The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [65]
Louis was delighted and there were plenty of opportunities for prayer.
When Eugenius heard that it was our matrimonial difficulties we wished to discuss with him, he was mildly perturbed. But he was one of those men who believe himself equal to any situation and for that reason almost always was.
He said that in such matters there were usually two sides, and it would be an advantage to all, he was sure, if he heard us separately.
I thought that was good sense, for there was much I would not want to say in the presence of Louis. I looked forward to our interview but I knew it was no good trying to explain to a celibate such as Eugenius was—or should be—how I could no longer endure Louis’s inadequacies.
Eugenius had already talked to Louis, and he received me with a show of great kindness as though telling me that, although he disapproved of divorce, he was ready to listen to what I had to say.
First he told me that Louis did not want a divorce, that he loved me as dearly as he had on the day he married me and that he was ready to forget all differences between us and would try to make the marriage the success it had been in the beginning.
I had thought about this a great deal ever since I had known I was to have this meeting with Eugenius.
I knew that it was useless to say that my nature was such that I could no longer endure to be married to a man who lived like a monk. Louis had presumably most gallantly refrained from mentioning my adultery with Raymond, which I am sure the Pope would have deplored and perhaps most certainly then might have agreed to the annulment. I was not sure that I wanted it on those grounds as I wondered that, if it were and I were condemned, would my possessions have been in jeopardy? I was not sure on that point; but I thought it would be unwise to bring up the matter. I had to admit that Louis was not the man to take advantage of such a situation. But perhaps he thought that if my affair with Raymond was brought to light it would reflect unfavorably on him. How could I be sure what was the reason for his silence; but I did believe that Louis would always be an honorable man.
I decided to use the line most likely to win approval from the Pope and at the same time protect myself from scandal.
“Holy Father,” I said. “I have been anxious for some time about my close relationship with the King. We are third cousins and as you know through all the years of our marriage we have been blessed with only one girl. It is the only time I have conceived, and I ask myself, is this due to God’s displeasure because of that close relationship forbidden by Him?”
Eugenius was thoughtful. “The relationship . . .” he murmured. “Yes, there is a degree of consanguinity.” It was the right course to take.
“But,” went on the Pope, “I do not think it insurmountable. There could be a dispensation. It would give me great joy to see you and the King living in harmony.”
“I should always be concerned regarding this closeness between us.”
Inwardly I was smiling. I thought of that entirely intimate relationship with one who was indeed close to me in every way . . . my own uncle. But I dared not think of him now. I had to try to forget him, for thinking of him could only bring me sorrow.
I could see that Eugenius was a little impressed by my suggestion. It was extraordinary that a youngish and fertile woman should have failed to conceive during so many years, and when she did to produce a girl when the country needed a male heir for in France a girl could not inherit the throne. Any other point which I could have brought forward would have carried no weight, I could see. On consanguinity my hopes rested.
Eugenius was thoughtful. “You need children,” he said. “You need a son who will be heir to France. France needs an heir.”
“That is true, Holy Father. You will understand, I know, that my husband is a man who spends more time in prayer and religious contemplation than most men.”