Louis unclenched his fists and breathed out hard. ‘When I think of how they have refused me …’

‘If you spend that time in lobbying and making preparations, it is not wasted,’ she said. ‘As to Suger: he is growing old. He would rather not have you away from France, but that is his weakness, not yours.’

‘My mind is made up; I shall go whatever the objections.’ Louis’s face wore the stubborn look she knew so well.

Alienor was thoughtful as she joined her ladies. They were dancing to music and had inveigled some of the younger household knights to join them. Raoul was in their midst, laughing and flirting as usual. Petronella was not with him at court, being in confinement at Arras, soon to bear their second child.

Catching Alienor’s eye, he excused himself and joined her.

‘You make bold in your wife’s absence, sire,’ she remarked.

Raoul shrugged. ‘It is only dancing.’

‘And what the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve over?’

‘I would never do anything to grieve Petronella.’

‘I am pleased to hear it, because if you did, I would have to cut out your heart and the part of you that has offended.’

‘Your sister is full capable of doing that herself,’ he said wryly, and then folded his arms. ‘Did you desire to speak with me other than to warn me off other women?’

She gave him a taut smile. ‘I want you to exert your talents in other directions of persuasion. I would like you to put your mind to swaying the opinion of men who are reluctant to commit to Louis’s project to rescue Edessa.’

He eyed her with sharp amusement. ‘Even if I am one of them?’

‘I doubt that,’ she said. ‘You are shrewd and ambitious enough to know the benefits. Given your years, you may prefer to remain in France with all the advantages that might entail.’

He continued to look amused, but wary too. ‘You are keen to have this project succeed. I understand your desire to help your uncle. You say to me that what the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve over, but perhaps it is true for you also. Does it not concern you that your husband will be absent for two years at the least and facing great danger?’

‘Indeed it concerns me, which is why I desire him to have strength of numbers and support and supplies,’ she replied. ‘He will go whatever the outcome, but I would rather he had the backing of all factions, because how else will he be able to aid my uncle and do all that is necessary?’

‘And just how might it work to my advantage?’

‘I think you know very well, my lord. The King will need trustworthy men to assist in governing France during his absence.’

‘To “assist” whom?’ he asked.

Alienor smiled and extended her hand. ‘Come, dance with me and we will talk.’

Raoul laughed softly. ‘I think I am in more danger now than I was a moment ago,’ he said as he led her into the circle.

A week after the Christmas court dispersed, news arrived from Rome that the Pope had called for France and all the Christian nations to mobilise an army and go to the aid of Edessa. Louis was furious at the timing.

‘If the news had arrived last week, I would have had papal sanction,’ he snarled.

Alienor looked up from the letter she had been dictating to one of her vassals. ‘It will still add to your strength for the summons at Easter. Christmas was a great gathering, but the Easter one will be greater still; and if you take the Cross, you will bring others with you. Now that Rome is involved, many will reconsider. Ask the Pope to send Bernard of Clairvaux to preach at Easter. His oratory is renowned.’ Even though she heartily disliked Abbé Bernard, she respected his ability to whip a crowd into a frenzy.

‘Monks are banned from preaching outside their own monasteries,’ Louis said, but his expression had brightened.

Alienor sniffed. ‘Since when has that ever bothered Bernard of Clairvaux? He may preach humility, he may talk mightily of the sin of pride in others, but the fact is that he loves the sound of his own voice in full flow – and so do others.’

‘You should not say such things about a man so holy,’ Louis admonished.

‘He is certainly holier than thou,’ she retorted. ‘But that is not the point. When the court convenes at Vézelay at Easter, you must ensure you have the tools to stir men’s souls. I shall write to my aunt Agnes at Saintes and to the nuns of Fontevraud and ask them to sew crosses to be given out by all those taking the road to Outremer.’

‘That is a fine idea.’ Louis came over to her and placed his hands on the back of her shoulders. The gesture was almost tender.

Alienor made an effort not to draw away. If she was having fine ideas, it was because the more support she could garner for her uncle Raymond in Antioch, the better, and with Louis safely gone for at least two years, France would be hers.

