Desired (60 page)

When he did not deny her accusations over the French girl, she assumed him guilty. “Whoremaster!” she flung, wanting him to deny it, desperately needing him to deny it! She saw his eyes turn dark turquoise with anger. His hair fell in ebony waves to his broad shoulders. He was the most damnably attractive man she had ever seen. Had he not told her he could divorce her in a moment? “Arabian devil!” she spat. “I divorce you, I divorce you, I divorce you!”

She fled up the stairs and slammed her chamber door. Her breasts rose and fell as she sat on the bed panting. Now he would come and beat her to a jelly! She shivered in anticipation. But he did not come. By the time Brianna swallowed her pride and crept downstairs, Hawksblood and his three squires were long gone.

K
ing Edward envied his son going off to fight the French. He almost decided to accompany him when he learned John of France had left Paris and was bringing his army directly south. Concern for his wife and family was the only thing that stopped him. Princess Joanna had suddenly fallen ill and Queen Philippa was so frantic it might be the dreaded black death that King Edward knew he could not leave his wife to face it alone.

Hawksblood rode between Prince Edward and Warrick. Since Lancaster’s army was the same size as theirs, both would be able to cover the same distance each day. They therefore estimated they should join forces around the town of Poictiers. Since the French army was larger, they reasoned it would take King John far longer to get from Paris to Poictiers.

“Poictiers sounds like a fine place for a battle to me,” Prince Edward said decisively. He grinned at Hawksblood. “It’s in the heart of the wine country, so keep your men sober until the victory celebration.”

Warrick winked at Prince Edward. “By the black scowl on his face, my son looks as if he already has a hangover. It’s either too much wine or too much woman,” Warrick baited.

“Too
many
women,” Hawksblood muttered.

“What, is your lady still in a rage about the French filly? Doesn’t the lass know you are besotted with her?”

“No,” Hawksblood shot back at him, “but apparently everybody else knows! Am I a laughingstock then, because she has me jumping through hoops?”

“Nay, in matters of the heart, all men have the right to behave foolishly, and sooner or later manage to exercise that right!”

The three men lapsed into silence, each reflecting on his own folly. Warrick deeply regretted allowing his princess to remain behind when he left the East. There was seldom a night went by without her disturbing his dreams. Letting a
woman decide her own future was a mistake. A woman had no idea what she wanted until her man showed her. He should have ridden in and carried her off on his destrier. Warrick sighed for what might have been.

Prince Edward deeply regretted marrying Joan to John Holland. He should have defied his father, king or no king, and taken her for his wife. He should have married her first, then told his parents and the Council after the fact. What could they have done about it, once it was a fait accompli? Edward sighed for what might have been.

Hawksblood regretted leaving Brianna in anger. She was right. He should have released the St. Lôs instead of merely moving them next door. The woman meant nothing to him, but unfortunately Brianna did not know that. If only his beloved wife would learn to listen to her heart, her doubts would dissolve like snow in summer.

He had learned to listen to his heart where Brianna was concerned and it had shown him the way. He knew she loved him, knew she longed for exactly the same thing from life as he did: a warm and loving family. As he galloped along, he fell into a trancelike reverie, listening to his heart, savoring his deep and abiding love for the mate who encompassed his past, present, and future.

Joan handed Jenna to her wet nurse so that Glynis could dress her hair. “Braid it tightly. Brianna and I are riding today. She’s going to give me a tour of beautiful Bordeaux.”

Glynis was delighted with the change in Joan. She was back to her old, happy self again. A knock on the chamber door brought Marie St. Hillary, the queen’s waiting-woman. “Good morning, Lady Holland. Queen Philippa has sent me on a mission of mercy.”

“Marie, sit down and catch your breath, you are white as a sheet.”

Glynis poured Marie a little wine and rosewater and Marie sipped it gratefully. “Princess Joanna has fallen ill and the queen begs Glynis to come and help nurse her. She knows you have a vast knowledge of herbs and medicines.”

