Chapter Twenty-Nine

J oanna sat in the window seat of the top room of the tower and sipped sweet peppermint tea. She couldn't tear her eyes from her beautiful sister. Becoming a widow at the tender age of just sixteen hadn't faded the sparkle in her eyes, though her smile was not as quick to tip her mouth as it had been.

"Please, tell us more," Joanna said. "Tell us everything."

"I am afraid there is no way to add roses and perfume to the full truth." Catherine scowled.

"I am sorry for that and I will help in any way I can." Joanna took her sister's hand. "As will Beatriz."

"Of course," Beatriz said, "you have been in my prayers every night. I am so relieved that the sickness that took your husband did not steal you away from the Earth too."

"It would have been God's will if that had been the case." Catherine touched the cross at her neck, one that their mother had given her when she'd been born. Joanna remembered it.

"My father by law, whom you have just met, aged quickly after the death of Arthur and then with the loss of his wife too…"

"Yes, he does look rather…disheveled." Joanna's mouth downturned. "For a king, that is."

"He is thin, it is true," Beatriz added.

"He worries about the Tudor dynasty," Catherine went on. "It hangs precariously by a thread now that he has only one son, Henry, who is still young, five years younger than I."

"Unless he has more heirs now," Joanna said.

Catherine's lips tightened.

"What is it?" Beatriz asked, setting down her cup.

"For a time…" Catherine looked between the two women. "He talked of marriage to me."

"What? No…you can't," Joanna said.

"It was not for me to have a say in it," Catherine said. "King Henry didn't want to pay back my dowry to Mother and Father and he knew me to be young and believed me to be fertile."

"So why didn't he marry you?" Beatriz asked.

"For that, I have our parents to thank." She smiled at Joanna. "For all they were stern at times, they have our best interests at heart, really."

Joanna bit on her bottom lip. Now was not the time to share with Catherine how their father was spreading rumors about her sanity.

"I wrote to Mother," Catherine was saying, "telling her of my distaste for the marriage and she replied…" Catherine paused. "I want to get this right. She replied with ‘That is an evil abomination that offends my ears.'" She laughed.

Joanna and Beatriz laughed too.

"She had a point," Joanna said. "And no doubt a plan to distract him."

"Indeed, you know…or rather, knew her well," Catherine said, "for she sent him news of her niece, Joanna of Naples, newly widowed and quite beautiful."

"And what did Henry do?" Joanna asked.

"Almost immediately, he sent a delegation to Italy to discover more about Joanna. He also instructed his envoy John Stile to find out about Joanna's appearance."

"This doesn't surprise me," Joanna said.

"Yes, I agree. He wished to know the color of her hair. The condition of her teeth and the shape and size of her nose and eyes."

"That is a great many details," Beatriz said.

"That is not all. From what I heard, he also demanded to know the state of her skin and complexion and whether she had hair on her face. He instructed Stiles to pay particular attention to her breasts…"

"How very improper." Beatriz gasped and pressed her hand to her chest.

Catherine leaned forward and lowered her voice. "He wanted to know whether they be big or small and was apparently delighted to find out that they be somewhat great and full, comely and not misshapen." She giggled.

"Oh, my." Joanna laughed and shook her head. "What a relief you did not have to marry him. He is a brute."

"Indeed." Beatriz wiped away a tear of mirth. "And what of you? Will he repay your dowry and send you back to Spain?"

"No." Catherine shook her head. "My fate has been sealed here, in England."

"It is a fine land," Joanna said.

"Not so much in the winter." Catherine shuddered. "It is bleak and cold with many days of rain. You would like it much better if you were here in the summertime"

"Rain is good for the crops."

"There are no olives."

"I shall ensure many barrels are sent to you, dear sister." Joanna kissed the back of Catherine's knuckles. "For I hate the thought of you not having olives to nibble."

"I thank you."

"You said your fate was sealed," Beatriz said. "Why do you think that?"

"Because…" Catherine glanced out of the window. "Upon hearing of our mother's death, I became quite unwell. Sickness in my stomach—even the Spanish physician could not heal me. His final suggestion was that I needed to marry and resume sexual activity." She rolled her eyes. "I mean, really! If not having sex made a woman ill, then don't you think every nun in the land would be mortally sick?"

"I dare say." Joanna nodded.

"Good point," Beatriz added.

"I am to marry the young Prince Henry, when he is of age," she said. "Pope Julius has given special dispensation."

"That was needed?" Joanna asked.

"Yes, because I was married to Henry's brother. And the Bible forbids a man to marry his brother's wife, but as our marriage was unconsummated, we never lay together, so the Pope has given us his blessing."

Joanna was quiet, as was Beatriz.

"And he's a pleasing person, young Henry," Catherine said, a smile suddenly lifting her mouth. "Clever and witty. I enjoy his company and he enjoys mine. Certainly, he seems to have eyes only for me, even though he is young."