Alienor watched Petronella gently bathing her infant son in a brass bowl before the hearth and tried not to feel envious. Here was her sister, excommunicated and shunned by the Church, but still able to produce a healthy male child, whereas she and Louis still only had Marie. She had got him to lie with her twice in January, but her bleed had come as usual, and after that, throughout Lent he would not share her bed because it was against Church law. He had spent much of his time either at Notre-Dame or Saint-Denis in prayer, or in organising for the Easter gathering and crown-wearing at Vézelay, to be held a fortnight from now once the court reached there from Paris.

‘I am glad you are here,’ Alienor said. ‘I missed you.’

Petronella lifted the baby out of his bath and wrapped him in a warmed towel. He fussed and protested, sucking on his little fist. Petronella kissed his brow and handed him over to the waiting wet nurse. ‘I am glad too,’ she said. ‘I don’t like Raoul being at court without me.’ Her tone was querulous. ‘There is nothing to do in confinement except wait and sew and pace the room, while he can do what he likes.’ She pouted. ‘You didn’t come this time either.’

‘I couldn’t,’ Alienor replied. ‘I had matters to attend to at court.’

‘So apparently did Raoul.’

Alienor suppressed a sigh of irritation. ‘He is a royal constable, and Louis had need of him and will continue to do so when it comes to mustering for the Holy Land, and then for governing afterwards. His life is the court. You know that.’

Petronella was not mollified. ‘Has he been faithful to me?’

‘How would I know such a thing?’ Alienor demanded, not adding that Raoul had succeeded in hiding his fornication with Petronella when they were right under her nose. ‘I do know he loves you and cares for you. When he heard the news that you had borne a son, he was the proudest man at court.’

‘But he did not come to Arras to see us,’ she said. ‘And he was not here to greet us in Paris.’

‘Because Louis needed him at Vézelay. You will see him soon.’ Alienor clung to patience. Petronella was acting as if this was a great issue, when so much more was at stake. Whether Raoul was faithful or not was a trifling matter. She had made her bed; let her lie in it. ‘He will have a full role to play when Louis is gone, and he needs to prepare for that; as his wife, you should be preparing with him.’

‘As his concubine, you mean,’ Petronella said bitterly. ‘Bernard of Clairvaux made very sure of that.’

‘I have not given up on the matter. You shall have your marriage contract, I promise.’

Petronella tightened her lips into a prim rosebud. Alienor gave up. There was no reasoning with her when one of her dark moods was upon her. Once reunited with Raoul, in Vézelay things would be different. She would shine for him, and the responsibility for handling her would be his. Yet Alienor still felt a duty of care to her sister, because she knew Petronella would never take responsibility for herself.

Louis had spent the first part of his day in prayer in the Merovingian Basilica of Notre-Dame before returning to the palace to dine in the great hall. It was still Lent and the food consisted of fish and bread, and the only seasoning was grey salt.

Alienor was in a quiet mood, as was her sister, and Louis noted it first with approval, and then with growing suspicion, wondering what they might be plotting. He knew Alienor’s way of winding people around her little finger. He had been a victim of her seduction in the past, but he was on his guard now and knew all about her glances, her smiles and little tricks. The way she moved her arm, exposing a glimpse of wrist as she adjusted her sleeve; the emphasis of the manicured fingers adorned by a single rare and beautiful ring. He saw the way she entrapped men and was disturbed and infuriated. During the time Marie was conceived, she had changed her ways and become sober and godly, but of late, she had returned to her earlier patterns of behaviour and dress. Considering that he was about to take the Cross, he found it perturbing and distasteful. What might she do during his absence?

‘I am wondering what to do about the Queen,’ he said later in his chamber to Abbé Suger and his Templar adviser Thierry de Galeran, who was dealing with fiscal matters connected with the pilgrimage.

Suger folded his hands inside his sleeves. ‘In what way do you mean?’ he asked warily.

‘While I am gone. I am wondering what provision I should make for her. I am worried she will foment discord and seek power for herself.’

Suger gave a slow nod. ‘That is a valid concern, sire.’

‘I would have appointed the Count of Nevers as your co-regent and he would have stood up to her, but he is to enter the Carthusian order and will not change his mind. That means I must give more responsibility to Raoul de Vermandois and I do not trust him to stand firm with the Queen, even if in all other ways he is fit to govern. He is too easily swayed by the scent of a woman.’