The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [156]
“What do you mean? The boy will do as I say.”
I shrugged my shoulders and turned away. He strode toward me and gripped my arm.
“You are turning Richard and Geoffrey against me,” he accused.
I wrenched myself free. “No, Henry,” I said, “you are turning them against you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at yourself. Are you a good family man? Your wife will have none of you. You have indulged yourself with prostitutes. Your bastards are legion. You even set your mistress up in the palace in place of your Queen. My people of Aquitaine will not have you. You can take your laws and disciplines elsewhere as far as they are concerned. And now you complain that your sons do not fall down and worship you, and young Henry, whom you have made a king, is asking for more than a golden crown. Did you think to bind your children to you with lands and castles? I say, you do not know people.”
“You talk nonsense.”
“Nonsense to you, Henry, would be good sense to some. We shall wait and see.”
“You always brought trouble. I was a fool ever to take up with you.”
“Aquitaine you thought worth it.”
“And England for you.”
“I care nothing for England. I care only for my children.”
“So you have become the good mother, have you?”
“Ever since my children were born, I have been the good mother.”
“You were certainly the fruitful one.”
“An excellent thing in queens, is it not? I will tell you something: I know our son Henry. He is very young. He should never have been crowned in his father’s lifetime. But you did not consult me. You did not consult me over the appointment of Becket to the archbishopric of Canterbury. Nor would you listen to your mother . . .”
His face was scarlet with rage. I thought: He is going to fall down and bite the hangings. I did not care if he did.
I went on: “No. You knew best . . . so you thought. But let us not brood on past errors. Let us look ahead. You have made him a King. Now he must be treated as one. You cannot send him back to the schoolroom. Give him a little power. Keep the reins on him but do not treat him as a child.”
“Give him power! Let that young know-nothing ruin my kingdom!”
“He was at the head of affairs while you were in Ireland.”
Henry laughed. “You know that not to be so. He had no power whatsoever. As if I would leave an untutored boy to govern England. Everything was left to the justiciars and de Luci. That is what he complains of. That is what angers him now that he has ideas beyond his capacities.”
“But don’t you see? You gave him a grand coronation. He has been crowned with Marguerite. You cannot expect him to remain as he was.”
“He is worthless. He thinks of nothing but enjoying life. It is all sport and banquets . . . fine clothes . . . hunting and hawking. He learned that from you. I have told him that is not kingship. He has much to learn before he can take part in government. I had high hopes of him once. He seemed to be shaping well.” His eyes narrowed. “Then he was with you. He was there in that Court with the troubadours of yours . . . those lily-livered poets who have no thought beyond turning a pretty verse. You have done this. You have ruined him . . . as you are ruining the others.”
“It is you who have ruined Henry with your crowning.”
“Nay, he would have been well enough . . . but he has ideas of a fancy Court with men parading themselves like peacocks, and the most important thing in life to make love to women through pretty verses.”
“Unlike his father, making love among the hay or in frowsty tavern wenches’ beds.”
He laughed again. “You give too much importance to these little things.”
“Not as much as you obviously gave, considering your numerous illegitimate children scattered all over the country.”
“Have done. You are of an age now to have finished with jealousy.”
“Jealous! Of you! I am glad to be rid of you. I would rather die than share a bed with you.”
“Never fear. You will not be forced to make that grand gesture. Your life is safe from me . . . as is your body.”
“I am glad of that.”
“And listen to me. I do not want my sons Richard and Geoffrey