“Why, of course I will come. Let me get my supplies.”

“Queen Philippa says I must warn you that the physician
has put Princess Joanna’s household in quarantine so the contagion cannot spread, if it turns out to be the dreaded plague, God forbid!” Marie said, making the sign of the cross.

“You mean Glynis will have to stay there until the princess recovers?” Joan asked.

Marie nodded. “Queen Philippa is near mad with worry and wants to nurse Joanna herself, but the king agrees with the physician that she must keep away so that she cannot carry the sickness to the other royal children.”

Joan took Glynis aside. “You don’t have to go, Glynis. I’ll write the queen a note saying I cannot spare you.”

“It’s all right, my lady, I’m not afraid. But it’s wise to stay there so I won’t bring it back to you and Jenna.”

A finger of fear touched Joan as she watched Glynis leave, but the fear was not for herself, it was all for Jenna. She watched with anxious eyes as the nurse laid Jenna in her cradle. It couldn’t be the black death; only sailors in foreign ports or men-at-arms contracted such disgusting diseases. How could the contagion come right into the royal palace and choose a Plantagenet princess as its victim?

Joan swung toward the door as she saw it open. She could not have been more horrified if the Angel of Death had stepped over the threshold. It was Holland!

Her hand flew to her throat. “I … I thought you went on campaign with Edward,” she gasped.

Holland smiled. “The queen could not possibly manage without me at a time like this.”

Joan feared this man more than she feared any plague on earth. She stood frozen like a rabbit, helpless in the face of a fox. Her heart catapulted into her throat as she watched him move to the cradle and take Jenna into his arms. “I think our daughter should return to the royal nursery until the threat of this sickness passes. They are taking extra precautions with the royal children.”

“No!” Joan cried. “She will be safe with me.”

Holland spoke quietly to the wet nurse. “I’d like to be private with my wife. I’m sure I can explain that our child’s safety is more important than my wife’s irrational fear of being alone.”

The nurse curtsied to Sir John and went into the adjoining room.

“You monster, put my baby down,” Joan hissed.

He walked toward her with Jenna, the perfect picture of a devoted father. Joan began to tremble.

“Babies are so fragile. Many don’t survive their first year. Accidents happen so quickly. One twist of Jenna’s tiny leg could cripple her or one careless drop on her sweet little head could damage her brain and turn her into an idiot.”

Joan’s mouth went completely dry, the ache in her throat almost choking her. Joan knew she must get Jenna away from him immediately. She must tell the queen he had threatened her baby. Then she remembered Philippa was consumed with worry for her own child at this moment. Holland was supposed to be her baby’s father; no one would ever believe that he was a threat to his own child. They would say she was losing her mind as they had when Edmund died. There was only one person in the entire world who would believe her. Brianna.

“I will do whatever you ask,” Joan whispered.

“Oh, I know you will, my angel. When I return, I want the brat gone and the fucking nursemaids banished from our chambers permanently. We need time alone together so that we can get to know each other. Intimately! You will learn to cater to my likes and whims. I will teach you to give pleasure in ways you’ve never dreamed of.” When he saw his subjugation of her was complete, he said, “Call the nurse back.”

As Holland placed Jenna in the arms of the wet nurse, Joan tried to choose words that would satisfy his sick need to dominate her. “My husband has convinced me that our baby will be safer in the nursery. I’ll bring some of her things and we’ll get a servant to remove her cradle. My husband’s position of Steward is so demanding, he’d like our time together to be private and undisturbed.”

Holland dropped a possessive kiss upon Joan’s fair brow. “Thank you, my angel. Your decision is most wise. I shall join you in an hour or so.”

Joan was so weak with relief that she had gotten Jenna away from him safely, her knees almost buckled as she walked with the wet nurse to the royal nursery. The girl was
as terrified of the plague as Joan was of Holland and talked about it in fearful whispers until they arrived at the nursery, where she was told in no uncertain terms to keep her mouth shut in front of the children.

