“Because they have no leader. Also because the king can be vicious. He stripped my uncle Hubert de Burgh of every groat. Even when the bishops made him return Hubert to sanctuary, Henry ordered that no food or water be allowed in. That he could inflict these cruelties is bad enough, but that he could inflict them upon a man who had been like a father to him shows exactly how venal he can be. I know Winchester poisoned William Marshal though I have no proof, but even if I found proof, Henry is too weak-livered to do aught about it.”
Simon lifted his head ceilingward, thinking of the woman upstairs. “She loves Henry, even though he has taken this away from her, but if she knew he was connected to the marshal’s death, she would hate him forever.”
“Aye, I know she loves him, and so I spared her most of what he did to Hubert. I worry for her future,” said Sir Rickard, low.
Simon de Montfort searched the knight’s face for long minutes, then said, “Cease worrying. She is mine.”
Rickard de Burgh was both relieved and alarmed. He could wish no stronger man to be her protector, yet he did not envy them the insurmountable opposition they would encounter on every side. He would not be presumptuous enough to offer the earl advice. Instead he handed him the missive from Hubert de Burgh.
Simon scanned the parchment, then deliberately put it into the fire. Rickard spoke quickly, thinking he rejected Hubert’s offer. “He knows you are the only man strong enough and honest enough for the task. He also knows it will take time, but if you help him so that he is reinstated, he pledges to put all his wealth and all his power behind you.” Rickard opened his hands in a last-ditch appeal. “I know it is difficult to choose sides.”
Simon de Montfort looked him squarely in the face. “It is not difficult for me. I am ever on the side of justice.”
31
A large party set out from Chepstowe to Windsor that early winter morn, for not only did Eleanor and Bette have de Burgh men and de Montfort men for escort, they also had the thirty Welsh fighting men of Chepstowe.
When the garrison had learned their overlord would be a hated foreigner, William de Lusignan, they sought out Simon, whom they had grown to respect, and asked him to take them into his service. He had explained that since they had pledged to the Earl and Countess of Pembroke, they would technically have to stay in Eleanor’s service, but in actuality he would make them his men.
Then at the last minute, half the household staff had begged Eleanor to take them with her. She felt a small measure of triumph that when the usurper came, he would find the place almost deserted.
Simon grinned down at her as the cavalcade moved off toward the English border. “This will teach Sweet William not to piss in the tall weeds with the big dogs.”
They arrived at Odiham just at nightfall. The small estate was near bursting at the seams to accommodate them all. Eleanor sent a silent prayer of thanks to William Marshal that he had given the deed to Odiham into her hand. This was one place they could never take from her.
In the small hours of the night when she thought they would be safe from prying eyes, she lay in Simon’s arms begging him not to ride straight to the king and challenge him on her behalf. “Sim, please, if you champion me, our secret will be revealed. If you love me, let me fight my own battle with Henry.”
He brushed his lips against her temple. When she called him Sim he could deny her nothing. Finally, reluctantly, he said, “I will take the Welsh fighting men to Leicester. What the hell will you do with all the servants you’ve attracted?”
“Leave most of them here, I suppose; I have all the Marshal servants from Durham House at Windsor.”
“I don’t suppose it ever entered your head, but where is the money coming from to support all these people?”
She moved playfully against him. “You always bring money into it.” She bit his earlobe. “You haven’t even asked me to marry you today.”
“That’s because I cannot bloody-well afford you,” he whispered fiercely.
Suddenly she realized this would be their last night together if Simon was off to Leicester. How could she bear it? Now that they were at Odiham, they could not be as blatant as they had been in Wales, and she had forbidden him to come to her until two in the morning. He had come at one, making certain none save Bette knew of the secret affair. By four or five he would be gone, and she knew it would be like the sun going out of her life.
