffrey’s face totally blank, yet his father sensed his enormous shock.
“Do not be a fool! Alinor has been trying to urge Joanna in your direction for years, but she had some crazy idea that the girl must choose for herself. Thank God Ian’s political problems have brought her to a more reasonable way of thinking.”
“Are you saying that Joanna does not wish to marry me?”
“I am saying no such thing!” Salisbury exclaimed. “I am only saying that a modest, well-brought up girl like Joannaand do not forget that I know Joanna well because she spent considerable time in Ela’s care when you and Alinor and Ian were in Irelandwould never demean herself by expressing an opinion on such a subject. I am sure she agreed to the marriage as soon as your name was suggested to her. I am sure because I know Ian and Alinor. If Joanna had any objections, they would never force her. I do not believe in that either. To force an unwilling maid to take a man she dislikes is only to lay a groundwork for future grief.”
“And if the man is unwilling?”
Salisbury’s mouth dropped open in surprise, then concern filled his face. “Good God, Geoffrey, have you set your heart elsewhere? Why did you not speak to me? After what happened between your mother and me, did you think I would fail to sanction any marriage you desired? Say something, boy. Who is it?”
“No one. That”
“You mean you cannot marry the woman? Oh well, then, that is no impediment. For a man” Salisbury shrugged. “So long as you are kind to Joanna and discreet, you may do as you choose. What your wife does not know cannot hurt her.”
“There is no other woman,” Geoffrey said impatiently. “That is not what I meant.”
“You mean you do not wish to marry
Joanna?
” Salisbury’s voice rose in an incredulous howl. “Joanna? She is the most desirable thing I have seen inin I cannot think how many years. She is beautiful enough to make me almost forget my age, her temper is sweet, her nature pliable, and she is rich. She will have Roselynde and the bulk of Alinor’s property even if another daughter is born. She will have it all if there are no more children. What can anyone possibly say about Joanna that is not good? What fault can you find in Joanna?”
“None. There is no fault to be found in her,” Geoffrey agreed uncomfortably, although he well knew that the girl was neither so sweet nor so pliable as his father believed.
Salisbury sat down again heavily and stared wordlessly at his son. He discovered that Geoffrey’s features were peculiarly unreadable. The young man had come so recently from his duties as squire that the training still sat heavily upon him. Thus, he had not yet developed the freedom to fidget. He stood very quietly, very erect under the weight of his armor, arms at his sides, hands relaxed and open.
“Geoffrey,” Salisbury said, “I cannot understand you at all. You must tell me plainly what troubles you. If you cannot fault Joanna and you do not love another woman, what objection can you have to the marriage?”
“I do not know myself,” Geoffrey muttered. “I am not very sure I do object. Onlyonly I have this feeling thatthat it is too much. Joanna is too rich, too beautiful”
“Hmmm,” Salisbury mused, “you have more sense than I suspectedperhaps too much for a man your age, although that is likely to be just as well. It is true that a very beautiful and very rich wife can lead to trouble.”
He fell silent again, studying Geoffrey, trying to look at him as a young woman might. His son was a little above middle height and still very slender. Not that the boy was not well made. His shoulders were broad enough and his hips narrow as a man’s should be. The face was not out of the ordinary, rather long now that the roundness of childhood was gone, with a firm jaw, dented and ridged a little on the right where some chance blow had nicked the bone. There was another small scar high on the cheekbone under Geoffrey’s left eye; it did not look like a battle scar, perhaps a branch had caught him while hunting. His nose was straight, undamaged as yet by war; his mouth long and very mobile, the lips thin but well shaped.
It was the eyes that were Geoffrey’s most notable feature. Salisbury’s heart checked for an instant as the dim memory of a woman long dead came suddenly, vividly alive. The same eyes had ensnared Salisbury into a forbidden love. They were of a peculiarly changeable hue, from a glittering golden yellow to a dull, mud brown, shaded by long lashes darker than the young man’s hair. That was a good feature too, Salisbury thought, pulling his mind away from memories that held too much heat and not enough happiness. The style of the day, which allowed the hair to grow to just below the ears and to form a band across the forehead, was well suited to Geoffrey’s very straight, fine, light brown hair.