‘Do not waste your feelings on her. She has had her day.’
‘It could never have been a happy day, could it? The King visiting her in secret ... and the shame of it.’
‘Such as she revel in shame. You do not know what my husband was like. There was something overpowering about him.’
‘Then I daresay she found it hard to resist him.’
Eleanor laughed bitterly. ‘Well, she must pay for her pleasures. Philip will have to take her back and leave Richard free to marry you.’ Eleanor rose and went to the window and stood there watching. ‘Now that the weather is becoming more clement they will want to sail for Acre,’ she said.
‘Do you think I shall be married in Sicily?’
‘It seems likely that you will. I trust so because I wish to see you married and I must return soon to England.’
‘How I wish that we could all go there!’
Eleanor laughed. ‘Do not let Richard hear you say that. He is set on this crusade. It has long been a dream of his that he will be the one to drive the Infidel from the Holy Land and he believes God has chosen him to do this.’
Berengaria let her needlework fall into her lap and gazed to the ceiling. ‘What a noble ideal!’ she murmured.
‘He would not wish anything or anyone to stand in his way.’
‘Nor must they.’
Eleanor turned round. ‘Nay my child. We must both remember that. How I should love to go with him to the Holy Land. I did go once, you know, with my first husband, the King of France. You may have heard something of my adventures there. They were much talked of at the time.’
‘Yes,’ said Berengaria quietly, ‘I have heard.’
‘I was young and full of high spirits. There was much scandal. But this passes. If you go with your husband you will be very discreet, I know. That will be best ... for you. You will be a good wife to Richard, Berengaria. Never question his motives. Always remember that you cannot understand all that goes on in his mind. Do not attempt to stop him when he wants to follow a certain course. His father and I quarrelled. We disagreed on everything. I could not bear his infidelities.’
‘I do not think I shall suffer so with Richard.’
Eleanor looked with pity at the girl. She did not know. Perhaps she did not understand these innuendoes about the King of France. Let her go on in ignorance. It was better so.
‘And because we disagreed,’ went on Eleanor, ‘I spent years in captivity and his sons went to war against him. We were neither of us very happy in our family life. Strangely now, I see how it might have been so different. But one must never look back. That is one of the lessons I have learned from life. You act in such a way because you want to. All very well but don’t whine when you are asked to pay the price such action demands. It is a good maxim.’
‘You are very wise,’ said Berengaria.
‘And old,’ said Eleanor. ‘Those who shared my youth are now dead or nearly so. Yet I go on.’
‘Long may you do so,’ said Berengaria fervently.
‘You are a good child and I wish you happiness. I hope our paths will someday lie together.’
‘Why should they not?’
‘Because, my child, you have a roving husband and I fancy that my duty lies in England. Indeed I fret about that land now. It is without a ruler. It was a mistake to leave it so soon. I shall have to return ere long. I have sent messages to Richard telling him that I have had uneasy reports. I shall have to go back soon.’
‘You will not leave me?’
‘Nay, child. But I must give you to your husband soon. I long too to see my daughter. Joanna was always one of my favourites. Such a pretty child she was. Her husband was delighted with her when she went to him and it was a happy marriage ... and then he died and she became Tancred’s prisoner.’
‘That is over. Richard came and rescued her.’
‘Let us hope he will soon rescue us from this uneventful existence.’
Within a few days their wish was granted. A ship arrived to take them to Messina where Richard was awaiting them.
* * *
Philip came to the Villa de Muschet among the vineyards and Richard received him in his private chamber.
‘To what do I owe this honour?’ he asked.
‘To the fact that I have come to say I shall be leaving Sicily immediately.’
‘Why the hurry?’ demanded Richard.
‘Because, my dear friend, I have tarried here too long. Tomorrow I set sail for Acre.’
‘So you would take the city that all the honour might be yours.’
‘It is easy to prevent that by coming with me.’
‘My bride and my mother are on the way here.’
‘Divert them to Acre.’
‘What! To an enemy stronghold?’
‘We have dallied too long, Richard. I intend to go now. Come with me.’
‘What of my bride?’
‘What care you for your bride?’
‘You are mad, Philip.’
‘Is it mad to speak the truth? You and I have little time for women. Oh, we must get our heirs it is true and I was blessed in my consort. I would she were alive now. But I felt no yearning to be with her, even as it is with you and Berengaria. I wish you to accompany me, Richard. Have you forgotten our plans?’
‘Nay, I have not forgotten, but I cannot leave Messina now. I must receive my bride and my mother.’
‘Then perforce it is farewell.’
‘We shall meet before the walls of Acre.’
‘It may be that you will find the golden lilies flying over that town by the time you make your sluggard’s entrance.’
‘We shall see, Philip.’
‘Then you will not come with me?’
‘I see that you would force me to a folly that you might say: “See Richard of England cared more for the King of France than he did for his bride.”’
‘You wrong me. It is your company I crave, not what people should say of us.’
‘And I must say Nay. If you go now, you go alone.’
‘Then I shall see you at Acre.’
Richard nodded.
