No. He would never agree. At first I thought Henry was joking. But no. He was very serious about the matter.

Becket came to see me. He told me he was to go to France on this very delicate mission of which I would be aware. I was well acquainted with the French Court and he would be glad of my advice on certain aspects of his visit.

I explained to him that the French Court was more elegant than the English; the French would not be impressed if he traveled without some state. This seemed to please Becket. I had an idea that he was rather fond of ostentation. He liked to assume grandeur. Understandable, I thought, in one who came from humble beginnings.

He asked me about Louis, and I thought back to the days which I had spent with my former husband.

I said: “Louis is a good man at heart. He is timid, no great soldier, no diplomat; there is nothing subtle about him. He should have been a man of the Church, so it may be you have something in common, my lord Chancellor.”

I smiled to myself. I could see no resemblance between them whatsoever.

I went on: “He is as unlike our King as any man could be. You will need to be earnest and show that you are deeply religious. That would win his respect. He will be shocked by your mission. I can hardly believe it will succeed.”

“I shall do my best to make it.”

“He is a man who hates war and cares for his people. He ought to be a good king; but good kings are made of different stuff, for it does not seem necessary for a good king to be a good man.”

He agreed with me and thanked me.

I was interested to see what he made of my advice, and it was with amusement and wonder that I watched the procession depart. Becket was certainly going to make an impression.

It was June and, to my chagrin, I was pregnant once more. Henry was an indefatigable lover. I understood now that I had been foolish to expect fidelity from him. Women were a need in his life. Although I could now regard him dispassionately, he still attracted me physically more than anyone I had ever known ... even Raymond. I found him irresistible, as I believe he found me. But it was different from those early days when I had loved him. I did not anymore. I just had need of him; and that this intercourse should have led to another pregnancy, and so soon, was a source of irritation to me. It was ironic that during the first years of my marriage to Louis I had longed to conceive; now I could not stop doing so.

I had three months to go and was getting unwieldy.

Becket’s entourage was very grand indeed. The procession was led by his servants, who walked in groups of ten or twelve singing as they went; then came his huntsmen with their greyhounds and other dogs, and after that six wagons containing his bed and other furnishings, and two wagons which had been packed with flagons of the best English ale, which he proposed to present to the French. Each wagon was drawn by five horses, all of them magnificent, with mastiffs to guard them. There followed the packhorses on each of which sat a monkey to create a comic effect. Then came the squires with their falcons and hawks, followed by the gentlemen of his household; and finally, in all his glory, the Chancellor himself.

And how he reveled in it.

I wondered what effect he would have on Louis. It might not be the way to win him over, but I was sure the French would be impressed by all the show. Accustomed to Louis’s somber appearance they would say to themselves: If this is the Chancellor, what must the King be like?

I wished I could have seen Becket’s arrival in Paris. I should so much have enjoyed seeing him riding through the streets. I heard later that Louis entertained him in royal fashion and that Becket retaliated by giving an even grander banquet for Louis. Years later I heard the visit referred to, and one item remains in my memory still. It was that Becket paid one hundred shillings for just one dish of eels.

Once again I marveled at this intimacy between him and the King. They were so different—Becket reveling in that ostentation for which Henry had no desire whatsoever.

But there was some magic about Becket for he achieved what I had thought to be impossible. He made Louis see that a marriage between my son and his daughter could be feasible.

Henry was delighted. He came to me in a state of enthusiasm.

“He has done it,” he said. “I knew he would. Only Becket could have brought this off. I shall leave for France at once. I shall get this thing settled.”

His eyes were shining. I could see that he believed the crown of France was within his grasp.

While he was away my child was born. I had three sons now—Henry, Richard and this new one, Geoffrey.

I recovered quickly but I had made up my mind that I was going to have a respite from childbearing. I was tired of all those weary months, and then, when the child was born, almost immediately I was expecting another.

Here I was confined to my apartments while exciting events were taking place in the world. Then I hated to be in one place for long. I started to pine for Aquitaine and knew that it was not good for me to be absent for so long. I was the ruler of Aquitaine; they would not accept Henry. They were even more suspicious of him than they had been of Louis. At least Louis had been ineffectual. None could say that of Henry.

I had made my son Richard heir of Aquitaine. The eldest, Henry, would, of course, have England; the new Geoffrey I supposed Anjou. There was territory enough for them. And if everything went as Henry planned, young Henry would have France as well.

I knew how Henry’s mind worked. He would wring the utmost advantage from this match. He had talked to me often of the Vexin, that buffer state between Normandy and Louis’s kingdom; and I had seen the acquisitive gleam in his eyes. If he could get control of the Vexin he could feel that Normandy was considerably safer than it was at this time. He longed for the Vexin and I knew he was going to ask for it as Marguerite’s dowry.

I imagined Henry’s meeting with Louis. Louis must have schooled himself. I wondered whether the thought of Henry and me together came into his head. The puritanical often suffer from acute imagination in these matters, I believe. He would be most uncomfortable and obsessed by his visions. Poor Louis. Did he in his heart feel reproachful toward God for not making better arrangements for the procreation of the human race?

Henry would go to Paris in a manner entirely different from that employed by his Chancellor. I pictured him in his short cape and simple jacket—no concessions from Henry—riding his horse magnificently—he and his horse always looked as though they were one—his gloveless, chapped hands unashamedly exposed. “Is this the King?” the people would ask. “How different he is from his Chancellor.” But there would be no mistaking the regality. Henry could not hide that if he tried. I imagined that proud head, leonine and tawny—a King to respect and fear.

Louis and his Constance received him graciously. Henry of course could put himself out to be charming when there was much to be gained. He would show his erudition; his conversation would be witty and very much to the point. Perhaps I should not have been surprised that, between them, he and Becket should manage to get what they wanted from Louis.

On the marriage of Marguerite and Henry, the Vexin should form part of her dowry. The poor child was only a year old, so Louis had a long time before he need relinquish his hold on that important territory.

Henry remained in France. He would not leave it until he was sure it was safe to do so. Meanwhile he was stabilizing his friendship with Louis.

He sent messages to me. I was to join him in Cherbourg with the children.

England was peaceful, and Robert of Leicester and Richard de Luci were capable of firm governing. So I went.

Henry was delighted with the new baby.

“There is nothing like a bevy of sons to strengthen the throne,” he said.

“Perhaps too many could make trouble,” I reminded him. “Think of your brothers.”

“There you have a point,” agreed Henry. “But my sons will be different. I shall bring them up the way I wish them to go.”

I looked at him steadily and said: “They are my sons also. I shall have a hand in their upbringing.”

He laughed. “Our interests must be as one,” he said. “I would not care to have you as my enemy.”

“Nor I you, my lord.”

Then he kissed me and I was rather afraid that this might lead to the usual encounter, but I eluded him, saying that I had much to which I must attend.

I was all eagerness to hear about his meeting with Louis, and he was only too pleased to tell me.

“Louis does not appear to have changed much since he was your devoted husband. Constance ... well, she is meek and mild. As different from you, my dear, as one woman could be from another. I’ll swear she does not plague him as you used to.”

There was grudging admiration in his voice and I did not resent his words.

“Did he mention me?” I asked.

“By no means. He skirted over the subject. I saw his eyes on me and I guessed he was thinking ‘What can that fastidious lady see in this coarse creature?’ He seemed to have forgotten that she has a coarse side to her nature. Think of all those adventures in the Holy Land.”

“So you read the thoughts of others?”

“Such as Louis, yes. He would not allow me to bring Marguerite to England, and do you know why? Because he did not want his little daughter brought up in your Court ... even though she is to marry your son.”

“Did he say this?”