The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [110]
I had made my son Richard heir of Aquitaine. The eldest, Henry, would, of course, have England; the new Geoffrey I supposed Anjou. There was territory enough for them. And if everything went as Henry planned, young Henry would have France as well.
I knew how Henry’s mind worked. He would wring the utmost advantage from this match. He had talked to me often of the Vexin, that buffer state between Normandy and Louis’s kingdom; and I had seen the acquisitive gleam in his eyes. If he could get control of the Vexin he could feel that Normandy was considerably safer than it was at this time. He longed for the Vexin and I knew he was going to ask for it as Marguerite’s dowry.
I imagined Henry’s meeting with Louis. Louis must have schooled himself. I wondered whether the thought of Henry and me together came into his head. The puritanical often suffer from acute imagination in these matters, I believe. He would be most uncomfortable and obsessed by his visions. Poor Louis. Did he in his heart feel reproachful toward God for not making better arrangements for the procreation of the human race?
Henry would go to Paris in a manner entirely different from that employed by his Chancellor. I pictured him in his short cape and simple jacket—no concessions from Henry—riding his horse magnificently—he and his horse always looked as though they were one—his gloveless, chapped hands unashamedly exposed. “Is this the King?” the people would ask. “How different he is from his Chancellor.” But there would be no mistaking the regality. Henry could not hide that if he tried. I imagined that proud head, leonine and tawny—a King to respect and fear.
Louis and his Constance received him graciously. Henry of course could put himself out to be charming when there was much to be gained. He would show his erudition; his conversation would be witty and very much to the point. Perhaps I should not have been surprised that, between them, he and Becket should manage to get what they wanted from Louis.
On the marriage of Marguerite and Henry, the Vexin should form part of her dowry. The poor child was only a year old, so Louis had a long time before he need relinquish his hold on that important territory.
Henry remained in France. He would not leave it until he was sure it was safe to do so. Meanwhile he was stabilizing his friendship with Louis.
He sent messages to me. I was to join him in Cherbourg with the children.
England was peaceful, and Robert of Leicester and Richard de Luci were capable of firm governing. So I went.
Henry was delighted with the new baby.
“There is nothing like a bevy of sons to strengthen the throne,” he said.
“Perhaps too many could make trouble,” I reminded him. “Think of your brothers.”
“There you have a point,” agreed Henry. “But my sons will be different. I shall bring them up the way I wish them to go.”
I looked at him steadily and said: “They are my sons also. I shall have a hand in their upbringing.”
He laughed. “Our interests must be as one,” he said. “I would not care to have you as my enemy.”
“Nor I you, my lord.”
Then he kissed me and I was rather afraid that this might lead to the usual encounter, but I eluded him, saying that I had much to which I must attend.
I was all eagerness to hear about his meeting with Louis, and he was only too pleased to tell me.
“Louis does not appear to have changed much since he was your devoted husband. Constance . . . well, she is meek and mild. As different from you, my dear, as one woman could be from another. I’ll swear she does not plague him as you used to.”
There was grudging admiration in his voice and I did not resent his words.
“Did he mention me?” I asked.
“By no means. He skirted over the subject. I saw his eyes on me and I guessed he was thinking ‘What can that fastidious lady see in this coarse creature?’ He seemed to have forgotten that