Philip came to him and embraced him. ‘Richard, mayhap you will change your mind.’
Richard shook his head. Philip turned away and went from the room.
In the bay the French fleet was preparing to leave.
It sailed out of Messina just as the ship bearing Berengaria and Eleanor sailed in.
* * *
Richard was on the shore to greet his bride and his mother. Eleanor came first, her eyes alight with pleasure to see her noble-looking son. Every time she saw him after an absence she was amazed at his good looks. She glanced at Berengaria beside her. The girl was bemused. What bride would not be at the sight of such a magnificent bridegroom?
How graciously he received them; he took Berengaria’s hands in his and gravely kissed her. Then he embraced his mother.
As they rode together to the lodging which he had prepared for them. Richard’s spirits were lifted a little. Berengaria was indeed elegant. She was exquisitely gowned, her hair was hanging loose and was covered by a mantilla-like veil; her long gown flowed about her slender figure and those who had come to watch her were enchanted by her grace.
At the house Joanna was waiting for them. When she saw her mother she forgot all ceremony. They ran to each other and Joanna was clasped in a loving embrace.
‘My dear dear child,’ cried Eleanor with emotion.
‘It has been so long since I saw you,’ replied Joanna. ‘Oh, Mother, you are still beautiful ... in spite of everything. You always will be.’
‘And you too, my dear. Oh, it has been such a time and what events have plagued us both and now we are together for but a short time.’
‘Need it be so?’
‘I fear it. There is much I have to say to your brother and I want you here, daughter, for I think we shall need you.’
‘Everything I have is at your service and that of Richard.’
‘He h
as been a good brother to you.’
‘None could have been better,’ said Joanna fervently.
Berengaria and Joanna appeared to have taken to each other. Berengaria was ready to be delighted by any member of her new family and Joanna wanted to show her gratitude to Richard by being charming to his bride.
Eleanor, watching them together, was delighted. That they should be good friends was part of her plan.
She was very eager to talk to Richard and she wished to do so out of earshot of the two young women. She suggested that Joanna conduct Berengaria to her apartment and leave her a while with her son.
When she and Richard were alone she said: ‘Well, events are moving at last. It is time. I am deeply concerned about affairs in England.’
Richard looked a little weary. A fact which disturbed her.
She spoke to him somewhat sharply. ‘Never forget, Richard, that you are King of England.’
‘Indeed I do not.’
‘You have responsibilities there.’
‘I have one great responsibility at this time, Mother. I have sworn on my solemn oath to free Jerusalem from the Infidel.’
‘I know this well, but you have also been crowned in Westminster and sworn another oath. The English grow restive under Longchamp. Sometimes I think it was unwise to raise that man so high.’
‘He is clever and Hugh Pusey of Durham is his co-justiciar.’
‘They are quarrelling. Your father always said that Long-champ was a man to be wary of.’
‘I found him hard-working and devoted.’
‘He is unpopular. Appearances are important and he is far from prepossessing. Being deformed and lame is bad enough, but as his manners match his looks the people are against him. There is going to be trouble in England, Richard. Either you or I must be there without delay and if you will not go, then I must.’
‘Will you do that?’ asked Richard eagerly. ‘Only you can.’
‘I will, Richard, but you must know that each day could be important.’
‘Do you wish to leave us as soon as you have come?’
‘I must. As soon as the wedding is over I must go back to England.’
‘The wedding ...’ murmured Richard. ‘It cannot be hurried.’
‘Hurried!’ cried Eleanor. ‘My dear son, we have been waiting weeks to get here.’
‘We are in Lent.’
‘Well?’
‘You cannot suggest we should marry at such a time. It would be a bad augury. It might affect the outcome of the crusade.’
She looked at him in dismay. Oh, God, she thought, he is reluctant for this marriage. Why so? Where could he find a more attractive and docile princess?
But he had never complained about the delay in his marriage to Princess Alice. The answer was, of course, that Richard was not eager for any marriage. The controversy over Alice had not disturbed him in the least. In fact he had been glad of it.
She could see at once that it would be unwise to press for an early marriage.
She did say: ‘The King of Navarre will expect his daughter to be married soon.’
‘So shall she be when the time is ripe.’
‘And I dare not tarry here, Richard. If you would hold England I must be there to see none try to snatch it from you.’
‘You are surely not thinking of John?’
‘I am thinking of any who might try to cheat you of your inheritance. I must be there, Richard. You know I am the only one you can be absolutely sure of.’
‘I know it well.’
‘Then I will leave for England.’
‘When?’
‘Within a day or so.’
‘Oh surely not so soon, Mother!’
‘It must be so. Berengaria needs a chaperon ... until you marry her. Of course if the ceremony took place now while I was here ...’
‘It is quite impossible. I have to think of the consequences of a Lenten wedding.’
She was silent. Then she said: ‘You must marry her, Richard, as soon as Lent is over.’
‘Indeed it is my wish to do so.’
‘But I cannot stay for the end of that season. By good fortune Joanna is here.’
‘Joanna yes. She shall be Berengaria’s duenna.’
