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Page 144
she had been likened to the sun. He would probably inform her trenchantly that the reflection from the flames of hell on her head had been confused with a purer light.
"Oh, look at me," Braybrook cried softly, "see how my heart has taken fire from your loveliness. I cannot bear that you should know a moment's grief."
Exactly like the lines in a play, Joanna thought, her eyes stubbornly fixed on Brian's head lest the laughter in them give her away. No one really said such things. "I beg you, do not tempt me to sin," she got out in a quivering voice, sure that whoever had designed the play would approve of her rendering of his lines.
"I do not. I do not," Sir Henry assured her, seizing her hand. "It is your heart I desire. There can be no sin in a pure love."
The heart you desire is between my legs, Joanna thought crudely, but you are speaking the lines correctly. She looked up finally, so taken up with her amusing concept that they both knew they were involved in a farce of infidelity that her glance was replete with approval. It was on this note that this act of a farce must end. And right on cue, came the "interrupter."
"Say no more, my lord," Joanna murmured, withdrawing her hand gently. "The queen comes."
Braybrook was not surprised, but he was highly annoyed. It was Isabella who had sent him into the garden after Joanna, although he had not needed any urging. Sir Henry was reasonably sure that Isabella wanted to make trouble for the girl. He was perfectly willing to please her because it would permit him to take a most suitable revenge on Geoffrey. That Joanna should happen to be one of the most desirable pieces he had ever laid eyes upon was additional good luck. However, the queen was a fool. Joanna was no experienced court slut with whom a man could come to terms in five minutes. Doubtless she was heading speedily in that direction, but at present she was still green and needed elaborate coaxing. Isabella had not allowed sufficient time.

 
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