Royal Weddings...Through the Ages. Elizabeth RollsЧитать онлайн книгу.
myself momentarily in my enthusiasm to bring these discussions to a pleasing conclusion.’
Though certain that Godfroi and William were thinking of a successful marriage contract that benefited their own lord or lady the most, she was thinking of another conclusion, one that would have Henry in her bed…
‘Your Grace?’ Godfroi said quietly, waiting for her to stir from the lustful reverie that seemed to overtake her when in the same room with the duke. ‘Mayhap if Your Graces take a walk around the garden, William and I could come up with the suitable wording?’
In other words, pray thee leave and let those less involved handle these personal matters.
‘Your Grace?’ she said, looking at Henry. ‘What say you to Godfroi’s suggestion?’
Henry nodded. He never remained still for long and being closed up in this room for these hours must grate on him. The suggestion made him smile and he held out his hand to her.
‘An excellent one, Your Grace,’ he said, leading her to the door. ‘The sun is most agreeable this day and a brief respite would do us all good.’ It sounded so polite, like any other courtier’s expected reply, until he whispered under his to her. ‘They wish to be rid of us both, Eleanor. Let us away before they decide otherwise!’
He took her hand firmly in his, entwining their fingers, and then he ran down the corridor, forcing her to keep pace with him. Their maids and menservants were caught by surprise and were dozens of paces behind them—Henry’s clear intention—when they arrived at the gate of the garden. Laughing and out of breath, she could only allow him to pull her into the garden and then watch as he locked the gates against the rest of them.
Her guards called out to her, always mindful of the dangers that yet existed for her, but she answered them, and soon it was just Henry and her… alone.
‘Walk with me, Eleanor,’ he asked prettily.
How could she refuse such a request when done nicely? She held out the hand he’d released and they walked, though briskly, around the perimeter of the manicured gardens. She loved this one best and would miss it when she went to live in…
‘Where will we live?’ she asked.
‘So you think these matters will be worked out, then?’ he asked, stopping for a moment and then walking again.
‘I have never been to Rouen,’ she said, ignoring his question and continuing as though everything were settled. Because it would be. ‘Is it warm there?’
‘Rouen is a beautiful city, but there are others in Normandy if you do not like it,’ he offered. Now it was her turn to be surprised by such an offer.
‘But it is the seat of your duchy. Surely the duke and duchess should reside there.’
He pulled to a stop and faced her. ‘My mother maintains a household in Rouen.’
‘Is that a warning or an invitation?’
Since the Plantagenets, as Henry’s father called themselves, and the Capets tended to be enemies, Eleanor had had no opportunity to meet the extraordinary woman who had nearly claimed England as her own and now sought it for her son.
‘I think you would find her interesting,’ he explained, the respect for his mother evident in his voice and tone. ‘She has had many interesting experiences similar to yours and you might find her helpful in establishing yourself as the Duchess of Normandy.’
His mother had been the Empress of Germany during her first marriage and from a very young age, much as Eleanor had married and become Queen of France.
‘I would like to meet her,’ she admitted.
Strong women in power were so few in these times when inheritances were more and more going only through male heirs. Eleanor knew that she was in fact only a placeholder for the titles of Aquitaine and Poitou and would relinquish them to a son, if she had any. Though Henry pushed for it, she would not, however, relinquish her rights to those if they married. She had held them through her marriage to Louis and as that relationship ended.
‘There is another similarity between the two of you, Eleanor.’ His voice was lighter, teasing her, and she tried to think of another thing she could have in common with the empress. ‘After marrying older men in your first marriage, you have both taken on the challenge of marrying someone much younger in your second.’
Eleanor laughed then, for Henry leaned in closer and teased, ‘I hope you hold up as well as she did.’
He failed to mention how much his mother hated his father and she hoped that was not something that would also happen between them. The conversation continued with neither of them even questioning that a match between them would not occur.
‘We may spend much of our time moving between our holdings, especially when I am finally successful in claiming my birthright in England. Have you ever travelled there?’ he asked, guiding her to a bench while he stood, or rather paced, nearby.
‘Nay. Many other places but not across the Channel.’
And she had travelled far and well during her lifetime—as far as the Holy Land and through many countries and territories as they returned. Eleanor had seen many wonders, peoples and lands from the very exotic to the familiar. But she’d never gone north to England. As Henry’s wife, she would be expected to visit there and rule with him, once he attained the throne.
‘What is your favourite place in England?’ she asked, trying to learn more about this man she would marry. ‘Other than the battles, of which I have heard a little, when did you spend time there?’
She did something then that she did well—Eleanor listened. Her teachers had taught her that there was much to be learned in both the words chosen and the words left unspoken and now she watched as he became very excited, telling her about his time in England with his uncle, becoming a knight just two years past. He spoke of his teachers and his time in England as a child, spent with his mother’s half-brother, the Earl of Gloucester.
The Duke of Normandy was a passionate man—his plans to claim his birthright, his refusal to bow to the whims of Louis, indeed his willingness to take a path that many could and would call treason, and even just his interests in fighting and hunting and hawking, all spoke of his enthusiastic approach to everything in life. And the manner in which he constantly found ways and opportunities to touch her spoke of his passion of another sort.
When an hour or more had passed, Eleanor sat on a bench in a secluded alcove of the garden. Henry lay with his head on her lap, entwining his fingers with hers as they spoke. She laughed, more than once, at his impertinence and arrogance and she could not remember the last time she’d felt so very light-hearted or was filled with such anticipation about any event in her life.
Though Louis would remain her liege lord for her lands and titles in Aquitaine and Poitou, a marriage to Henry would return her to the same status, perhaps even higher, than her now-former husband and any new wife he might seek. Louis most likely did not wish to do so, though finding a new wife, begetting a male heir, was something his ministers and advisors, both religious and secular, would pursue vigorously. In order not to be shamed by this new social order, marriage to someone equal to or higher than Louis would be necessary.
Eleanor sighed then, realising the political efficiency of this proposed match bore more weight than she had first considered. Much as she’d like to think it could be about other matters or issues, it would not be. She was a woman of rank and privilege and as such would never be free from the responsibility to marry well.
‘That does not bode well for my suit,’ Henry said softly as he reached up and gently moved a few loosened strands of her hair out of her face. He turned his hand and caressed the exposed area of her cheek as he smiled. ‘Is there ought I can do to remove the frown from your brow, Eleanor?’
If she closed her eyes and listened only to the sound of his voice, she could almost believe they were simply a man and a woman. Her biggest concern lay in the most dramatic difference