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of conversation," Joanna remarked drily. "When we ride, I hear of how Lady Alinor sits a horse. If we stop to talk to a merchant or a villein, I hear of how Lady Alinor manages her men. In fact, whatever we do, Lady Alinor is perfect in that thing." |
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A giggle escaped Alinor, then a louder laugh, then a most unladylike series of whoops. "Oh! Oh!" she gasped when she could speak at all, wiping tears from her eyes with one hand and holding her aching ribs with the other. "Oh, how I will roast him! I will have you know, my lady, that he never says a kind word to me. I am willful, and disobedient, and unmaidenly. It is you, Lady Joanna, who are a compendium of all the virtues. You should see the letters I have received praising the sweetness of your temper, your gentleness, your modesty and prudence." |
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A less guarded warmth came into Joanna's eyes and she laughed. "Well," she admitted, "he must be honest too. He never said you were modest, prudent, or sweet tempered." Suddenly her gaze became speculative, but she asked no question, merely continued. "I had assumed you to be absolutely perfect. I am glad to know you are human and no saint." |
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"But Alinor is sweet tempered," Berengaria protested. |
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"And modest? And prudent?" Joanna teased. |
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"Yes, indeed," Berengaria insisted. |
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There, Alinor thought, was the lady's real failing. She saw what she wanted to see, not what was really there. "Perhaps to you I am," she replied, seeing that Berengaria, who had no sense of humor, was distressed. "But, my lady, you do not constantly tell me to have a care not to ride a spirited mount, or climb a hill, or dance three times with the same gentleman. Nor do you disagree with me on the management of my estates. Oh, that brings to mind There are matters I must have Sir Simon's approval upon regarding my lands. If we are truly to go with the King, I would like to send |
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