Petronilla and I talked constantly of what would happen next. Perhaps it was rather soon after the death of my father for there to be all this excitement about a wedding, but the circumstances were unusual. I was a girl of fifteen and therefore in need of protection, and the King of France had decided to waive convention and act as good sense commanded him.

We were often at the tower from which we had a good view of the road. We expected to see signs of the French cavalcade at any moment. When I was Queen of France, Petronilla reminded me, she would be with me. I assured her that was a promise I intended to keep. She was too young as yet to be married and it was only to be expected that I should want to keep her with me and choose her husband for her.

So we talked as we watched and waited, and one day our patience was rewarded, for we saw in the distance a glittering company approaching. Pennants waved in the wind and from far off came the strains of music.

As we watched, a messenger came riding up. It was the Archbishop Geoffrey du Lauroux, whom my father had made my guardian while he was away. I went down to greet him, Petronilla beside me as usual.

“The French are approaching, my lady,” he told me. “We must welcome them. The Prince is with them and I think I should bring him to my palace. A meeting between you must be arranged without delay.”

I agreed that this should be and he went off immediately.

Petronilla and I could not contain our excitement. Soon I should see my prospective husband. We went up to the top of the tower from where we could see the French camped close by. Their tents and pavilions made a colorful show with the banners displaying the fleurs-de-lys. It was as though an army was encamped there.

It is a never-to-be-forgotten moment when one is presented to a man never seen before and who is to be one’s husband.

Poor Louis; knowing him so well now, I realize he was far more nervous than I. I try now to analyze what I felt then. Was I disappointed? In a way. He was no bold knight like those of whom I had heard so frequently in the songs of the Courts of Love, and scarcely a romantic figure. There was something rather timid about him. While that irked me in a way, for perhaps I had dreamed of a masterful lover, in another way it pleased me for I knew at once that I should be able to lead him the way I wanted him to go.

He was tall, fair-haired and blue-eyed, with rather pale skin, and there was little animation in his face. I suppose he was about as different from me as any person could be from another.

I had discarded my wimple and wore my abundant dark hair loose about my shoulders; it was too beautiful to be hidden. I had dressed with care in a blue gown with long, wide, hanging sleeves, a little demure yet seductive. The color suited my dark eyes and olive skin.

The Archbishop stood there like some recording angel. I was sure he disapproved of my flowing hair. But there was so much that good man disapproved of.

Louis bowed. I curtsied. I spoke first: “Welcome, my lord, to Aquitaine.”

“It gives me great joy to greet you,” he replied. “May I present my commanders, Count Thibault of Champagne and Count Raoul of Vermandois.”

I turned to the two men who accompanied him. Count Raoul was very attractive; his eyes betrayed his admiration for me in a manner to which I was accustomed, but it was none the less welcome for that. I had heard of him. He was the Seneschal of France and the King’s cousin, a man of great importance at the Court of France. I thought how differently I should be feeling if he had been the prospective bridegroom instead of Louis.

And there was Abbot Suger—a little old man, another of those who frowned on all that was merry.

The Archbishop glanced at Suger and said: “Perhaps the Prince and the Duchess would care to talk together.”

As Louis said nothing, I replied that we should.

The Archbishop nodded, and drawing the others to a far corner of the room, he invited them to sit down. They would not leave us. That would be quite out of the question. Did they think that Louis would attempt to rape me? I looked at Louis and wanted to laugh, but he saw no humor in the situation.

I took him to a window-seat and there we sat side by side. The whole room separated us from the other little party—and this was as near to being alone together that we should get before we were married.

“You had a long and arduous journey, my lord,” I said.

He stammered: “Yes ... we had. The heat was so intense that we were forced to travel by night.”

“And sleep by day?”

He nodded. I could see that he found it difficult to stop looking at me. I was pleased for I was sure that he found me attractive.

“It must have been slow progress traveling with so much. It is like an army.”