Simon de Montfort made her feel beautiful. She had been known as the King’s Precious Jewel all her life, but now for the first time she actually felt like a precious jewel. She felt cherished. Now as he enfolded her in his embrace and brought her against his hard-muscled length, her lips parted in a low, wordless moan. His hot mouth nuzzled her throat and she thrilled to it, knowing any minute now it would come seeking her own mouth. She was breathless with anticipation, knowing it would begin softly, then it would tease, then it would grow hungry. She would open to him, let him feast upon her ardently, passionately until his needs became savage and demanding.
She reveled in her chosen role as woman when Simon de Montfort was the man. She was all sweet submission; he was ail dominant conqueror. His lips traced molten paths downward and she quivered uncontrollably because she knew his goal. He tempted her to join him, to match him in abandon. Her response was so rich, so generous, it was more than he had ever dared hope in his wildest dreams.
Once she came up from the depths of sleep, feeling panic because she thought he had left her, but then she felt the powerful, hard body entwined with hers and she felt like purring. She was sorry she had disturbed him, but within seconds she was deliriously happy. He bathed her with his love until she was sated with contentment.
The next time she awoke he was gone. She wept bittersweet tears. The separation that stretched before her was insurmountable, yet what they had shared was so beautiful, it was incomparable.
She took three days to rest from her journey, but after that she became restless as a vixen in heat. Her anger at what Henry had done to her had no outlet. It festered and grew until she knew she must ride to Windsor and have it out with him.
When at last she faced her brother, she savaged him with her temper as she had when they were younger, but she was totally unprepared for his reaction. This was a new Henry, an older, wiser, and far more devious Henry, though she did not realize it.
“Ah, little cockroach, you are beautiful when you are angry, and I am so pleased to have you back I don’t care what you say to me.”
“Don’t you dare patronize me! How dare you give that little queer my Welsh holdings?”
“Eleanor love, you do not know what it has been like for me. My domestic situation is a nightmare. Unless I give in to the queen over every little thing, she puts me through sheer hell. William is our brother, Eleanor. It is our duty to honor him with castles and land, but the Queen’s Men are so jealous of our brother I had to effectively remove him from England. That’s why I gave him Chepstowe and Pembroke. You will never venture into Wales, so I thought I would put it to good use.”
She wanted to shout at the top of her lungs that she had just returned from Wales, but managed to keep her secret. “You cannot make him Earl of Pembroke, Henry,” she raved.
“No, no. He shall never have the title, but your Marshal holdings are so vast and young Joan is legal heiress to some of them, you know, even though you don’t like to admit it.”
“If they are so bloody vast, how come there are not enough Marshal estates for me to have one?”
“They are vast, Eleanor; they cover a sixth of Ireland alone.”
“What the hell good to me are lands in Ireland unless you will allow me the revenue from them?” she argued.
“I should have realized you would need money. My coffers are almost empty as usual so I cannot give you anything exorbitant. I’ll tell you what, I will give you four hundred crowns a year in exchange for the Irish holdings.”
She opened her mouth to refuse. She thought the revenues were worth at least d
ouble that, but there was no guarantee she would ever see a penny of them. Thinking how she needed money for her vast number of household servants, she reluctantly agreed to the pension.
“Eleanor, I love you. I swear to you on our father’s grave if you ever need a favor from me I will grant it. Here, take my sapphire ring; you know how I prize it. It will be a pledge to you for the future.”
“Oh, Henry, I swear you are the most exasperating brother a sister ever had. Give me the four hundred crowns today and I will say no more about it, for now. But you owe me, and I will hold you to it!”
“Sweet, I cannot give it to you today. Tomorrow I will demand the money from Parliament. It would help if you stayed here at Windsor and faced them with me.”
Eleanor was torn. She wanted to return to Odiham to await Simon de Montfort. It might be possible to continue their liaison there, where her secret had to be guarded only from her own people. If she remained at Windsor it would be impossible, for the very walls had ears and eyes to say nothing of the fact that the place crawled with her enemies as well as bishops and clergy. She reluctantly agreed and thought to make short shrift of the King’s council. However, it took over a week to assemble them, and the things she heard as she sat at her brother’s side in the great council chamber alarmed her.
