Read Online The Heart of the Lion by Jean Plaidy - Free Book Online Page B

but there had been a time when she had been in England. She could remember the Princess Alice’s being in the nurseries with her and her brother John. Alice had seemed a good deal older than she and John were but it could only have been a few years. What scandal there had been later concerning Alice! She could remember her father’s visiting the nursery and how she and John had been a little jealous of the attention he gave to Alice. And what now he was dead? Would Richard marry her? It seemed hardly likely. Alice’s situation, she reflected, was no more pleasant than her own.
    What are we, the princesses of royal houses? she thought bitterly. Nothing but counters in a game. If it suits the country’s politics we are married – wherever the most advantage is to be found, no matter what bridegroom we must take.
    She herself had been fairly fortunate with her husband although the marriage almost did not take place. William had been a good husband, ten years her senior, but that was not such a bad thing as she had been only eleven years old when his emissaries had come to take her to Sicily.
    The betrothal had previously been set aside as William who had been at this time seventeen did not want to wait for a child of seven and he had hoped to marry a daughter of the eastern emperor, Manuel Comnenus. This scheme did not come to fruition and in due course William had sent his ambassadors to England to inspect the little Princess Joanna.
    This was the time when she had been brought to Winchester and shared a schoolroom with her brother John and Princess Alice, Richard’s betrothed. She would never forget her father’s coming to the schoolroom and there telling her that some very important noblemen had arrived from Sicily with the express purpose of seeing her. He had told her that she must conduct herself with decorum, for what these gentlemen thought of her could have a great effect not only on her future but on his.
    She had stood before them and answered their questions and she knew that she had done well, for her father had laid his hand on her shoulder and pressed it affectionately and she had heard one of the men exclaim: ‘But her beauty is outstanding. The King of Sicily will be pleased exceedingly.’ Back in the nursery she had told a curious John and Alice what had taken place.
    ‘Oh,’ had said the knowledgeable Alice, ‘it is a betrothal.’
    She had told them that the King of Sicily would be exceedingly pleased.
    ‘It is because you are pretty,’ Alice had explained.
    ‘Richard must have been exceedingly pleased with you,’ Joanna had said.
    ‘Like our father is,’ John had added, at which beautiful Alice had blushed deeply.
    ‘She’s prettier than ever pink,’ John had commented.
    And now Joanna knew what the blush had implied.
    We are surrounded by intrigue from our cradles, she thought.
    And so she had come to Sicily when she was a girl of eleven. When she had landed in Normandy she had been met by her eldest brother, Henry. King Henry he had called himself because he was so proud of the fact that their father had allowed him to be crowned. He was so handsome and charming that she loved him and was proud to have such a brother. He was also kind, gentle and full of fun. He wanted her to remember the time she spent with him. When they stopped at various castles on the way he would organise entertainments for her, and there had been tournaments where she could see him joust. He used to say: ‘I’m going into this for you. You are my lady – my little sister Joanna.’ Oh yes, Henry had had great charm. He was quite different from his namesake their father. Yet she knew now that he had been weak, that the charm had been superficial; that he had lied to his father and grieved him sorely. But to the young Joanna he had seemed perfect. How sad it was that childhood illusions must be shattered! She had wept bitterly when he had died and had prayed constantly for his soul. She feared it might be in