The Plantagenet Prelude - Plaidy Jean (книги серия книги читать бесплатно полностью .TXT) 📗

The fact that they were so often together was noticed of course. Courtiers smiled behind their hands. ‘First she tried out the father and now the son. No one can say that our Queen wastes time.’ Geoffrey was powerless to prevent their meetings and in due course the King’s advisers told him that the Queen and the young Duke of Normandy were causing scandal at court.

Louis sent for Geoffrey. ‘I think,’ he said, ‘that it would be advisable for you and your son to leave my court.’

Geoffrey was of the same opinion. He was angry that Eleonore and Henry should be lovers. He would have liked to resume that role with her himself. But when they met she behaved as though they had never been anything but acquaintances, and she certainly found the son preferable to his father.

‘They shall never marry while I live to prevent them,’ he vowed.

It would have been pleasant riding through the countryside if he had not had to leave Eleonore behind. There were however other matters to occupy Henry’s mind.

He was now undisputed Duke of Normandy and that was pleasant to contemplate. If only Eleonore could have forced Louis to divorce her he would be quite content...at the moment.

Geoffrey was determined not to discuss the matter of the proposed divorce. He had said it would never be granted and that put an end to the affair. He would attempt to arrange a suitable match for his son and that should not be difficult for the Duke of Normandy and his prospects would make young Henry a very desirable parti.

The day had grown very hot and they were travel-stained and weary. They were approaching Chateau du Loir when Geoffrey said, ‘Here is a pleasant spot to rest awhile. Let us stay here. Look, there is the river. I should like to bathe in it. That would be most refreshing.’

Henry was willing. They called a halt and the party settled down under the trees while Geoffrey and his son and a few of their attendants took off their clothes and went for a swim in the river.

They shivered delightedly in the cold water which was so refreshing after the heat of the day. They were loath to come out and when they did they lay on the bank talking.

‘Now that you are Duke of Normandy you will be ready to claim your other inheritance,’ said Geoffrey.

‘You mean...England.’

‘I do. The people would welcome you. They rejected your mother it is true and accepted Stephen, but they only did this because she made herself objectionable to them and Stephen was there and, weak as he is, he lacked your mother’s arrogance. They will be ready for you, Henry.’

‘Yes, soon I must go to England.’

‘You must make Stephen understand that you are the heir. He will try of course to give everything to his son Eustace.’

‘Never fear, Father. He shall not do that.’

‘You understand what a campaign like this means?’

‘There have been other campaigns, Father. You may trust me.’

As they talked of England and how Eustace was a weakling, heavy clouds arose and obscured the sun.

Before they could dress there was a downpour. Wet through they returned to their camp.

That night Geoffrey rambled in his sleep. He was in a high fever.

When the news was brought to Henry he went at once to his father.

‘What ails you?’ he asked but Geoffrey looked at him with hopeless eyes.

‘It has come, Henry,’ he said. ‘As he said it would.’

‘You’re thinking of that man’s prophecy. He should be hanged for treason. ’Tis nothing, Father. A chill, that’s all. You stayed overlong by the river.’

‘I am shivering with fever,’ said Geoffrey, ‘and more than that there is knowledge within me that this is the last time you shall see me in the flesh.’

‘I refuse to listen to such talk.’

‘Your concern does you credit, my son. If I am not to depart with my sins on me, you had better send me a priest.’

‘Stop talking so. Have you not had enough of priests?’

‘Methinks I need one to help me to heaven, son.’

Henry sent for a priest. The certainty that he was going to die was strong with Geoffrey. He wanted to talk to his son, explain to him the pitfalls which could entrap a young man.

He himself had not enjoyed a happy married life. He did not want the same thing to befall Henry.

‘It should be a blessing, Henry, and it is often a curse. You should marry a good docile woman, one who will bear you many sons. At least Matilda gave me three. But my life with her, Henry, has been one continual battle. There was never love between us. I was ten years her junior. Never marry a woman older than yourself. She will dominate you.’

‘I would never allow any woman to dominate me, Father.’

‘That is what you may think, but there is a danger. I hated Matilda and she despised me. I was a child. Fifteen and married to a virago of twenty-five who had already been the wife of the Emperor of Germany. Imagine it. My life...our life together was a hell.’

‘My mother is a very difficult woman.’

‘She lost England by her temper. Think of it, Henry. Had she acted differently you would not have had to fight for England. It would have been yours.’

‘Never fear. It shall be mine.’

‘I doubt it not. But your mother has led us a fine dance. Her father grew to understand her. But he was determined that you should inherit the throne. He used to call you Henry the Second of England.’

‘That is what I shall become.’

‘It must be so.’

‘Doubt it not. No man shall put his will in the way of mine. No one.’ And he thought: That means you, too, Father. For I shall be King of England and Eleonore shall be my Queen.

‘Beware of priests, Henry. They will seek to govern you. You stand for the State, and the State and Church are struggling for supremacy now as they ever did.’

‘I know it well and will have no masters. None,’ declared Henry.

‘I say goodbye now, my son. Bernard’s prophecy is coming true. A pig killed the son of the King of France and a dip in a river killed the son of Fulk of Anjou; and both prophesied by Bernard.’

‘Heed not such prophecies, Father. You invite death by believing them.’

‘Nay, my son. Death is in this room. Can you not sense his presence? Farewell. You will rule wisely. Marry well and soon, and get fine sons. A man needs sons.’

Geoffrey Plantagenet lay still and by the morning he was dead. Bernard’s prophecy had come true. Riding to his mother, Henry thought of what this would mean to him. He was master of great possessions and one obstacle to his marriage had been removed by death. He was only eighteen years of age. He could be patient a little longer.

That indomitable priest, the Abbe Suger, whom Louis the Fat had instructed to guide his son, was no longer there.

His passing was deeply mourned by the people for all knew him to have been a good man, and he was buried with great pomp at Saint-Denis. After the funeral Eleonore knew that now nothing could stand in the way of her divorce. It was only a matter of getting agreement from Louis. He was weary of the argument. Perhaps he too was beginning to be reconciled to a parting. Perhaps he realised that he would be happier married to another woman, for marry he must, since he still had to get a male heir.

Eleonore was not the woman for him. Although he might divorce her on grounds of consanguinity everyone knew that he could have done so for adultery. Her reputation was well known. There had been many to witness her light behaviour during the crusade and the names of the Plantagenets, father and son, were mentioned in connection with her.

Eleonore cared nothing for this. She was still beautiful; nor was she old; she would have many childbearing days ahead; moreover she was the richest heiress in Europe.

With the opposition removed by the hand of Death, Louis’s resistance did indeed crumble. It was no longer a question of whether there should be a divorce but on what grounds.