The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [17]
I agreed that this should be and he went off immediately.
Petronilla and I could not contain our excitement. Soon I should see my prospective husband. We went up to the top of the tower from where we could see the French camped close by. Their tents and pavilions made a colorful show with the banners displaying the fleurs-de-lys. It was as though an army was encamped there.
It is a never-to-be-forgotten moment when one is presented to a man never seen before and who is to be one’s husband.
Poor Louis; knowing him so well now, I realize he was far more nervous than I. I try now to analyze what I felt then. Was I disappointed? In a way. He was no bold knight like those of whom I had heard so frequently in the songs of the Courts of Love, and scarcely a romantic figure. There was something rather timid about him. While that irked me in a way, for perhaps I had dreamed of a masterful lover, in another way it pleased me for I knew at once that I should be able to lead him the way I wanted him to go.
He was tall, fair-haired and blue-eyed, with rather pale skin, and there was little animation in his face. I suppose he was about as different from me as any person could be from another.
I had discarded my wimple and wore my abundant dark hair loose about my shoulders; it was too beautiful to be hidden. I had dressed with care in a blue gown with long, wide, hanging sleeves, a little demure yet seductive. The color suited my dark eyes and olive skin.
The Archbishop stood there like some recording angel. I was sure he disapproved of my flowing hair. But there was so much that good man disapproved of.
Louis bowed. I curtsied. I spoke first: “Welcome, my lord, to Aquitaine.”
“It gives me great joy to greet you,” he replied. “May I present my commanders, Count Thibault of Champagne and Count Raoul of Vermandois.”
I turned to the two men who accompanied him. Count Raoul was very attractive; his eyes betrayed his admiration for me in a manner to which I was accustomed, but it was none the less welcome for that. I had heard of him. He was the Seneschal of France and the King’s cousin, a man of great importance at the Court of France. I thought how differently I should be feeling if he had been the prospective bridegroom instead of Louis.
And there was Abbot Suger—a little old man, another of those who frowned on all that was merry.
The Archbishop glanced at Suger and said: “Perhaps the Prince and the Duchess would care to talk together.”
As Louis said nothing, I replied that we should.
The Archbishop nodded, and drawing the others to a far corner of the room, he invited them to sit down. They would not leave us. That would be quite out of the question. Did they think that Louis would attempt to rape me? I looked at Louis and wanted to laugh, but he saw no humor in the situation.
I took him to a window-seat and there we sat side by side. The whole room separated us from the other little party—and this was as near to being alone together that we should get before we were married.
“You had a long and arduous journey, my lord,” I said.
He stammered: “Yes . . . we had. The heat was so intense that we were forced to travel by night.”
“And sleep by day?”
He nodded. I could see that he found it difficult to stop looking at me. I was pleased for I was sure that he found me attractive.
“It must have been slow progress traveling with so much. It is like an army.”
“There . . . there were the packhorses carrying the tents and provisions and cooking utensils. Yes . . . it was like an army. It has taken us most part of a month to get here.”
I leaned toward him smiling. “I hope you will find the journey worthwhile.”
He stammered: “Oh, yes . . . yes . . . indeed.”
Poor boy. He did not know how to pay compliments. But somehow I liked him for that. In fact I was liking him more every minute. There was a rather charming innocence about him.
He said: “I . . . I have come to ask your hand