The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [84]
He was incensed. He and I had been divorced because of the closeness of our relationship and I had immediately married someone who was even closer. It was a blatant disregard for decency, the Church and the crown of France. Why, when it had been suggested that my elder daughter should marry Henry Plantagenet, this had been rejected because of the closeness of their blood, and now I, the mother, had the effrontery to marry the man myself.
The marriage must be dissolved at once.
Henry and I laughed at the idea. In our eyes, we were ideally suited and nothing on Earth was going to separate us.
We heard that, shocked beyond measure by this “incestuous union,” many of the French nobles were assembling at Court. Naturally, rejected suitors such as Geoffrey of Blois and Geoffrey Plantagenet raged in their indignation—although why the latter should complain of the blood tie between his brother and me when he was ready to commit the incestuous sin himself needs a little explanation.
The fact remained that they were gathering against Henry.
A messenger arrived at Poitiers. As Louis’s vassals, Henry and I were to present ourselves to him to answer the charges against us.
Henry snapped his fingers at that. “Louis will have to stop thinking of me as a vassal,” he said.
But when he had news from his spies that Louis was planning an attack, he was alert. He was not sure where the attack would come from. Aquitaine would be faithful, we knew; but Normandy was less secure. His brother Geoffrey was a traitor and there was nothing he would like better than to see Normandy wrested from Henry, of whom he had always been intensely jealous.
“I must go to Normandy without delay,” said Henry. “You will be able to hold Aquitaine.”
I knew he was right. The honeymoon was over.
This was the kind of life to which I must become accustomed. I must not complain. Now it was my task and great desire to prove to him that he really could rely on me in all things.
So we said goodbye and Henry rode away. I must fortify my castle and make my people aware of the French threat.
They were loyal to me—the more so because Henry was not here. They made it clear that they would fight for me, their Duchess, for I was their ruler, but they did not owe the loyalty to my consort that they owed to me.
I accepted that. In a way I was pleased by it. I had learned enough of Henry to know that he considered himself the master of all about him, and that included me. That was something I should have to teach him was not the case. I would do it gently, of course, but no man, not even Henry, was going to subdue me.
In our passionate moments he had murmured that he had never known a woman like me. He would have to remember that. No matter what power he had had over members of my sex in the past, no matter if it was the way of the world that men should rule, it should not happen with Eleanor of Aquitaine.
So in my fortress I waited while a watch was kept for the approach of the French.
Nothing happened. I knew Louis’s reluctance to go to war and I am sure that a war against me would have an even greater repugnance for him. I heard he had turned his forces toward Normandy and there was no sign of hostility toward Aquitaine.
I thought a great deal about Louis’s campaigns. Had there ever been one which was successful? It was hard to remember. Poor Louis, doomed to failure. What hope had he against a shrewd strategist like Henry?
News came of the progress of the battle. Henry was winning everywhere. I was amused to hear that his truculent little brother Geoffrey had now lost the three castles which had been left to him and caused such a grievance.
It was not long before Louis and his pathetic attempts at war were completely routed. Henry was victorious: Normandy was safe; and Henry returned to Poitou.
How happy we were to be together!
“It is good that this happened,” said Henry. “It will teach Louis a lesson. He will not wish to meddle in my affairs again in a hurry.”
He was delighted with all I had done. I could see that he thought our marriage a real