The Scarlet Lion Read Online Free PDF

John probably isn't guilty, but he's not entirely sure. Why would he leave court unless he had something to fear? If ever our sons start behaving like Richard and John, I will drown them, I swear I will." He heaved a deep sigh. "Richard is going on campaign in the Limousin to work off his anger and hunt for gold to fill his coffers. Some vassal of Aymer de Lusignan has dug up an ancient hoard on his lands and he's refusing to give it up." He picked up one of Mahelt's poupées, the one o f himself as a warrior in the green and yellow surcoat, and eyed it thoughtfully. "Richard needs funds and the idea of a spring campaign to make the sap rise appeals to him."
       Isabelle's stomach lurched. "You are not going with him?"
       "No, I'm still due to sit on the Bench of Justices with Hubert Walter at Vaudreuil. De Braose, de Burgh, and Mercadier are attending on Richard. He says John can wait until his return… I'm not sure he can, but it's a brew for Richard's cup, not mine." He put aside the poupée in the surcoat and picked up the one of himself in court garb of red twill embroidered with silver thread. "Jesu, another tunic," he said with a shake of his head, making it clear which of the two figures he would rather be. "I am in danger of becoming a fop."
       Isabelle's heart lightened with relief that King Richard was not summoning him on yet another campaign. "Sybilla made it for her. She's so quick and skilled with a needle that it takes her no time." She lowered her voice and added, "Sybilla thinks she may be with child."
       "So that's what you were gossiping about when I came in?"
       She smiled demurely. "More or less."
       He grunted with amusement. "Lady Elizabeth has a loud voice," he said. "It is good news for them. Jean will be pleased." He rose to his feet and stretched. Isabelle was glad to see the tension had gone out of him; glad too that he had come to her to ease and share his burden. Not all marriages were thus.
       "I suppose if I am leaving for Vaudreuil on the morrow I had better find my two eldest sons. I promised them a jousting lesson." A regretful expression crossed his face. "It doesn't seem a moment since I was their age and my father was teaching me my sword strokes at the pell."
       "While doubtless your mother looked on with her heart in her mouth."
       "Not in the least. She knew the only way I was going to make my way in the world was by learning to use the tools of my trade. Besides, she had already had her moment of anguish when I was five years old and King Stephen almost hanged me from a gibbet."
       Isabelle shuddered. Whenever William mentioned the episode from his infancy when King Stephen had taken him hostage for his father's word of honour, she felt cold. His father had gone back on his word and in retaliation Stephen had threatened to string William up in full view of the besieged garrison. "And no surprise. If any man tried to do that to one of ours, I would bar his way with a naked sword," she said with a curl of her lip. "If I had been wed to your father, I would have killed him."
       He looked wry, "I do believe you would, my love."
       He gave a humourless smile. "I think my mother came close to it on occasion. He lived very close to the edge… Died in his bed, though, and of old age." He kissed her cheek. "Don't look so worried. No one is going to take our sons as hostages." Leaning past her, he picked up the representation of Isabelle from Mahelt's collection of poupées. "New clothe s for you as well, I see." He pursed his lips in assessment. "I like the cloak."
       "It's Irish plaid," Isabelle said, eyeing him.
       "I noticed—even if you think I don't know anything about Ireland. When Richard returns from his campaign I'll ask his leave to visit Leinster. You have waited long enough."
       Isabelle stared at him. Then she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth. "Thank you!" she gasped. "Thank