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

It was an amusing incident and if he discovered her they would laugh about her shadowing him through the maze of trees.

Then it suddenly occurred to her. He had been visiting someone earlier. It must be a woman. From whom else should he have picked up a ball of silk.

A sudden anger filled her. Another light of love. He should not have them so near the royal palaces. She would tell him so if she discovered who his new mistress was.

He was deep in the thicket, and still he was going purposefully on. She realised suddenly that the end attached to his spur had come off and he was no longer leading her. Carefully she let the end of her silk fall to the ground and followed the trail it had left. There was no sign of Henry.

She would leave the silk where it lay and retrace her steps to the Palace. When the opportunity arose she would explore the maze and see if she could discover where Henry had gone.

She was very thoughtful when he returned to the palace for there was about him a look of contentment which she had noticed before.

The next day Henry was called away to Westminster and she declared her intention of staying behind at Woodstock for a while. Immediately she decided to explore the maze.

This she did and found that the thread of silk was still there.

She followed it through the paths so that she knew she was going the way the King had gone. Then the silk stopped but she could see that the trees were thinning.

It did not take her long to find the dwelling-house.

It was beautiful – a miniature palace. In the garden sat a woman; she was embroidering and in a little basket beside her lay balls of silk of the same size and colour as that which had attached itself to the King’s spur.

Two young boys were playing a ball game on the grass and every now and then the woman would look at them.

There was something about the appearance of those boys which made Eleanor tremble with anger.

The woman suddenly seemed to be aware that she was watched for she looked up and encountered the intent eyes of the Queen fixed on her. She rose to her feet. Her embroidery fell to the floor. The two boys stopped playing and watched.

Eleanor went to the woman and said:

‘Who are you?’

The woman answered: ‘Should I not ask that of you who come to my house?’

‘Ask if you will. I am the Queen.’

The woman turned pale. She stepped back a pace or two and glanced furtively to right and left as if looking for a way of escape.

Eleanor took her by the arm. ‘You had better tell me,’ she said.

‘I am Rosamund Clifford.’

The elder of the boys came up and said in a high-pitched voice: ‘Don’t hurt my mother, please.’

‘You are the King’s mistress,’ said Eleanor.

Rosamund answered, ‘Please...not before the children.’ Then she turned to the boys and said: ‘Go into the house.’

‘Mother, we cannot leave you with this woman.’

Eleanor burst out laughing. ‘I am your Queen. You must obey me. Go into the house. I have something to say to your mother.’

‘Yes, go,’ said Rosamund.

They went and the two women faced each other.

‘How long has it been going on?’ demanded Eleanor.

‘For...for some time.’

‘And both of those boys are his?’

Rosamund nodded.

‘I will kill him,’ said Eleanor. ‘I will kill you both. So it was to see you...and it has been going on for years, and that is why he comes so much to Woodstock.’ She took Rosamund by the shoulders and shook her. ‘You insignificant creature. What does he see in you? Is it simply that you do his bidding? You would never say no to him, never disagree, never be anything but what he wanted!’

She continued to shake Rosamund. ‘You little fool. How long do you think it will last...’

She stopped. It had lasted for years. There might be other women but he kept Rosamund. He would not have kept Eleanor if it had not been necessary for him to do so.

She was jealous; she was furiously jealous of this pink and white beauty, mild as milk and sweet as honey.

‘Do not think that I shall allow this to go on,’ she said.

‘The King wills it,’ answered Rosamund with a show of spirit.

‘And I will that it should end.’

‘I have told him that it should never have been...’

‘And yet when he comes here you receive him warmly. You cannot wait to take him to your bed. I know your kind. Do not think you deceive me. And he has got two boys on you has he not! And promised you all kinds of honours for them I’ll swear! You shall say goodbye to him for you will not see him more, I promise you.’

‘You have spoken to the King?’

‘Not yet. He knows not that I have discovered you. He is careful to hide you here, is he not? Why? Because he is afraid his wife will discover you.’

‘He thought it wiser for me to remain in seclusion...’

‘I’ll warrant he did. But I found you. One of your silly little balls of silk led me here. But I have found you now...and this will be the end, I tell you. I’ll not allow it. And what will become, of you, think you, when the King has tired of you?

’Twere better then that you had never been born. Why did you lose your virtue to such a man? You should have married as good women do and brought children to your lawful husband. Now what will become of you? The best thing you can do is throw yourself down from the tower of your house. Why don’t you do that?’

Rosamund stared at her in horror.

‘Yes. I wish to see you do it now.’

‘I could not.’

‘It is best for you. You are a harlot. It is better you were dead. I will bring you poison and you shall drink it. Or I will bring you a dagger and you can pierce your heart with it.’

Rosamund thought the Queen was mad. There was such a wildness in her eyes.

‘Wait...wait,’ begged Rosamund. ‘Wait until the King returns. If you killed me he would never forgive you.’

‘Do you think I want his forgiveness! He is a hard man. A selfish man. A man who will have his way. Go into your house. Think of your sins. I should repent if I were you, and the only way you can receive forgiveness is to go and sin no more. Tomorrow I will come again and by then you will have decided what you are going to do. Tonight say your prayers, ask forgiveness for your harlotry, and tomorrow be prepared to die.’

Eleanor threw Rosamund from her and ran back through the maze of trees. A madness was on her. She hated him. Why should she care so fiercely that he had deceived her? Why did it matter so much? It mattered because this was the woman he wanted. She knew how gladly he would have set Eleanor aside for her.

Back at the palace she shut herself into her bedchamber. She lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling.

She hated Henry and she loved him.

I am ageing and she is young, she thought. Once he cared for me, but now he sees me as an old woman. Did they not shake their heads over us because I am nearly twelve years older than he is? When we were younger it did not seem to matter. I had so much to offer. Would he have wanted me if it were not for Aquitaine? Would he? As much as he now wanted Rosamund Clifford?

For all those years he had gone to her. She could tell the age of the liaison by the age of the boys. And he went to see them and was happy there – happier than he was in his royal palaces!

I will kill her, she thought. I will take to her a phial of poison and force her to drink it. When he comes to see her he will find a corpse. She shall not live to mock me.

Fortunately for Rosamund Henry returned to Woodstock the next day. Eleanor came to him while he was preparing to leave, as she knew now, for that little house in which he had installed his mistress.

‘So you came back early. Were you so eager to make love to Rosamund Clifford?’

He stopped short to stare at her. Caught! she thought with grim satisfaction. She saw the redness come into his eyes. He was now going to fly into one of his notorious tempers because she had found him out.