Виктория Холт - The Courts of Love: The Story of Eleanor of Aquitaine

We were riding along merrily when in the distance I saw a figure—a lonely one this time.

“It seems,” I said, “that we have little to fear from one rider. I wonder who it is and why he rides with such urgency. I believe he is looking for us.”

This proved to be the case. The young man pulled up his sweating horse, leaped to his feet and knelt before me.

“My lady,” he stammered, “I come to warn you. You are riding into danger.”

“From whom this time?” I asked.

“From one who calls himself my master—Geoffrey Plantagenet.”

I cried: “The brother of the Duke of Normandy!”

He nodded. “There is an ambush a mile or so from here. Because of your friendship with my true master, I was determined to warn you.”

“Who is your true master?”

“The Duke of Normandy. I served him well and would do so again. He gave me over to the service of his brother and I have never been happy since.”

“I see. So Geoffrey Plantagenet would waylay us. For what purpose?”

“He plans to marry you, my lady.”

“Indeed? They say these Plantagenets are the spawn of the Devil.” I smiled. That applied to Henry, too. So his little brother Geoffrey thought to trap me, Geoffrey the ne’er-do-well, the brother whom Henry despised.

I looked at the young man. I had learned to judge people and I trusted him. The recent experience with Thibault had sobered me considerably. There would be other upstarts who thought they could abduct me, perhaps even rape me and force me to marry them, just to give them possession of my rich duchy. It was the well-worn way in the past for gaining coveted lands. But these little men had not the gift for it.

I said: “I believe you. You will ride beside me and lead us away from the ambush.”

So he did, and it was a pleasant experience for me because not only had I foiled the ambitions of Geoffrey Plantagenet but I was able to talk of my lover to one who knew him well.

There was no doubt that he idealized Henry. I was to discover that Henry had a certain quality which bound men to him. He was a born leader and never in the years to come did I doubt that.

The young man had been heartbroken when he had been assigned to the weak brother. He did not wish to serve Geoffrey Plantagenet, who was jealous of Henry and hated him. Their father, realizing the worth of Henry and the worthlessness of Geoffrey, had left the younger son only three castles.

“His father was a wise man,” I said.

“So I think, my lady, and when I heard that there was a plot to abduct you and force you to marry Geoffrey, I knew that was not what my lord Duke of Normandy would wish.”

“How right you were! I am grateful to you. I promise you that you shall stay in my household, and I think it very likely that I shall be able to persuade the Duke to give you back your place in his.”

How fortunate I was in that loyal servant of Henry’s. When we reached Poitiers in safety, the first thing I did was to send the young man with a message to Henry to tell him that I was in my capital city, awaiting the coming of my bridegroom.

What joy to be home! I should never feel toward any other place that which I felt for my native land. The people welcomed me. They rejoiced in the divorce. They had never liked to feel they were under the yoke of France.

They shouted their greetings; they cheered me. “Now Aquitaine will be the land of song again,” they said.

It seemed the whole world knew of the divorce. That troubled me not at all, but I did realize that my marriage to Henry must take place soon, for I had an idea that Louis would do everything he could to prevent it. The last husband he would have wanted for me would have been Henry. He would think, as all his ministers would: Anjou ... Normandy ... Aquitaine ... that would make Henry almost as powerful as the King of France; and if he succeeded in taking the crown of England, he would be one of the most powerful rulers in Europe.

Louis, therefore, would be urged to prevent our marriage, which he might be able to do, because until Henry was King of England he was Louis’s vassal.

I wanted no hindrances. There had been enough of those. What I wanted was the ceremony to be over quickly. I wanted to be Henry’s wife at the earliest possible moment.

How wonderful it was to be once more in the Maubergeonne Tower. Memories of my grandfather came back to me. I thought: This will be once more the Court of Love.

