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misread him. It was clear that he felt what she felt. His eyes burned yellow with desire. What she did misunderstand was the reason for his restraint. She was more convinced than ever that he had lied at Clyro, that there was some important purpose behind the choice of betrothal over marriage. |
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Thus, Joanna did not ask in any of the letters she wrote to Alinor for permission to marry. She was, in fact, careful not even to hint of her desire. Geoffrey came into her letters only as he served a political purpose. But her body was not docile to her will; reason meant nothing to her lips and her skin and her loins. Geoffrey had awakened her lust, and it would not be lulled back to sleep. When he was near, she found her nostrils spreading to catch his scent, her hand lifting, without volition to touch him, her knee moving to press his under the table. |
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It was some comfort to Joanna, for desire had not yet killed her sense of humor, that whatever Geoffrey did to assuage his lust while they were apart was of little help to him when they were together. She was both titillated and amused when he drew himself together so they should not brush in passing, when he tore his eyes from an absorbed contemplation of her face or throat or breast to fix them stubbornly on some less magnetic object. It was a comfort to know he suffered also, but a painful one when he would not even permit her to perform the common services of a hostess, such as bathing him and helping him dress. Joanna was not offended; she understood why. She had even laughed heartily at him when he roared at her to get out and let him bebut she wanted to touch him, she wanted to. |
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There was thus as much relief as sadness when Joanna read Geoffrey's letter and she sighed only a little when she packed the gifts she had made ready for her betrothed and sent them off with Knud to be delivered to him. Nonetheless, it was lonely in Roselynde, and Joanna set about arranging the twelve-day festivities very listlessly. It was going to be very odd to be sitting all alone in great state at the high table with no one to talk to or laugh with. Joanna was almost tempted to go to Iford or Kingsclere, just for the |
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