“And in my son’s duchy? What will you speak there?” Eleanor probed more.
Although she was growing wary of the questions, Catherine answered as expected, in the dialect of Normandy. This was her native tongue, the language of her childhood and of her family and of her ancestors. The words flowed smoothly in answer to the queen’s question.
The queen’s scrutiny intensified and Catherine finished speaking quickly, then changed back to the bland version of court French spoken among the ruling and noble classes. Just as it seemed that the queen would ask another question, Geoffrey approached through the crowd and bowed.
“Your Grace,” he said, rising. “What think you of my lady?”
“She is charming, my lord. ’Tis no wonder you chose her to have to wife.”
The words hid more than they said, and Catherine shivered. The queen noticed.
“Catherine, I have monopolized much of your time. Before you go, would you fetch me the coverlet from my bed? I grow chilled from the sea air.”
Catherine placed the skeins of thread back in the box and stood.
“My sleeping chamber is through that door.” Eleanor smiled and nodded her head to one side of the wall behind where they now sat.
She had been dismissed. Catherine walked toward the chamber, knowing she’d not only been dismissed, but also removed from the room. Without insulting her, Eleanor had gotten rid of her so that she herself could interrogate Geoffrey. Would their answers to her questions be the same? Had she said something to raise the queen’s suspicions?
Catherine entered the chamber as directed and gathered the coverlet from the bed. When the servant closed the door behind her, she knew she was to wait before returning to the solar. Taking advantage of the privacy, she prayed that it would all work out for them.
What would Geoffrey say?
He watched as she walked away from them, convinced that Catherine knew the real reason for Eleanor’s request. With dozens of servants and retainers strewn around the room, she did not need Catherine to carry out this errand. But who could refuse a request from Eleanor of Aquitaine?
“She is lovely, my lord,” Eleanor offered.
“Aye, Your Grace.”
“And intelligent.”
“Aye, Your Grace,” he agreed once more. The less said the better.
“And,” she said, turning to face him where he stood, “she is not from Blaye. Your Catherine is from Anjou.”
Geoff did not reply. He waited to see how far Eleanor would push their deception.
“I suspect that she is not your brother’s choice for your wife.” She laughed softly. “From your expression I see I am closer to the truth than you would like me to be.”
He could feel the blood drain from his face as she taunted him quietly. To the others in the chamber, they were engaged in polite conversation. Only they knew the seriousness of it.
“How did you come to be betrothed to her? She is without wealth, I assume?” He nodded, trying to put words together to tell their story. “I expect that the Earl of Harbridge is not happy that you let an heiress such as Melissande of Quercy slip away.”
He had heard tales of Eleanor’s abilities to discern not only the facts in a situation, but also the subtleties and nuances. Now at the end of seven decades of life, she was sharper in judgment than anyone else he knew.
“Worry not, my lord. I would hear it from you before I judge. Why are you betrothed to her?”
Geoffrey decided that ’twas best to simply tell her the truth as far as he could. Eleanor had proven a worthy ally to his brother in the past, even saving their lives by calling upon Christian to aid her. If she suspected that he was lying to her, she could prove herself a formidable enemy.
“To protect her honor and her life,” he said without hesitation. Then he looked at the queen and gave the real reason. “And because I love her.”
He was not certain how she would react to his words, so he looked away and waited.
“Ah, my lord. You aspire to the courtly ideals that I preached in those long-ago days of my youth. Those ideals are strained now against the true nature and mores of the world in which we live.” Eleanor looked toward her bedchamber. “What did you say to overcome your brother’s objections? He has the right to approve your marriage until you attain your titles, I believe.”
The queen knew entirely too much of his situation. How could she have such facts within her grasp?
“The king’s orders changed everything, Your Grace. The reward for coming at his call is the immediate investiture of my titles and confirmation of my choice of wife.”
The queen sat back against her chair and did not respond to his words. This must be something unknown to her. She tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair and stared off into the distance as she digested what he had told her. Eleanor nodded to her lady-in-waiting and the door to her chamber was opened for Catherine. The questioning was at an end, but would she support or oppose this marriage?
He read the nervousness on Catherine’s face; the slight furrowing of her delicate brow and the paleness of her cheeks told him that she worried at the outcome of this interview. As she brought the requested coverlet to the queen, she curtsied and held it out for the queen’s servants to place on their mistress. Eleanor’s eyes widened as she looked closely at Catherine, but then the expression of surprise faded from her face.
“I am to Caen and the king on my way to Fontrevault. Since I go first to Richard, you must travel with me there so that I may lend my support to this worthy cause.”
“But Your Grace, I travel with seven knights. I would not impose our party on your generosity. Lord Reginald assures me that we will have passage by week’s end.”
“My lord Dumont,” she said as she stood. Everyone in the room quieted to hear her words. “God willing, I leave on the morning tide and you will leave with me. Lord Reginald will make it so.”