I was a little pensive, for somehow I could not imagine Henry sitting on a cushion singing ballads. He never sat when he could stand; he was restless, a soldier, not a poet but a man of action. He was not gallant like my grandfather who had always known how to turn the gracious phrase; after all, he had been a poet of some standing. Henry was curt almost to the point of brusqueness; he did not pay compliments; one deduced from the intensity of his love-making that he found one desirable.

I would have to adjust my ideas to suit this most exciting of men, and this was what I would do. But even in the very depth of my obsession for him, I knew that I should always be myself, and that could not change for anyone ... not even Henry.

There was a great deal to do. The French officials had left now, to the joy of the people. Aquitaine was mine to rule, and I must set about the task without delay. It was good for me to have so much to do, for the waiting was irksome. I appointed my advisers; there were many meetings with them. They must all swear fealty to me once again for I was now solely Duchess of Aquitaine in my own right and not Queen of France under the King.

I knew Henry would come as soon as he could. He would understand the need for speed. He wanted this marriage as much as I did. I would not allow myself to ask the question: Is it me he wants or Aquitaine? She was my rival, this beautiful country of mine. No one could assess me with her; but together we were the most desirable partie in Europe. I told myself I would not have had Henry indifferent to my possessions. He would have been a fool if he had been, and I was not a woman to tolerate fools.

Do not question, I admonished myself. Accept ... and you will be the happiest woman on Earth.

At last he came. What a day that was! I saw his party in the distance, for I was ever watchful. So I was in the Courtyard to greet him. He leaped from his horse and lifted me in his arms, and I thought: This is the happiest moment of my life.

We must be alone together. We must make love. It had been so long that I had forgotten how exciting it was. He had arranged the wedding, which must take place without delay. He would not delay in any matter, I was to discover; and the wedding was no exception.

He was amused, guessing what a storm it would raise.

“At last you are free,” he said, “because of your close relationship with Louis. What of our relationship, my love?”

“I know,” I answered. “We are both descended from Robert of Normandy.”

“And not so far back! You and I are more closely related than you and Louis. There is a joke for you.”

“I know. I know.”

“And what will the King of France say when he hears you are married to me?”

“He will say ... or his ministers will: ‘Anjou ... Normandy ... Aquitaine and possibly England.’”

“That is just what they will say, and they will be wrong with their ‘possibly England.’ It is going to be ‘certainly England.’”

“Of course.”

“I care not two bad pears for what Louis thinks.”

“Nor I. So why do we concern ourselves with him?”

“We shall not, though he could stop us if he tried. It’s this matter of suzerainty. So let us get the deed over with ... quickly. That is my wish. Is it yours?”

“It is. Oh yes, it is.”

“Then so shall it be. We do not want a grand ceremony. I should not in any case. I hate prancing about in fancy costume like a play-actor. You will have to take me rough like this.”

“I’ll take you as you are,” I said.

“And you, my love, will have to be the elegant lady ... but you are that without effort so I will accept it.”

And so we talked and planned; and on that May day of the year 1152 in my native city, without the pomp and ceremony which is usually such an important part of the proceedings when people like Henry and myself are united, we were married.

It was a wonderful day—less than two months after the divorce for which I had so craved—and I was happy.

We had a little respite before we should be caught up in what must inevitably follow. They were exciting days which passed all too quickly. I had been carried away by the magnetic and overwhelming personality of this man; I had thought of little else but him since I had first seen him. I knew he was a great man, and my instinct told me that his life would be eventful and triumphant. I had known soon after I saw him that, above all things, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

During those days I began to learn something of the man beneath the faade, and gradually the true Henry began to emerge.

THE TWO WEEKS WHICH followed my wedding were the most exciting, surprising and revealing I had ever known. I was idyllically happy. I had the man I wanted. But it became clear to me during the days after our wedding that I had a great deal to learn about my husband. When there is such an all-consuming physical passion as there was with Henry and myself, although one seems to grasp in an instant that there is complete sexual harmony, one can be quite ignorant about the person involved. Blinded by physical demands, one ignores characteristics which would be obvious in others.