It was obvious they disliked their king. They disapproved of his every request and were hostile to Eleanor.
“You do naught but demand money, money, money from this Parliament. Your debts are so great now they are almost insurmountable. Last month alone you gave your brother William de Lusignan the richest heiress in England. Through her he received Pembroke in Wales and Wexford in Ireland. As if that were not enough, you gave him five hundred pounds a year pension and the castle of Goderich.”
Eleanor’s mouth fell open and she fixed Henry with a cold stare.
“Guy de Lusignan has returned home with his saddlebags filled with gold, and your half brother Aymer has been given so many rich churches he has appointed a steward to collect his incomes. Now you have asked that he be appointed Bishop of Durham, but we hope the church will refuse him. He is only an acolyte and is far too young and ignorant to be a bishop.”
“Damn it, you forget I am the king!” Henry shouted in full rage. “This is my sister, Princess Eleanor Plantagenet! If you refuse to grant her this pension I shall appoint a new council!” he threatened.
“We will grant Eleanor the pension, but you must adhere to the provisions of the Great Charter. You must stop going into debt for foreign relatives and you must appoint responsible men to the posts of justiciar, treasurer, and chancellor.”
Back in her tower in the Upper Ward, Eleanor was shaken at the open hatred the council had shown toward the king. He had finally promised to adhere to everything they asked, but once they were alone he had laughed and told her he was giving young Aymer the churches of Abingdon and Wearmouth and by hook or by crook would see him appointed Bishop of Durham. Obviously his preference had been transferred to his young brothers; no longer did he give all the plums to his wife’s uncles.
Her longing for Simon grew each day. At night in her lonely bed, the hours were interminable. Every time she closed her eyelids, his powerful physique stood before her. His scent lingered in her nostrils, his touch was remembered by her very skin, and she knew she was starving for the strong security of his arms. The vast bed was so cold and lonely she hated the nights with a vengeance. Her very insides ached with the need to have him fill her with his long, thick manroot. She moaned softly, remembering his shaft deep within her, and hugged her breasts to still their ache. They had become so sensitive lately the fabric of her underclothes made her want to scream. She sent for wine to make her sleep, but its effect upon her was devastating. Her blood grew so hot she was in a fever to have her secret lover put out the fires that raged in her body.
When Simon de Montfort had not returned in a whole month, she was so angry she wanted only to strike out at him. Well, when he did manage to drag himself back to Windsor, she decided to show him that she did not need him.
The queen’s birthday came at the end of October and was to be celebrated on All Hallow’s Eve. Eleanor was surprised to receive a special invitation from the queen to attend the banquet and was immediately on her guard. She gave her sister-in-law an exquisite enameled girdle mainly from pride. She wanted her gift to be lovelier than any other, and at the same time she wanted to display her faultless taste.
When the queen unwrapped the magnificent jeweled and enameled girdle, she made much of the expensive present in front of Henry and said, “Ah, the little nun must have the seat of honor next to me.”
The queen was dressed in glittering gold upon this birthday occasion, and Eleanor wondered how she could stand the damned color. She must have a score of dresses fashioned from the same cloth-of-gold, with only their ornamentation differing slightly. It was as if she had a compulsion to let everyone know she was the queen.
For the first time the queen appeared to be friendly toward her husband’s sister and seemed to treat her graciously before the assembly. Actually the gossip with which she regaled Eleanor was all lewd and off-color, and Eleanor was at first secretly amused that she thought to shock the “little nun.”
The queen began by telling Eleanor of all the bastards Thomas of Savoy had produced as well as the eleven legitimate children he had, and now his son Peter of Savoy was following in his footsteps sowing his own crop of bastards. From there she went on to tell Eleanor some of the obscene things Eleanor’s father, King John, had done over the years, not leaving out the fact that her mother had been a whore from the age of fourteen.
Eleanor started to become uncomfortable as the queen continued. “’tis no wonder such a voluptuary spawned children with such peculiar sex lives.”
