The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [233]
The weeks began to pass quickly. They were very peaceful, with each day very like another. I surprised myself that I could be happy in such a life, but I supposed it was because I was so tired.
Then I was constantly receiving visitors, and Richard and others wrote to me frequently, so that I was well aware of what was happening in the world outside.
My daughter Joanna had married Raymond of Toulouse. She had met him when she was with Richard on the crusade and had fallen in love with him. That seemed incongruous in view of the conflict which had always existed between our two houses. I wondered whether he was a good choice. Joanna was headstrong and would have her own way; she was more like me than my other two daughters; and Raymond had been married three times before. I was a little concerned, for his record in marriage was not one to inspire much trust.
His first wife, Ermensinda, had died; his second, Beatrice, had been living when he was in the Holy Land. Richard had taken the daughter of the Emperor of Cyprus as a hostage and she had lived for some time with Berengaria and Joanna. Raymond had become so enamored of her that he tried to persuade Beatrice to go into a convent. She was a spirited woman, and her retort had amused me. Yes, she said, certainly she would go into a convent providing Raymond became a monk. However, he was said to have made her life so miserable that she preferred the life of the cloister, and in time gave in; so he married the Cypriot princess.
I am afraid Raymond was not meant to be a faithful husband: he soon tired of his third wife and on some pretext divorced her. That left him free for Joanna. He must have been a very fascinating man to have captivated my daughter, particularly as she would have witnessed his romance with her predecessor. The fact remained that she married him and in a short time gave birth to a son, another Raymond.
I hoped she would be happy. Perhaps, being strong-minded and forceful, she would keep the wayward Count in order.
Alais, now restored to her brother, was married to William of Ponthieu, a vassal of Philip Augustus. Not a very brilliant marriage for a Princess of France, but I supposed it was the best Alais could hope for after her shady past. I thought she might find contentment. Alais was the kind of woman who would make a man happy. She must be if she had been able to keep Henry’s devotion all those years; gentle, docile, ready to submit to her lord in all things. Well, that was what most of them wanted.
Arthur had not come to England. His mother, Constance, would not allow him to do so. She must have been afraid of treachery. I thought she was rather foolish. She was ambitious for her son, and she should understand that, if in time he was to become King of England, he must learn its ways and speak its language. But no, she was adamant.
Then a strange thing happened which brought about that which I had for so long been trying to achieve.
When Richard was hunting in Normandy and riding a little ahead of his party, he was confronted by a man who stood before him and lifted his arms above his head, causing Richard to pull up sharply.
“What are you doing here?” demanded the King.
“I would speak with you,” replied the man.
“Do you know who I am?”
“I do.”
“Who then?”
“King of England, Duke of Normandy and sinner.”
Richard was amused. “You are a bold man,” he said.
“You will need to be bolder when you face One who is greater than an earthly king.”
A religious fanatic, thought Richard. The country abounded with them.
“Repent,” said the man. “Repent while there is time.”
“You are an insolent fellow. Do you know I could have your tongue cut out?”
“Do so, sinner. And remember Sodom and Gomorrah. You will be destroyed if you do not repent . . . destroyed as were the Cities of the Plain.”
The King was angry and drew his sword, but he