The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [78]
The emblem of the place was a wolf. I thought it apt in view of the reputation of the first Count. The name “Blois,” I learned, comes from “Bleiz” which means Wolf in the Carnute and Celtic languages. I had wondered why the first Count had adopted the name and called his castle after that most rapacious of animals, and whether the present Count was trying to follow in his ancestor’s footsteps.
As he led me into the great building, his words sounded ominous. “I shall do everything I can to make your stay here a long one.”
And I thought: I shall do everything I can to make it brief.
I said to him: “You are indeed kind, Count, but I am in great haste to reach my city of Poitiers, and I shall be able to take advantage of your wonderful hospitality for only one night.”
He smiled wistfully but there was a gleam of something I did not quite like in his eyes.
He ordered that the finest bedchamber in the castle be prepared for me and he set them in the kitchen making a meal worthy of me.
So far so good. It was what was to be expected for the Queen of France.
One of the saddlebags containing what we should need for the night was unpacked, and I changed from my riding habit into a velvet gown, and wore my long hair loose about my shoulders. I was rather pleased with the result, for although I was determined to teach the Count a lesson, that did not mean I wanted to diminish my allure in any way.
I quite enjoyed the evening. I was seated at the table in the place of honor. My women, watchful, aware of the situation, were entertained graciously by the knights of the castle. Young Thibault gave all his attention to me. I was gracious to him and accepted his compliments with assumed pleasure. I allowed him to serve me with the food, which was excellent. The minstrels were pleasant, and I really felt I was close to Aquitaine and the old days.
He told me that my visit was the greatest honor which had befallen his castle.
“Oh come,” I said, “you exaggerate.”
“Never,” he declared passionately. “This is the happiest night of my life.”
He was drinking a great deal of wine and pressing me to do the same. It was something I never did, and I was certainly not going to on this occasion for as the night began to pass I grew more and more suspicious.
I told him how I admired his castle and how interesting it must be to remember his ancestors who had lived in it for so many years, especially the founder of the family, the Black Midnight Hunter.
“Oh, he was bold,” he said. “He took what he wanted.”
“There are some like him today. I wonder if you are one, my lord.”
A sly glint in the eyes! Oh, yes, he had plans. And he thought he was getting on very well with me. I let him believe it, the arrogant young fellow. I compared him with my Henry. Surely he could not believe that I would consider him as a husband! His eyes were greedy . . . thinking of me in his eager hands . . . and Aquitaine to follow.
He said he would gladly lay his castle and its contents at my feet.
“You hold Blois lightly, my lord,” I told him.
“Nay, I treasure it beyond my other castles. It is why I would lay it at your feet. Only the very best would be good enough for you.”
“You should be grateful that I do not accept your offer.”
“Ah . . . if you would . . . I should be the happiest man on Earth.”
He is growing a little muzzy from the wine, I thought. He is going too fast. I decided to let him trip himself up.
“Well, Count, have you anything else to offer?”
“This hand,” he said. “This heart.”
I laughed. “That sounds like a proposal of marriage.”
Yes, indeed he was far gone. I saw the light in his eyes. He actually believed that I liked him. His arrogance angered me.
“I have never seen a woman as beautiful as you are, my Queen,” he said.
“I am Queen no longer. You know that, do you not?”
“I know it and rejoice in it . . . for myself, and condole with poor Louis.”
“That is charmingly said. I am also ruler of Aquitaine. You had not forgotten that,