The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [37]
“He does hate women, my lady,” insisted one of them. “I heard that when he was a young man he broke the ice on a river stream and plunged into the water because he had felt desire for a woman. He was only discovered just in time and nearly lost his life. But they revived him.”
“What silly tales,” I said. “I do not believe any man would behave so.”
“My lady, this is a saint.”
“Surely a man could do God’s work without going to such extremes. God put women on Earth surely for the purpose of procreating the race. It was He who arranged the relationship between men and women, and He presumably made it enticing so that there would be no lack of children. So all this seems nonsense to me.”
They smiled. They were accustomed to my forthright views.
I was rather disturbed though to contemplate the man I had to face.
The ceremony, led by Louis, was most impressive. He was in his element there among the clergy and the monks. He looked ecstatic. I felt almost sorry for him. What a tragedy that he had come to the throne when he would have been so much at peace in the Church.
I was impatiently awaiting the meeting with Bernard, which was to take place immediately after the ceremony. He would be waiting for me in a small room.
We stood for some seconds regarding each other. There could not have been a greater contrast in two people. Perhaps he had expected me to come in somber robes, but I did not. I was not going to make myself out to be what I was not. I knew I looked splendid in my velvet and my jewels, with my gown close fitting at the waist to show off my perfect figure, with the skirt flowing extravagantly to the floor. I wore a jeweled band about my hair. I wished to look my most seductive in defiance perhaps of this man who, when he was young, may have been ready to stifle his desire by plunging into ice water.
He was so frail that he looked as though he were not long for this world. They had exaggerated a little. He was not exactly dirty but I kept wondering about that lousy hair shirt. He had an unhealthy pallor; his hair was white and thin but there was a hint of blond in his beard and I wondered what he had looked like as a young man before the self-inflicted torture of his body had begun.
He was all that I disliked in men and I could see that I was all that he feared in women. Surely this could not augur well for our meeting.
I was remembering words I had heard attributed to him in which he stated his opinion of women. He had deplored their use of ornaments. “Fine clothes and paint might seem to adorn the body,” he had said, “but they are used to the detriment of the soul.”
I sat down and lifting my head high said: “Pray be seated.”
He regarded me in silence for a few seconds and then took one of the chairs. I did not wish to be too close to him, for although the women had exaggerated it was obvious that he had no great regard for cleanliness.
“I wish to speak to you on several matters,” I said.
He bowed his head. I noticed that he did not look at me directly. Did I perhaps turn his thoughts in sinful directions? I hoped so.
I wanted him to work a miracle for me and I had to discover whether this man could help me to have a child. He had prophesied the death of Louis’s brother, Philip; he had held the Host before my father who had crumpled before him. I had to face the truth. There was some spiritual quality in this man. If I did not think so, I should not be here at this moment.
I felt a certain awe which I tried to suppress. I was not sure whether it was due to the man himself or what I knew of him. I thought I would not speak immediately of my problem but of other matters on which I wanted to consult him.
I said: “My sister and her husband are still under the ban of excommunication. It was promised that if we withdrew from Champagne that ban would be lifted.”
“Your sister has no husband.