Alienor left the bed and went to see to his request. Henry sat up, dried himself with his shirt and took the cup she gave him.

‘Why are you smiling?’ he asked after he had drunk.

‘I was thinking that last time we shared a bed, you could not wait to be out of it and away.’

Henry grinned. ‘That was because it was morning and I had things to do. I did not need the sleep, and both duty and pleasure had been successfully accomplished.’ He sobered. ‘Do not expect me to keep regular hours.’

‘I don’t, but I should know how long you are staying for this time. Do not tell me you have to rush off to Barfleur again?’

Henry shook his head. ‘I have decided to wait until after Christmas. I have plenty to occupy me here.’ He gave her a playful look. ‘I know little of Aquitaine and Poitou save that they are lands of vast resources and changing landscapes. I want to see them; I want to know about them – and about you and your vassals. And you have never been to Normandy. In turn you must familiarise yourself … and meet my mother.’

Alienor’s heart sank at the notion of meeting the formidable Empress Matilda. She intended to find out everything she could about her in order to be prepared. She had learned how to deal with Henry’s father, but a woman of the experience and temperament of the Empress Matilda was another matter entirely. She still bore the scars of her clashes with Louis’s mother, who had made her position as a new wife very difficult. How much of a mother’s son was Henry? ‘Indeed,’ she said guardedly.

‘And to beget heirs, we must be together. I desire sons and daughters of you, as you must desire them of me.’

‘We are certainly doing our best to succeed,’ she said with a smile, but she was thoughtful. She would have to guard against him becoming too familiar with her people even while he would be her sword should she need to curb them.

Henry drank his wine, kissed her once again, and left the bed to dress.

‘Your sister is proving a great help among my women,’ she remarked. ‘She is skilled with a needle as you said she would be, and I enjoy her company.’

‘Good.’ Henry nodded. ‘My father wanted me to do well by her, and she can be put to better use than sewing altar cloths in Fontevraud.’

Alienor eyed him. ‘I would have thought you might have more tender sentiments for an only sister,’ she said.

He shrugged. ‘We sometimes played together as children and she was always at my father’s court for the great feasts of the year, but mostly we lived different lives. She is kin and I acknowledge my duty to her. Doubtless we shall become better acquainted now she is attending on you.’ He raised his glance to her. ‘What of your own sister? She is young enough to leave the cloister and remarry. Do you not wish to accommodate her among your women?’

Alienor shook her head. ‘I do not think that would be wise,’ she said, a pang arrowing through her at the thought of Petronella.

He gave her a questioning look.

‘She is …’ She hesitated. The earlier scandal concerning her sister’s marriage was common knowledge, but Petronella’s fragility of mind was less well known outside the French court and Henry did not have to be told. ‘She is best left in the cloister for now,’ she said. ‘Life at court would be difficult for her. She does not wish to take another husband, and I shall not force her.’

Henry shrugged. ‘As you wish,’ he said, plainly considering the matter of small consequence amidst his own plans. He sat down before the fire and began reading from a pile of correspondence on the trestle. ‘Where to first? Talmont?’ A spark lit in his eyes. ‘I very much want to do some hunting.’

Alienor managed to smile even though her sadness for her sister was a lingering emotion. ‘So do I,’ she said and, donning her chemise, joined him at the trestle.


48

Rouen, Normandy, Christmas 1152

Bleak but intense winter light fingered through the high windows of the abbey of Bec. The air was cold and pure, almost icy. Gold and gems sparkled on crosses and the choir sang a Te Deum as Alienor knelt at the foot of the steps leading to the dais that had been set up in the nave. Above her on a cushioned marble chair sat Henry’s mother, the Empress Matilda. The gown beneath her ermine-lined cloak glittered with dark jewels, and a gold diadem that would not have looked out of place at the palace of Constantinople shone on her brow. It almost seemed to Alienor as if the jewels were wearing the woman. The Empress’s face was lined with the years of strife she had endured in her fight for her heritage, but her bones were hard and strong, and her expression imperious. Having greeted Henry, she directed him to a chair on her right.

Head bowed, Alienor mounted the steps and knelt again to present the Empress with the gift of a gold reliquary in the shape of a sceptre, set with rubies and sapphires. Inside the rod, concealed behind a rock-crystal door, was a sliver of the finger bone of Saint Martial. Alienor said in a respectful but not obsequious tone, ‘My lady, my mother, my queen, my empress. I honour you.’