Her voice carried through the chamber and all heard it. No one could refuse an offer such as this from the queen. Geoffrey took Catherine by the hand, and she lowered herself in a curtsy even as he leaned forward in a bow.
“Your gracious offer cannot be refused. We would be honored to accompany you on your voyage and journey to Caen.”
Before he could back away, the queen brought him closer with a wave of her hand. Geoffrey leaned down so that he could hear her words.
“Arrange the witnesses for the bedding and claim her before you reach the king. You would do well to heed my words on this matter.”
Taken aback by her advice, he stumbled a few steps to where Catherine stood waiting. Never would he have expected those words from the queen. In her wisdom, she obviously thought there was some valid reason to finalize their marriage prior to presenting Catherine to the king.
If he had given her his word and assurances that they would not consummate their betrothal until Caen, how could he go back on that now? So it was with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he did not heed the queen’s words.
Chapter Sixteen
With their horses stowed safely below deck and their few belongings stored in the small cabin assigned them for the voyage, Geoffrey took Catherine on the main deck to watch as they left England behind and headed for their life together. Although being on the queen’s ship lent a certain measure of security to their travel, his knights still guarded the gold they carried for his brother’s scutage payment to the king.
As God had apparently willed it and the queen had ordered it, the weather had come up clear and the winds favorable for their departure, so within a hour or so of dawn, the ship left the port of Dover on its way to the northern coast of Normandy.
If all went as expected, the rest of his knights would meet them at the Château Gaillard on the Seine within another sennight. Geoffrey had left the decision of their route and method of travel up to Girard. His man knew time was short and timing was important to the king’s plans, so Geoff did not doubt that the men of Langier would arrive as needed.<
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They did not see or talk to Eleanor while boarding the ship, and while he’d thought they might be summoned to a meal, they were not. Word spread that the queen was not traveling well and would be in her chambers through the voyage. ’Twas the first sign of weakness that he ever remembered hearing of the indefatigable queen.
But Catherine glowed on the sea. The air and motion as their ship crossed the waves seemed to strengthen her and make her more beautiful than before. Whatever exhaustion and physical problems the difficult travel on horseback had wrought, the sea released them. She stood at his side as the winds took them farther into the Channel, and he gave in to the temptation she offered in being so near and so alive.
He conspired to see her as he fantasized—with her hair freed of its confining snood and being blown wild by the winds. Just before they sought their cabin for the night, he took her in his arms and kissed her breathless. Then, tugging the confounded accoutrement loose, he shook her tresses free and enjoyed the sight of them. Although she tried to recapture her locks into a braid, he grasped her hands and prevented her from doing so. Catherine laughed at his antics and promised that her hair would always be loosened in their chambers.
Although he did not arrange for the formal bedding as the queen had suggested, he did share Catherine’s bed and he pleasured her with his mouth and hands and body until she moaned for him. There was no reticence at all in her reaction to him, and he managed to hold his own desires in check with difficulty. He waited only for the night he claimed her, and then she would know the depth of his feelings for her.
And just longer than a day after they’d set sail from Dover, the queen’s ship approached the port on the coast of Normandy closest to the king’s city of Caen. Arrangements for landing, unloading their horses and getting provisions for the ride to the castle were made by the constable’s men on board as part of their duties to the king.
Eleanor’s retainer gave Geoffrey and Catherine leave of her, so that they could travel at their own speed to Caen, and by late morn they were on the path that would lead them to his titles, their marriage and his duties to the king.
Only one day remained before coming into the presence of the king. Geoffrey thought on Eleanor’s words, but decided that waiting until all objections were answered was the better way to handle this. His precipitous removal of Catherine from the convent precluded them from going back, so he would meet with his brother on their return, and make peace with him. Mayhap, as Emalie had suggested, they could celebrate their marriage at Greystone.
They passed many people on the road to the castle, and Geoffrey’s stomach tightened in anticipation of receiving his lands from the king the next day. Geoffrey had been presented to Richard long ago, in good circumstances and bad, but he had not seen the king in several months and knew nothing of his plans or why this call was so important that it made Richard grant concessions in return for Geoffrey’s participation.
Soon they were on the road leading to the Exchequer’s Castle, as it was now called, and he leaned over and grasped Catherine’s hand. The smile she offered did not say much of pleasant expectations.
“Soon, Catherine, soon,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it. A smile filled her face. He kissed her hand again and then let it go so that she could maintain control of her mount. No longer the sturdy mount she’d ridden across half of England, this one was made jittery by the crowds on the roads.
Their group approached the castle from the north, along the wide avenue that led over a drawbridge and moat, through the outer wall and on to the Vieux Palais. William the Conqueror’s original donjon now stood before them, while Richard’s father had built the Vieux Palais and the Hall of the Exchequer to house all of the king’s officials and services. His treasury was overseen there, as well as official documents and the administrative details of the Plantagenet kingdom here and in England.
Aymer led them to a place where they could dismount and prepare for their entrance into the palace.
“The king awaits you, my lord,” he said, helping Catherine to the ground. “And you, as well, my lady.”