“There ... there were the packhorses carrying the tents and provisions and cooking utensils. Yes ... it was like an army. It has taken us most part of a month to get here.”

I leaned toward him smiling. “I hope you will find the journey worthwhile.”

He stammered: “Oh, yes ... yes ... indeed.”

Poor boy. He did not know how to pay compliments. But somehow I liked him for that. In fact I was liking him more every minute. There was a rather charming innocence about him.

He said: “I ... I have come to ask your hand in marriage.”

“I know. I was expecting you.”

“I trust that I shall be fortunate enough to please you.”

“And I you.”

“You ... you are beautiful.”

“Oh, did you expect some horrid creature with bad teeth and a squint?”

“No, I had heard that you were beautiful.”

“And you thought that all prospective brides are said to be that?”

A faint smile touched his lips. “That is so,” he said. “But you are really beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “I am sure we shall like each other.”

He looked very relieved.

I said: “Tell me about the Court of France.”

“I hope soon you will see it for yourself.”

“I wonder if it is anything like our Court here. Do you like music?”

“Yes.”

“Then that is something we both like.”

“I ... I have only been at Court for a few years. Before, I was with the Abbot Suger at St. Denis. I was going into the Church but my brother ...”

“Yes, I know. He was killed by a pig.”

“It changed my life.”

“Think of that. But for a pig you would not be sitting here today.”

“It is God’s will.”

“I suppose one could say that of anything.”

The Abbot Suger and the Archbishop had risen simultaneously. The tte--tte with my future husband had gone on long enough for propriety. I felt rather annoyed that I should be told what I might and might not do. That situation should soon be rectified, but this was not the occasion to show my irritation. I wanted to create a good impression on Louis, so I dutifully rose and said au revoir to him and the rest of the company.

Then I went to Petronilla, to tell her about my first encounter with my bridegroom elect.

“He looks mild,” she said.

“How do you know?”

“I peeped down when they arrived. I had a good view. He hardly looks like the man I should have expected you to marry. I thought at first that it was one of the others ... and I quite envied you.”

“Which other?”

“There were men with him.”

“Do you mean the Abbot Suger?”

Petronilla was overcome with mirth.

“You know I didn’t mean him. Abbot Suger indeed! He looks such another as the grim old Archbishop. I mean the handsome one who was presented to you.”

“Do you mean Thibault of Champagne or Raoul of Vermandois?”

“The attractive one.”

“They were both attractive.”

“One was especially so.”

“What a lot you noticed!”

“One would be blind and insensitive not to notice that one.”

“Are you sure you did not mean Louis?”

“Indeed I did not.”

“I think I know. It was Raoul of Vermandois. I must say, he did seem rather attractive.”

“Rather! He was overwhelmingly so. I hope I shall have the opportunity of meeting him soon.”

“Petronilla, you are getting frivolous.”

“I follow the example of my sister always.”

“You must show more respect. Remember, I shall be not only the Duchess of Aquitaine but very soon, they say, the Queen of France.”

“I am looking forward to being there ... particularly if this Raoul is going to be in attendance.”

“I can see I shall have to watch you. And how did you like my Louis?”

“He seemed rather mild ... and very young.”

“And you had eyes only for the charming Raoul. I daresay he is something of a rake.”

“Oh, Eleanor, how can you know?”

“I have a sixth sense about these things. You are a very young girl, Petronilla, and I can see that you will have to be careful. And how can you talk frivolously about your preference for this man when your sister is soon to be cast up on the altar of marriage?”

“It won’t be an unwilling sacrifice. You must tell me all about it. I think Louis looks quite nice in a way. I think you will not have any difficulty in handling him.”

“He is attracted by me. I think he was afraid they were going to present him with some monster.”

“Well, he must have had a pleasant surprise, and you have not been disappointed. This is a happy day for us all.”

She was smiling smugly and I was sure she was thinking about Raoul of Vermandois. I could see that I should have to keep a wary eye on Petronilla. She was growing out of childhood and, like myself, she had been brought up in the Courts of Love.