“Peculiar?” repeated Eleanor, her color high.
“Well, take her son William de Lusignan. I pity poor Joan Marshal. Anyone can see he prefers to bed with men. And even Henry here likes to pretend he’s my little dog. Just loves me to throw things across the bedchamber so he can retrieve them. Then he sits up and begs my favors.”
“If he is the dog, then you must be the bitch,” Eleanor said sweetly.
The queen laughed, but her eyes were anything but amused as she narrowed them dangerously. “Speaking of bitches, Isabella Marshal was your brother Richard’s whore long before she got rid of her husband and forced Richard to marry her.”
Eleanor for once was speechless for the queen was deliberately twisting things. It had been Richard who had done the pursuing in that relationship. Eleanor was on the verge of jumping to her feet and slapping the queen in the face when she said something that hurt Eleanor so deeply she was frozen to the spot.
“And then there is you, the real scandal of the family. Your insatiable sexual demands upon William Marshal were so excessive he actually died ‘on the job.’”
Eleanor’s throat closed and a great lump developed that threatened to choke her. Tears sprang to her eyes to blind her and a great roar came into her ears to pierce her very brain. Through a watery blur Eleanor saw Simon de Montfort enter the hall and walk a direct path toward her. Now she was really in a panic. Her mind screamed to him, No! No! No! She dashed the tears from her eyes and saw that he was not looking at her, but at the queen. He knelt before the woman in glittering gold, presented her with a birthday gift, and passed on down the hall.
Thank you, Simon, for not looking at me … thank you, Simon, for keeping our shameful secret … thank you, my darling love, for returning to me, her heart whispered.
“I should like to cause a scandal myself with that one,” said the queen in a low, excited voice. “Did you notice how he paid court to me with those black eyes of his? He is waiting only for me to give him a signal.” The queen shivered with desire. “He is desperately seeking an heiress because he needs money so badly. The European widows he woos are said to be so old and ugly he can only bear to fuck them in the dark.”
&nb
sp; Eleanor did not remember leaving the great hall; did not remember making her way from the Lower Ward in the chilly winter night through the Middle Ward and on into the silent Upper Ward. She became aware of her surroundings only when she realized she was sitting in her walled garden.
Her bare arms and shoulders were very cold. The night wind rustled the leaves about her feet and her nostrils picked up their pungent but pleasant fragrance. The stars hung like brilliant jewels in the dark sky, and she wondered briefly why there was no moon to shine its pale light upon her misery.
She did not see or hear him, yet she sensed his presence. “Kathe.” The word stole to her softly. It was an endearment, a caress, a pledge of love. She was torn asunder. She wanted him, she needed him, she loved him, but she knew she could and would not have him under any circumstances.
“Do not touch me.” It was a cry from the heart. The leaves rustled to give her warning. “Come no closer.” It was a cry from the soul.
He was the man, she merely the woman. He would make the decisions. “You are freezing,” he said as he pulled her hard against him and enfolded her within his cloak, next to his heart.
She cried out in pain and he was all tender concern. He knew his strong hands were capable of brutality, but he could have sworn he had not handled her too roughly. “What, love? Where did I hurt you?”
She drew in her breath upon a ragged sigh. “My breasts … they are so tender I want to scream.”
Simon de Montfort’s heart did a cartwheel. If he guessed correctly he had bound this woman to him forever. His seed had planted his babe in her.
“De Montfort, you say you love me, yet I have just learned that you have been searching for a wealthy widow on the continent.”
He allowed her to pull from his arms. He removed his heavy cloak and wrapped it about her before he spoke. “The king proposed a couple of names because I was in debt. A marriage of convenience is a common enough practice, but I am the most relieved man on the face of the earth that nothing came of these proposals. Anyway, it was before I ever met you, Eleanor. I am not in the habit of explaining myself to a woman, but in your case I have made an exception,” he said quietly.
The Dragon and the Jewel Page 33