The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [74]
“What a prospect!” he said slowly. “England and Aquitaine and nights like this together in holy wedlock. Alas, my Queen, you have a husband.”
“I have long been wanting a divorce.”
“And failed to get it.”
“I shall, though. I am determined.”
“On what grounds?”
“Consanguinity.”
He burst out laughing. “And you and I? I doubt not we are as closely related.”
“We will forget that.”
“Yes, let us forget it. All the noble families are connected by blood. It is a good thing. It makes a divorce that much easier when it is wanted. Of course, the marriage could be annulled because of me.”
“We do not wish for that.”
“No, no.” He laughed again. “Consanguinity is best. And do you think it possible?”
“Suger is against it. I know that is because he does not want Aquitaine to slip out of France’s hands.”
“He’s a clever old man.”
“Louis takes his advice on everything, but Bernard hates me. I think he would like to see me leave Louis.”
“He is more formidable.”
“Yes, but Suger is strong and constantly beside Louis. I have been trying for years and I cannot bring him to the point. But I do believe he is beginning to relent. He is a monk at heart and has no feeling for love.”
“Poor fellow! What he misses!”
“He does not think so. He prefers to spend his nights on his knees.”
“But this divorce . . . You and I. I like it. England and Aquitaine . . . together with the most exciting woman in the world. What more could a man ask?”
“Do you think it possible?”
“Of course it is possible.”
“And if I were divorced?”
“You and I would be together. No longer would you be Queen of France. Shall you mind that?”
“I shall rejoice in it.”
“‘Duchess of Normandy’ is not such a bad title. What think you of ‘Queen of England’?”
“That would make me the happiest woman in the world.”
And so we plighted our troth.
Negotiations continued and to the surprise of all Geoffrey of Anjou released Gerald Berlai. He said he had intended to do so from the beginning and that was why he had brought him to the Court of France; but when Bernard had made threats against him, he had become incensed and acted as he did.
Moreover, Henry swore fealty to Louis for the fief of Normandy and was acknowledged as Duke; so what had begun in such a stormy fashion ended in peace.
Louis was very satisfied with the proceedings. He believed that Bernard’s threats of the dire consequences had subdued Geoffrey but I knew differently. The Plantagenets had what they wished for, and that was a truce with Louis which would prevent his taking up arms on Stephen’s behalf.
Meanwhile Henry and I were spending each night together. So deeply was I immersed in our relationship that I did not care if I did betray my secret to those about me. They would discover in any case. It was impossible to keep secrets from one’s ladies. But they would not dare to tattle even among themselves for fear of my wrath, so at night Henry would come to my bedchamber, and there we would indulge in that which had become of the utmost importance to us both.
We were the more desperate because we knew that we should soon have to part. But it would not be for long, I assured him. I was more determined than ever now to have my divorce and I would. Louis would be more intolerable to me after this interlude.
I wanted to be with Henry; I needed him. I was passionately in love with him and he with me. Perhaps he was also a little in love with Aquitaine, and perhaps I did cast covetous eyes on another crown, this time to be shared with the man of my choice. The crown of France—the crown of England. What did it matter? It was the man who was important to me.
It may have been that we each liked what the other had to bring, but that was no deterrent to our passion; and I think that perhaps my nights with Henry were even more exciting than those I had spent with Raymond, for with Henry there was hope of a lasting relationship which there could never have been with Raymond. Henry