Eleanor sighed. There were deep misgivings in her heart. Possible trouble in England, and Richard, after all the anxieties and difficulties of extricating himself from marriage with Alice showing no great desire for marriage with Berengaria.
She would speak to Joanna. Her daughter was wise. Then she must make her preparations to depart. It was imperative that Richard should not lose the crown of England.
* * *
Eleanor was desolate, she told Joanna. She had so recently joined her family and now she must tear herself away from it. Alas, this was a common enough turn of events in royal families.
‘My dearest daughter,’ she said, ‘how wonderful it is for us to be together and how sad that we soon must part. You have been more fortunate than most for, although you are a widow now, your husband was a good man.’
‘He was very good to me, Mother.’
‘Fortunate Joanna! How many of us can say that? Torn from our families as we are and given to men because they have a crown or some title, ours is a hard lot and when it turns out happily that means God and all his angels are with us. I am concerned for our young Berengaria.’
‘She will be happy, Mother. Richard will be good to her.’
‘He might be a little neglectful.’
Joanna looked startled, and Eleanor went on quickly: ‘Richard is a warrior. His great obsession now is with this crusade. He would not want it jeopardised in any way even by marriage.’
‘I have just met Berengaria but I am sure that she is gentle and kind and will be a good wife and that only Richard’s well-being will matter to her.’
‘I think this, too, but it is not of Berengaria that we speak, daughter. It is of Richard. I want you to stay with Berengaria. Be a good friend to her. I know you will be to your brother. She will have to accompany him to Acre. For some that might be an exciting adventure, but I fancy Berengaria would prefer a less eventful beginning to her married life. Go with Berengaria, Joanna. Be a good friend to her.’
‘It is what I wish with all my heart.’
‘You give me great comfort. Berengaria will help you and you will help her and I can return to England with an easier mind.’
‘You will surely stay to see them married, Mother?’
‘I had believed the wedding would take place immediately.’
‘Why should it not? There is no obstacle now.’
‘Alice is swept out of the way but it seems there is Lent.’
‘It could be a quiet ceremony. We could celebrate afterwards.’
‘Your brother thinks otherwise. He wishes to postpone the wedding until after Lent.’
‘Then stay with us until then.’
‘I cannot, Joanna. I know it would be unwise. I do not wish your brother to lose his kingdom. I must leave immediately.’
‘But you have only just come.’
‘I know, my child, but there is a kingdom at stake. I must go back without delay.’
Joanna was appalled. The fact that it was Lent did not seem an adequate excuse for postponing the wedding in such circumstances. She was saddened by the thought that her mother was leaving them so soon but at the same time happy to think that she could be of use to her brother and a friend to his affianced bride for whom she was already beginning to feel affection.
In some apprehension Eleanor took leave of her family and set out for England. She had been only three days in Sicily.
As she stood on the deck watching the land fade from sight she wondered how long it would be before the wedding did take place and if at the end of Lent Richard would find some other reason for postponing it. He must marry Berengaria. There would be war with Navarre if he did not. He could not afford to lose friends. None could understand the call of adventure more than she did but it wa
s adventure enough for a king that he had a kingdom to govern. It was also a duty to marry and get sons.
All would be well, she assured herself. It was merely a postponement. The marriage would take place; the children would come.
She deplored the fact that she was growing old. True, she retained her energy. Most people of her years would have retired to a nunnery. Perhaps she should think of expiating her sins but it seemed to her that a better way to do this might be to devote herself to her family rather than piously to prepare a way to Heaven for herself. There were not many who would agree with her and perhaps when Richard was safely back in England, the Holy City captured for Christianity, Berengaria the mother of several lusty sons ... perhaps that would be the time. And when would that be? She laughed knowing that the time if it ever came was years ahead.
When she reached Rome it was to find that Henry of Germany was about to be crowned Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. It seemed to her politic that she should be present at that ceremony.
She quickly became aware that her reception by the Emperor elect was a cold one. And no wonder since his wife was Constancia, sister of the late King of Sicily, who considered herself the heiress of that island on the death of her brother. Joanna had suffered imprisonment for supporting Constancia’s claim but Richard had since made a pact with Tancred and had tactically accepted him as the new King of Sicily when he had offered his nephew Arthur as the husband of Tancred’s daughter.
Richard had congratulated himself that he had come out of that affair well. He had forgotten that while he made his truce in Sicily he was making an enemy of the powerful Emperor.
Eleanor believed that Henry would have been a more useful ally.
She attended the ceremony at St Peter’s Church and saw Henry and Constancia anointed and proclaimed Emperor and Empress. There was one moment during the ceremony when she was filled with secret mirth. The Pope, who was officiating, sat on the Papal chair, the imperial crown placed incongruously on the floor between his feet. The new Emperor, his head bowed in reverence towards this awesome figure, received the crown when the Pope sent it towards him with a movement of his foot and placed it on his head. To show that he could without preamble dispossess him if he wished the Pope then lifted his foot and kicked the crown off Henry’s head.
The Heart of the Lion Page 11