The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [53]
“I never want to leave you.”
“Then you feel for me as I do for you?”
“Yes . . . yes . . . I do. I should be the most desolate woman on Earth if we were parted.”
“Then I am happy. I will show you a little arbor in the grounds of the palace. I will see that we are undisturbed. There we shall be alone and we shall discover how much we need each other. Will you come, Eleanor? Will you?”
I did not hesitate for a moment. “Yes,” I said eagerly. “I will come.”
And that very day Raymond and I became lovers.
He was my uncle. He was married to Constance and I to Louis. But I did not care. I was happy. At last I knew what it was to love and be loved by a man. I could see nothing wrong. It was the shameful fumblings of Louis which disgusted me. This glorious emotion, this unbounded happiness which now uplifted me, made me happy beyond guilt.
I had changed. My women noticed. They said I was more beautiful than ever. Raymond continually told me that. We were in each other’s company whenever we could be.
It was impossible to keep a relationship such as ours secret. When he was present I could not keep my eyes from him. Even he, a man of the world and, I have no doubt, hero of many romantic adventures, must betray his feelings. I was aware of the love in his eyes; the ardent desire must be evident to all.
I knew this was what I needed in my life. It was ironic that I should have found it in this oasis in the heart of the most cruel country I had ever known and with my own uncle.
Louis had become quite repulsive to me. I told myself I could never share his bed again. What a mercy that he was the man he was! I was already thinking of how I could escape from him.
“You could ask him for a divorce,” said Raymond.
“And even so we could not marry.”
“Popes are very amenable to a bribe.”
“And Constance?”
“Ah,” he said. “There is Antioch. But you could stay here. Divorce Louis and you will still be Duchess of Aquitaine. You and I could return now and then to our native land.”
I pictured it. Raymond and I together at the Court of Poitiers, lying on cushions, entertained by jongleurs, singing our songs to each other.
It was an impossible dream. And those visits to Aquitaine? We should have to make the long journeys across hostile country. The idea of doing that again filled me with horror: And how could I go back with my uncle as my lover . . . and would Constance, the heiress of Antioch, allow us to?
But it was pleasant to dream. Sometimes, when I look back, my stay in Antioch seems like a dream . . . a dream from which I had to wake inevitably in time to harsh reality.
In between our bouts of fierce love-making we talked. Raymond took me completely into his confidence and was as frank as he would have been with his most important ministers. He told me of his concern for Antioch and how he planned to strengthen the city. It was the gateway to Jerusalem. Christendom should remember that.
He said: “I am going to put a proposition to Louis and his advisers. Soon he will be talking of moving on. There is no doubt that the whole company is in better health than it was when it arrived. Those who plan crusades do not always realize the need for safe havens on the road to Jerusalem where crusaders can stay for a respite, to deal with their sick and wounded, to replenish their packhorses. It is nonsense to raise such money—much of which is lost on the way and falls into the hands of the enemy—and to ignore the ports of call. Louis should have taken Constantinople.”
“It was suggested by the Bishop of Langres, but Louis was so eager to proceed with the journey to Jerusalem.”
“As I say, there is a lack of foresight.”
“He would believe the best of Manuel Comnenus. Louis believes the best of everyone until something is proved against them. He would not accept the fact of Manuel’s treachery until he saw Conrad himself bleeding and wounded, and heard what had happened from his lips.”
“He must be made to understand. Even here in Antioch we live in habitual fear. We are surrounded by the