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By Root 1744 0

was since he had had his own apartments and was aware that he was soon to be crowned King. He was already giving himself the airs of a king, and Marguerite behaved as though she were Queen. I did not think this a very satisfactory state of affairs, and I was amazed that the elder Henry could not have seen how unwise it was to endow the boy with such ideas of his own importance. He was too young; moreover, he was surrounded by people ready to do him great honor at every turn, thinking no doubt of the power which would one day be his.

I was sure the King did not intend this. He was the King and would remain so until the day he died. He merely wanted to safeguard the throne for his son so that when he himself died there would be a king waiting to mount the throne. The memory of Stephen and Matilda lingered on.

Young Henry did not see it in this way. He was already the little King.

When I told him that his father wished him to go to France, he was dismayed.

“But I do not want to go,” he said.

Certainly he did not and I could understand why. Here he was, the idol . . . almost a king . . . deferred to in every way. Why should he want to go and endure discomforts, riding out to possible war with his father whom he would have to obey?

“Why should I go?” he demanded.

“Because it is your father’s wish,” I told him.

“I do not want to go. I like it here.”

“Of course you do. Here you are treated like a king; there is entertainment in your apartments; you ride out with your subjects around you; everyone defers to you. Kingship is not like that all the time, my son. There are provinces to be kept in order. You have to learn that side of kingship as well as the pleasant side.”

“Why should I have to go now?”

“I tell you, because your father commands it.”

“But I . . .”

“You are his subject, Henry.”

“But I am going to be King.”

“Not yet. And when you are, it will be in name only. There is only one king of this realm, and that is your father. You must remember that.”

“I do not want to be with him.” He came to me and put his arms around me. “I want to stay with you.”

I confess to a thrill of pleasure which I could not help feeling when my children showed their preference for me—which they did fairly frequently. I stroked his beautiful fair hair.

“We cannot always have what we want.”

“He does.”

“He is dedicated to his country. He suffers discomfort for what he feels must be done.”

“He is dedicated to his own pleasure! All last winter he was here with that woman. He stayed at Woodstock and Oxford . . . and there she was . . . like the Queen. He does what he wants. Why shouldn’t I?”

“What woman was this?” He was silent for a while. “Tell me,” I said sternly.

He replied: “It was Rosamund . . . Rosamund Clifford.”

“And he was here . . . with her . . . through the winter?” He was silent again.

“Listen to me, Henry,” I said. “I want to know.”

“Everyone in the Court knows. She was here . . . just as though she were the Queen . . . in your place . . . Why should he do what he wants when I . . .”

I was staring over his head. So this was the reason for that period of inactivity. He was here with Rosamund Clifford. Anger swelled up within me. I had known of his infidelities. I had grown used to them, telling myself that they were of no account . . . passing fancies which never lasted more than a day or so. Women . . . just women . . . And he, the restless one, with Becket making trouble for him on the Continent, with his provinces ready to revolt, with justice to maintain in England . . . had dallied at Woodstock and Oxford to be with Rosamund Clifford! Not for just a night . . . but all those months.

This was different from anything that had ever happened before.

I was certain of one thing. I was going to discover the exact relationship between the King and Rosamund Clifford.

Nobody wanted to talk at first. But they all knew. It was a feature in cases like this that everyone knows the intimate details while the one chiefly concerned remains in ignorance.

Gradually I learned the story. The alarming part was that the liaison