The four knights sworn to Harbridge unloaded the satchels of gold from the packhorses, and each carried two. They would present them to the king, but then take them to his exchequer, who would verify the amount and keep an accounting of their use. Aymer led the way, with Michel and Jean following them and the knights with the gold at the back.
Up two stairways and down a corridor they went, passing many knights and lords and ladies who were all awaiting the king’s attention. Geoff greeted several he knew as they passed, but did not delay their progress. There would be time enough later to speak to his acquaintances. At last he could see the high table on the raised dais and hear the voice of Richard, Coeur de Lion, over the others. Geoff paused and took a deep breath. Then, with Catherine at his side, he moved forward.
He stood at the bottom of the dais and waited for the king to pause in his discussions. When they were noticed, he bowed deeply, still holding Catherine’s hand as she dipped almost to the floor, as was expected before the king. Holding their positions, they waited for the king’s greeting.
“Dumont!” the king shouted. “’Twould seem you spared no time in answering my call. Come and greet your king.”
Richard stood on the dais, hands outstretched to him, so Geoffrey climbed to the top step. There he knelt before the king and bowed his head. Richard touched the top of it and then placed his hands on Geoff’s shoulders, pulling him to his feet. ’Twas not the formal pledge, but a sign nonetheless that Geoffrey Dumont and the estates and wealth of Langier were sworn to the king.
“Your men?” he asked, peering around Geoff to look over the group.
“The Langier knights travel directly to Gaillard, Your Grace. They should arrive by week’s end.”
“Excellent!” the king called out. “And they will be led by their count, who will take his oath of fealty to me this very night.”
The first part of their bargain would be fulfilled by night’s end. Did Richard remember the rest of it?
“Who stands with you? Bring them forward.” The king stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. Although there was a chair near him, he chose to stand.
“These are my men, Sir Aymer, Michel and Jean. And the Harbridge knights carry my brother’s payment in lieu of his attendance here before you.”
He waved the knights forward and they knelt before the king. Intent on introducing Catherine next, Geoff did not see the entourage approaching from the side.
“Only half of the gold pays my scutage, Your Grace. The other half is a gift in gratitude to our liege lord on the occasion of my brother’s investiture as Comte de Langier.”
“Christian? Why are you here?” Shocked over his brother’s sudden appearance, Geoffrey could not even begin to contemplate all the implications of this. It did not bode well, though.
“His Grace summoned me, as you well know, brother, and I chose to bring half the knights requested by him.” Christian walked up the steps and stood at his side. “And I would not miss witnessing your oath to the king on behalf of the Dumont family.”
So, his brother had known or discovered the contents of Geoff’s summons to the king and the rewards offered. Most likely the reverend mother would have informed him of the actions taken at the convent. Still, regardless of how he’d found out the truth, part of Geoffrey was pleased to have his brother at his side. Except…
“We will continue business this evening, but there is one who you have not introduced to me. Bring her forward.”
Would Christian voice his objections now? To the king? Geoff hesitated for a moment and then turned to help Catherine up the steps. She was standing off to one side, nearer the onlookers than to his men or Christian’s, as though she was trying to hide. Did she fear repudiation now?
Once more she did not fail him, for as he raised his hand to her, she moved forward and took it, allowing him to escort her up to meet th
e king. She did surprise him in one thing. Before kneeling before the king, she gifted his brother with a nod of deference, not ignoring him as she probably wanted to.
“Your Grace, may I present my betrothed wife, Catherine, to you?”
The silence around them grew as the king inspected Catherine and as Geoff waited for his brother’s voice to speak out against her. Then Richard spoke.
“Since you have already impressed my mother, I have no doubt that you will do the same to the rest of our court, Lady Catherine. Rise now and be welcomed here.”
Geoff heard Christian’s indrawn breath, but did not meet his gaze. Instead he reached down to assist Catherine to her feet and then waited for the king’s dismissal.
“Tonight then, I will accept your oath before all of my nobles. Your first duty to me will be your attendance at the meeting of my councillors in the morn.” Richard brought a man to him with a wave. “My steward will see to your needs. Harbridge, send your gold to the exchequer in the hall.”
A flurry of activity followed, with everyone hurrying to carry out the king’s orders. Soon only Christian, Catherine and Geoffrey were left standing before the dais. Another servant came forward and informed them that Catherine was being housed within the queen’s apartments. With a look of much trepidation, she walked off behind the woman to go to her chambers to prepare for the night and the important festivities ahead.
That left him there to face his brother for the first time since he’d ridden off to the convent. Without telling him of his plans. Without telling him of the king’s grant.
When he would have spoken, Christian stopped him. “Let us seek out our chamber and some measure of privacy before opening wounds.”
They followed another servant through the Vieux Palais and out through the courtyard to another building. This one was a barracks made to house many knights and fighting men. As due their station, they were given one of the few private chambers for their use. When the servant left, pulling the door shut behind him, it was time for the reckoning that Geoffrey knew would come.
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