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Page 79
she was so red and fox-haired because one so red could never approach beauty. Caution, however, restrained Joanna from saying any more. She knew that Isabella hated Geoffrey and guessed the queen must know she was now betrothed to him. Her eyes were wary under their downcast lids as she reached for the message. It was very brief and in the beautiful, clear writing of a scribe. Joanna raised her eyes to Beorn. "Please see to Sir Henry's refreshment while I take this to Father Francis to read," she said. It was no business of anyone's that she could read and writea most unwomanly ability and one that Braybrook might well not have himself.
When she returned, Sir Henry was seated with wine at hand, Beorn standing silently a slight distance away. Joanna looked at the old master-at-arms. "The queen invites me to come to her at Whitechurch," she said.
"Leuedy," he burst out, "thou sholdest nat faren."
Braybrook looked sharply from Beornwho had spoken excellent French to himto Joanna, but nothing showed in her face. After a moment of staring at Beorn, as if she did not understand what he said or was surprised by it, she smiled uncertainly at Sir Henry.
"This has thrown me all of a maze," she murmured. "I never dreamt to have so much honor done me as for the queen to call me to her. Thus, I am all unready for her gracious summons"
"I would not deny her, Lady Joanna," Braybrook remarked. "She iserof high spirit and easily offended."
"Oh, I would not want to offend the queen," Joanna twittered in a high, unnatural voice, as if suddenly stricken by fear.
She unclasped her hands and allowed them to flutter apart, to her throat, to her lap when she had seated herself to play with her jeweled belt. Had Geoffrey been there he would have roared with laughter. Joanna was imitating Lady Ela with devastating effectiveness. Like a snake-charmed bird, Braybrook's eyes followed her hands, fixed on them when they nervously, seemingly unconsciously,

 
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