Joan kissed Jenna a dozen times before she could force herself to leave her, but she knew her baby would receive round-the-clock care with the experienced royal nurses. Numb with fear, she sought out her only sanctuary. Brianna.

“Joan, have you heard the dreadful news about Princess Joanna?” Brianna asked.

Joan nodded and murmured, “Queen Philippa asked Glynis if she would help nurse her in quarantine.”

“How courageous she is!” Brianna declared. “I’m not sure I could be that brave.”

Joan burst into tears. “Brianna, you are the bravest woman I know. ’Tis I who am weak and afraid! My God, I’m so ashamed of what I’ve done, I wish it were me who had the plague instead of Joanna!”

“Darling, what in the world are you saying?” Brianna cried, putting her arms about Joan. “My God, you are trembling like a leaf. Do you feel ill?”

“No … yes, so ill I’m dying! John Holland is killing me!” Joan blurted.

“What did he do to you?” Brianna demanded.

Joan sank down upon the chaise longue, gripping one of its cushions tightly. Then she brought it to her breast and hugged it as if it were a shield that would protect her. “When Edward went away last time, Holland raped me.”

“Jesu!” Brianna gasped. “I take it you didn’t tell Edward?”

“Dear God, no. Holland threatened to tell Edward I welcomed him to my bed,” Joan said in a voice so filled with misery it wrung Brianna’s heart.

“That same night the king came to tell me of my brother’s death and when I collapsed and the queen’s ladies came, it was the only thing that saved me from Holland’s insatiable lust. I begged you not to leave me alone, and then you talked the queen into letting me have Jenna and her nurses in my chamber.”

Brianna poured Joan a large goblet of wine and insisted that she drink it down.

“I thought I was safe from him this time. Edward told me he was taking Holland on campaign, but he didn’t go!”

“Joan, you should have told someone!”

“But how can I complain about Holland demanding his rights when he is my legal husband?”

“You should have told me!”

“I was too ashamed, and I thought it would never happen again. But it will, it will!”

“It most certainly will not! Adele”—Brianna summoned her waiting-woman—“I’m going to stay with Joan. Please pack me some things.”

“I’m afraid of him, Brianna, and Glynis is so afraid of him she carries a coffin nail for protection.”

“God in Heaven, I have something better than a coffin nail!” Brianna declared. “Adele, where is that curved dagger I bought at the tournament fair?”

“I’ll get it for you. I’d better come with you, my lamb.”

“You most certainly will not. Adele is having a baby,” Brianna explained to Joan. “Paddy would have my guts for garters if anything happened to you or the child. Besides, Holland won’t dare lift his filthy eyes in Joan’s direction in my presence.”

“What if Holland harms you?” Adele demanded.

“A monster or a bully cannot be appeased. The only escape is to confront him head-on and see him for what he is. Joan, when you love and honor who and what you are, you don’t allow people to coerce you; you fight them.”

Adele knew that once Brianna had made up her mind, there was no deterring her. She glanced at the ferret who was running along the open balcony. “Shall I put him on his chain or do you want to take him with you?”

“As a matter of fact, that’s an excellent suggestion. Gnasher is better protection than a watchdog.”

As Hawksblood galloped along, a powerful vision of Brianna came to him. He saw her reach for a curved dagger and strap it at her waist. The vision was so crystal clear, he saw both outrage and stubborn determination written on
her lovely face. He knew immediately that she was in grave danger.

He turned to Warrick. “I have to go back,” he told his father, with no further explanation. He spurred ahead to ride abreast of Prince Edward and his squire, John Chandos. “Brianna is in terrible danger. I must go back.”

Edward knew of Christian’s visions. Knew this was no coward’s trick to avoid fighting the French.

“I’ll return as soon as I can, Sire. I’ll catch up with you on the road or at Poictiers. I swear on the Cross.”