The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [55]
“We should have died in a holy endeavor.”
I sighed impatiently. “Can’t you see that God is showing us what to do?”
“I doubt God would show you.”
“He showed the Bishop. Remember how he urged you to take Constantinople?”
I noticed Thierry Galeran in the room. He sat so quietly that one was hardly aware of him. I was irritable suddenly. “Can I never be alone with you, Louis?” I said.
“You are alone.”
“What of that . . . er . . . person?”
“Galeran is always here.”
Galeran rose and bowed. I could see the dislike in his eyes. “My lady, it is my duty to protect the King on every occasion.”
“What do you think he has to fear from me?”
He lowered his eyes as though he were afraid to meet mine.
“You may leave me with the Queen,” said Louis. “Wait outside the door.”
Galeran bowed once more and left.
“That creature . . . one can hardly call him a man . . . annoys me.”
“He is a good and faithful servant.”
“You take too much notice of him.”
“Not only is he noted for his strength but his intellect.”
“To make up for his lack of manhood, I dare swear. I do not trust such. Louis, do think about what I have said. Consult with your advisers. I am sure they will agree that the way to Jerusalem must be made safe.”
“Has your uncle been talking to you?” I remained silent. “I know,” went on Louis, “that you are frequently in his company. The whole Court knows that.”
“He is my uncle, Louis. It was years since we had seen each other. Has he not treated us with lavish hospitality?”
“Lavish indeed. We do not need singing and dancing to beguile our evenings.”
“Perhaps you do not, but others might. All of us do not want to spend our evenings on our knees.”
“We are on a sacred journey.”
“Which we could not have continued without my uncle’s hospitality.”
“He owes that to God.”
I was exasperated but I knew it would be no use talking to Louis.
On the way out I saw Galeran. He was standing close to the door. I was certain that he had listened to everything Louis and I had said.
In the arbor, when I told Raymond about Louis’s responses, he said he might be able to arouse in Louis’s advisers an understanding of the need to protect the route and he would appeal to their logic.
“Louis is after all the King,” I reminded him. “If he did not agree that it was wise, they would doubtless do what he ordered.”
“He is stubborn indeed.”
“It is true that he relishes suffering. He has never complained. He even wanted to march overland to Antioch because his men had to. It took some persuading before he joined the ship. Raymond, I don’t know how I shall endure living with him . . . after this.”
“You need not. You must ask for a divorce.”
“On what grounds?”
“Consanguinity. After all, there is a close relationship. That can usually be found even if one does have to go back some way.”
“I must speak to him, Raymond. I will not be dragged away from you.”
“That is something we must avoid at all costs,” he replied.
We always left the arbor separately. Sometimes I went first, sometimes Raymond. Although the whole Court knew that there was a very special relationship between us, we had to observe certain proprieties. Lovers are generally so bemused by their love for each other that they have little thought for the impression they may be giving to others. They hide their faces and think they cannot be seen. Perhaps we deluded ourselves into thinking that the outstanding tenderness and love we obviously had for each other was that which naturally existed between an uncle and his favorite niece.
On that day I left after Raymond, and as I did so I thought I heard a movement in the shrubbery close by. I stood listening. Not a sound. I thought I had been mistaken. Few people ever came this way, and certainly not at this hour.
It was fancy. So I thought then. But of course I was lulled into that sense of security which is often found in lovers.
Raymond called a conference with his advisers and Louis’s. I was present.
Raymond stated his case with clarity. He was a vassal of the traitor Manuel