The Empress accepted the gift graciously, with a look of genuine pleasure and approval. Taking Alienor’s hands between hers, she kissed her, making a formal pledge in return. ‘Daughter,’ she said. ‘You are mine now, and I will do my utmost to protect you and your rightful estate.’ She indicated Alienor to sit in the left-hand chair and the service resumed. Henry sent Alienor a smiling look filled with pride, and Alienor returned it, feeling buoyed up and optimistic.

At the formal meal to acknowledge and welcome Alienor as Duchess of Normandy, the women continued to take each other’s measure. Alienor thought her mother-in-law stiff and formal, but not the harsh termagant she had been prepared to encounter. The Empress was plainly very proud of Henry. There was a particular light in her eyes when she looked at him, but she did not try and oust Alienor from her position – rather she seemed to accept her role as a fitting consort for her eldest son.

‘It is a difficult world for women born to great estate,’ she said to Alienor as they dined on tender beef in pepper and cumin sauce, ‘as you must have cause to know.’

‘Yes, madam,’ Alienor said wryly.

The lines around Matilda’s lips grew more pronounced. ‘I fought with everything I had to keep my claim to England and Normandy alive. Now it is Henry’s task to continue that fight and take the crown that is rightfully his as it was rightfully mine.’ She looked at Henry with intensity. ‘And it is ours to help him in that endeavour.’

Alienor was not intimidated by the Empress’s autocratic tone. Providing Matilda did not meddle in the affairs of Aquitaine or come between her and Henry, she was prepared to keep a diplomatic peace. ‘I will give him all the help he needs,’ she replied.

Following the meal, the family retired to the Empress’s personal chamber for a less formal family gathering. Alienor was reminded a little of Louis’s apartments in Paris because much of the decor took the form of crosses, prayer books and religious objects. Her mother-in-law was devout and paid more than just lip service to God.

She was aware of Henry’s brothers in her periphery. Geoffrey had made his peace and everyone was being civil, but it did not mean Alienor had forgiven him for his attempt on her, or that she could bring herself to like him. If a dog bit you once, you didn’t give it a second opportunity. No one mentioned his bid to abduct her, but the awareness created tension and the atmosphere between Geoffrey and Henry bristled with hostility. William, the youngest, was pleasant enough towards her, but was overshadowed by Henry’s vibrant charisma. It was as if all the parental fires had gone into forging the first bright child, and only the tail end of the comet and the detritus had been left to flesh out the others.

‘You say you did not spend much time with your half-brothers?’ Alienor said to Emma. She was becoming increasingly fond of the young woman, who, despite her quiet demeanour, had a playful side and a keen perception.

Emma shook her head. ‘Only at some of the Easter and Christmas gatherings, and mostly they had no time for me, and – and when they did, I tried to avoid them.’

Alienor raised her brows.

‘I was our father’s only daughter and even if baseborn, I could claim his attention in ways they could not. They would pull my hair and taunt me when they thought Papa wasn’t looking.’ She gave a small grimace. ‘But sometimes he was looking, and then they would be in trouble, and I would have to avoid them even more.’

‘They will tease you at their peril now you are part of my household,’ Alienor said firmly.

Emma flushed. ‘I would not have you think that I am a complainer or a teller of tales – nor that I cannot stand up for myself.’

‘I think none of these things. I am glad of your company, but I protect those who serve me.’

‘I do not want to cause trouble between you and my brother,’ Emma said swiftly. ‘He has been as kind to me as often as he has been unkind.’

‘One does not cancel out the other,’ Alienor replied, but smiled to give Emma reassurance. ‘You have not caused trouble. I well know the ways of men, even if I do not have brothers.’

‘The ways of men?’ Henry arrived at her side and lightly took her elbow. ‘What is this?’ His tone was jocular, but there was a wary look in his eyes.

‘I was asking your sister how it felt to be the only girl amid a passel of brothers.’

Henry grinned. ‘Privileged,’ he said. ‘In all senses of the word.’

‘You used to pull my hair,’ Emma said. ‘And throw frogs at me.’

‘And give you rides on my pony and take you round the stalls in Angers to buy ribbons and pastries.’