"And I can see why." Beatriz tucked a strand of hair behind Catherine's ear, the way she used to do when Catherine had been an infant. "You are a sight to behold."

"I thank you, dear Beatriz." Catherine took her hand.

"And a man who has eyes only for you is a gem, indeed," Joanna said. "One you should keep tight hold of and never let go."

"I would agree with that wholeheartedly," Catherine said. Her expression suddenly lifted. "How excited you must be to return to Castile."

"Yes, indeed I am." Joanna had dreamed of the fanfare, the adoring crowds, the cheers and adulation for both her and Philip. It would be a wondrous occasion and one her father could not ignore. There was no way Philip could be denied his crown when she had an entire population and army on her side. "It will be a joyous occasion and what will please me the most is being invested alongside my dear husband. He will look so handsome wearing a Castile crown and one day the Spanish Crown."

"Indeed, he will," Beatriz said.

"I cannot wait to meet him." Catherine poured more tea. "But perhaps tomorrow. Today, I am indulging myself with your company alone, for I have missed you so much, dear, kind, brave Joanna."

*

"How did you find your sister?" Philip asked from a plush chair. He wore just his breeches—his broad chest bare—and held a leatherbound book.

"Physically, she is well, but life has been hard here in England for her since her husband's untimely death." Joanna set her headdress to one side and looked around the room. "We have much to discuss, she and I."

"And you will have time. We will stay awhile. It is good for future relations between our countries." He paused. "What do you think of our host?"

"He is most hospitable and what a lovely room he has given us. Much better than a cabin on a storm-battered ship. The floor doesn't move, for one thing."

He laughed. "I agree."

They had been lodged in a very grand section of Windsor Castle. The walls were adorned with silk tapestries and heavily framed paintings of landscapes. Above which was a border of crimson velvet stenciled with the king's devices: roses, portcullis, and shields.

The bed was a mahogany four-poster, the deep-green curtains thick with golden thread. The solid furniture gleamed with polish and was set with trays of goblets and wine, as well as apples, dates, and walnuts. A large window, set forward in a squared section of the room, offered views of the wintery landscape with its bare-boned trees and copiously clouded sky.

"The fire has not long been lit," Philip said, standing and striding toward it. He threw on another log then held his palms to the warmth.

"That is good. It is deep winter here." Joanna lit a fat candle on a bookshelf.

"It will do us good to rest up after our awful experience."

"I thank the Lord we survived." She touched the cross at her neck. "At one point, I believed we were taking our last breaths."

Philip stepped up to her and wrapped his arms around her. "I too give thanks. What a loss it would have been for Castile if we had drowned."

"And for our children."

He smiled and touched his lips to hers. "That goes without saying, though I must say we have left Charles a great inheritance of land and titles."

"He will be a powerful man one day, but not for a great many years, I hope." She set her hands on his warm chest. "Make love to me, Philip. What will it matter now if I become with child? We will be in Castile before I even know it."

"You tempt me so." He groaned softly and kissed her deeper. "Another child would indeed be a blessing and a great gift."

"So give in to temptation," she whispered as she tugged at the front lace of her gown.

He studied her movements and when her breasts were exposed swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. "My sweet Joanna, you drive me loco with desire for you."

"As do you."

"So I suppose we are crazy for each other." He cupped her right breast and kissed her again.

She melted into his hard, strong body. He was so alive, so vibrant and powerful. With him at her side, she could do anything, even defeat her father.

Within a minute, they were both naked and falling onto the bed. A log crackled in the grate and a hunting horn sounded in the distance. Joanna ignored it all as her husband settled between her thighs and found her entrance.

"I wish for you to find pleasure many times," he murmured, easing inside her. "So that you truly forget all of your worries and your tumultuous time on the ship."

"I have forgotten it already." She gripped his shoulders and stared into his eyes. "You are all I think of."

He smiled then clamped his lips together as he drove in deep.

She gasped. His cock's entry was always a blissful stretching that bordered on discomfort before becoming absolute pleasure.

He moaned, deep and guttural, and his body connected with hers.

She bucked up to meet him, grinding against him as she wrapped her legs around his hips. She knew his body the way she knew her own and ran her hands down his long, lean back to cup his firm buttocks.

Within minutes, he was skillfully driving her to her first orgasm. She didn't shy from it. She reached for it, then claimed it, and as she spasmed around his cock, lost to ecstasy, she thought her heart would overflow with love.

A love that was so profound, so weaved into the fabric of her soul, that without her one and true love, she was sure she'd unravel, her threads would be laid bare, and there would be nothing left of her but madness.

THE END

Don't miss EMbrACED BY THE EMPEROR and find out how Philip and Joanna's children fare in sixteenth-century life and love.