Lovell shows people who he is
Kuipy (King of Leon)
They say that in Normandy every story begins with a meal; but now all Aveline wanted to taste was her husband’s lips. When he kissed her neck his trim beard brushed on her fair skin. Gently he rolled at her side, careful not to hit her swollen belly. They smiled to each other and she let her hands roam over Gaillard’s strong, hairy chest and his large shoulder. The old scar was still there, two spans below them, on his right side.
Like most of the Two Bastards’ descendants Gaillard was a big man, but strong and shapely, with only the faintest hint of a gut. Where her sisters’ husbands were old and gouty, hers was tall, handsome, and tireless. And he loved her. She could only thank her father to have arranged her wedding with him, although the latter’s reasons for that match were nothing but political.
She could still see him stroking his white sideburns and explaining her mother, ten years before: “He really is quite the man, a real Norman. Quite the king England would need, really, if it comes to that. And our cousin besides, by his Breteuil mother. Not to mention that after four years his brother has yet to produce a son of his own.” She could still remember his smile the first time they met, a frank, genial smile, and the weird shyness she could read beneath it. She remembered walking to the altar, and their first night after that. When the baby kicked in her she also remembers the previous ones, their two daughters.
“Maybe it will be a boy.” she whispered to him.
“What did Isaac say?”
Isaac of Toledo was her husband’s physician, a stooped, shrewd Jew who had saved his life years before. Though she disliked his rasping voice and his prying fingers, he was a man of great learning, and surprisingly deft with his long spotted hands.
“He says nothing can be certain for now. But in Exeter there was a hermit that would predict a child’s sex for a coin.”
“Where are Cornish hermits when you need them?” he kissed her. “I need to go now.”