The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [3]
So all was well. I was the little Queen of the Court. I would sit on my grandfather’s knee and make my quaint remarks which set his beard wagging, implying that he was amused. I was the one who received most of the sugarplums fed to us by Dangerosa.
At this time I heard someone say that the Lady Eleanor could well be the heiress of Aquitaine. That was a great revelation. Aquitaine, that beautiful country with its rivers, mountains, flowers and vineyards, its many castles . . . all would one day be mine! I was a very contented little girl.
And then it happened. My mother had been sick for a long time. Her shape changed; she rested a good deal. There was a great fuss about what they called “her condition.” I was told: “There is going to be another little one in the nursery.”
I naturally thought of another Petronilla—someone for me to mold and direct and who would become my ardent admirer.
The great day arrived. One of the nurses came to me in great excitement.
“What do you think, my lady!” she said. “You have a little brother.”
What rejoicing there was throughout the castle. “Now we have a male heir,” they said.
My grandfather was full of glee; so were Dangerosa and my father.
It was treachery. I was the heir of Aquitaine. But it seemed that, in spite of all the songs dedicated to the glory of women, they were forgotten when a boy was born.
This was the first setback.
I sat on my grandfather’s knee and voiced my protests.
“But you see, little one, men want a leader.”
“I could lead them.”
“Sometimes we go into battle.”
“You don’t.”
“I did . . . when I was a younger man.”
Dangerosa said: “Never mind. Women have their way of ruling.”
My father tried to console me. “You will make a great marriage when the time comes.”
My mother said: “Happiness does not come with great titles, my child, but with the good life. If you marry and are a good wife, that will bring you more happiness than great estates.”
I did not believe her. I wanted to be the heiress of Aquitaine.
But no one could help loving little William Aigret. He was such a docile child; and I still ruled the nursery.
Soon after that my grandfather died and my father became the Duke of Aquitaine.
My grandfather was genuinely mourned. I spent a great deal of time with Dangerosa; she used to tell me stories about him; and it was from her I pieced together the events of his turbulent life. She loved to tell the story of her abduction and how he had come to the castle to talk business with his vassal the Viscount of Chtellerault and as soon as he set eyes on her all thought of business was driven from his mind. I felt I was there during those periods in the castle when they had planned their flight. I seemed to have ridden with them through the forest, she riding pillion, clinging to him as they sped away to happiness. It was very romantic. I did not spare a thought for the poor deserted Viscount and my wronged grandmother Philippa. My sympathies were with the lovers.
Philippa was dead now but in the Courts of Love, which my grandfather had created, their story would be sung for years to come.
The Court changed of course. My father was a very different man. He was not the great lover; he was more of a fighter. At least he was constantly embroiled in some dispute with his vassals. He was quick-tempered and ready to go to war on the slightest pretext; and he was absent a good deal during the years which followed my grandfather’s death.
There were plenty of young people at the castle, for girls were sent to my mother to be brought up as the Court ladies they would eventually become. There were boys too, who must be taught the art of chivalry and horsemanship. We girls had to learn how to embroider and do delicate needlework, which was so much a part of a lady’s education; we had to sing and dance and make gracious conversation; but I was taught other things besides, such as reading and writing. I had shown such an aptitude for learning when it was thought I might be Duchess of Aquitaine that they decided I should continue. I was, therefore, apart from