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On June 19, the barons of England, rebel and loyal alike, repeated their oath of homage to the king. Geoffrey swore with the others and then asked leave to go, which was readily granted. Since Alinor was at Roselynde, Joanna rode out and met Geoffrey at Hemel. She soon came to the conclusion that she had better have stayed at home. His mood was black as night, and nothing she did seemed able to lighten it. Often, even when they made love, instead of falling asleep after a few drowsy, loving words, Geoffrey would get out of bed and paceshort step, long step; short step, long step. |
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If Joanna asked what troubled him, he usually came back to bed and pretended to sleep, but one day he turned on her, snarling, "You wanted me to hate warwell, you have your desire. I hate it!" |
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After that, Joanna asked no more questions, believing that Geoffrey's sufferings had marked his spirit as well as his body. She found to her own amazement that she did not despise his fear. Love encompasses all things. She was only agonized because she could offer him no comfort. She prayed for peace with a fervency that her own fear had never brought to her. Her voice trembled with tenderness when she spoke to her husband and she said "beloved" to him with her heart on her lips. That, which he had so dearly desired, brought no light to Geoffrey's eyes. Perhaps the love, naked at last, made him look more haunted. |
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Joanna's prayers were not answered. The news was hesitantly good at first. John really seemed to be trying to right the injustices brought to his attention and keep the letter of Magna Carta. But soon the rumors turned as ugly as Geoffrey's scowl. The hard core of rebel barons began in July by |
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