The Passionate Brood Read Online Free PDF

who would have ducked her.
    “I doubt if there be any such thing!” scoffed Robin.
    “But some of us old ’uns have seen ’em up to their devilry,” persisted a gnarled old man-at-arms. “I tell ’ee, Sir, there be women who have power to cast spells on a man and make him do all manner of things against his conscience.”
    “Then every pretty girl I kiss must be a witch!” laughed Robin.
    Blondel was so interested in the conversation that he forgot he was among strangers. “Surely there are witches aren’t there, Sir?” he asked, appealing to his Duke.
    But Richard was not to be drawn. “I’m sure I hope you’re right, Blondel,” he laughed, handing the boy his empty mug. “Because this one promises me all sorts of impossible fame.”
    He went indoors and called for a wash and then, inevitably, he and Robin and John went tramping up the turret stair, and the Tower room was complete, holding them all again. All but Matilda and Margaret who were married, and Geoffrey, Duke of Brittany, who had died just before his little son Arthur was born. Eleanor’s best-loved son was telling her how good it was to have her back and Robin—who seemed older than any of them because he thought more for others—was showing them a ridiculous fairing he had brought for Johanna. He and John set it up on the table—two cleverly carved wooden knights, less than a foot high, who pranced and couched their lances in mock combat when one pulled the strings. But, to his surprise, instead of exclaiming, “Oh, Robin, how adorable!” Johanna thanked him with a preoccupied politeness which made the thing seem tawdry instead of droll. Johanna, who was usually such a satisfactory person about presents!”
    Ann had taken up her embroidery again. The Plantagenets’ demonstrative delight in each other made her feel an outsider, and she considered it bourgeois.
    “What an industrious chatelaine you’ll make!” praised Richard, trying to make amends for having forgotten to bring her anything from the fair. But the thought of her industry seemed to cast a gloom over his future. How much more fun, he thought, if she plagued the steward for parties and joined in forbidden boar hunts like Johanna! He kissed the cool cheek Ann offered him and, as an antidote to her gentility, took Hodierna into a bear-like hug. “Fond woman, when are you going to make me that magic suit of mail?” he demanded.
    “When I’ve found the herb that’s proof against poisoned arrows,” promised Hodierna. It was an old bargain between them. One of those threadbare inanities upon which family life is built.
    “You’re not even looking for it,” he scolded. “Just wasting time on all this woman’s gear.” But as he disentangled the handle of his hunting knife from a froth of clinging white stuff Johanna said tonelessly, “It’s my wedding veil.”
    Richard dropped the stuff as if it had burned him. “My dear infant!” he muttered, suddenly sobered.
    Living less carelessly from day to day, Robin had always known that this must happen. That was why he always bought her amusing fairings and never brooches, as a lover might. And now his heart bled for her, understanding her desolate preoccupation.
    They all stared at her expectantly, but when the words came she felt that she was explaining about someone else. “I know now why we have Mother back. The King wants me to marry William of Sicily.”
    “The swine!” ejaculated Richard.
    “Which?” enquired Henry.
    “Both, for that matter.” Richard stood in the middle of the room, frowning and furious. “Mother—Henry—it’s damnable!” he burst out. “Selling a girl to that mouldering old deathshead for the sake of a Mediterranean alliance!”
    Robin stood dumbly torn. Months ago he had had to make out the marriage contract from the King’s dictation. It meant the immolation of Youth’s fires, but there was nothing he could say without criticising the man who had given him everything.
    With a wild