The Winter Crown (13 page)

Warin, her chamberlain, entered the room, bowed, and announced that the Chancellor was here requesting an audience. Still facing the window, Alienor closed her eyes and sighed. ‘Show him in,’ she said and, after a moment, gathered herself and turned to watch Thomas Becket enter the room.

As usual his garb was immaculate – a fine robe with the large sleeves of a cleric so that he occupied twice as much space as his narrow body actually required. A white linen shirt gleamed at cuff and throat and a ring set with a large green beryl shone on the middle finger of his right hand.

‘Madam.’ He bowed to her. ‘I am sorry to impose on you this early.’

‘I am sure you would not do so merely to gossip, my lord chancellor. What can I do for you that my husband cannot?’ Henry was conspicuous by his absence. There had been some talk of hunting, but she suspected his prey was of the female variety. She had asked Thomas to obtain some more lamps for her chamber, but that was a routine matter for one of his underlings, and would not warrant a special visit.

‘Madam, it is a delicate matter of the realm and foreign policy.’ He presented her with a letter that had been tucked up his sleeve. It had been opened, but the seal of France still dangled on a cord from its base.

‘What is this?’

He clasped his thin, fine hands. ‘Madam, we thought that now was the time to tell you. We did not do so before, because matters might have come to naught.’

Alienor read what was written and then read it again, unable to take it in because it was so preposterous. It seemed to concern a marriage proposal between her eldest son and Louis’s baby daughter Marguerite. Louis wished to discuss the situation in more depth and was inviting Henry to Paris for talks on that and other matters of diplomatic concern.

Trembling, she struck the parchment. ‘Whose idea was this?’ She was horrified that an issue of this nature could have been conducted behind her back and gone this far. ‘You and the King have discussed this between you and omitted to tell me despite the matter involving my son and having wide-reaching consequences?’

‘Madam, you were unwell at the time in the first months of pregnancy and there would have been no point in disturbing you if the proposal had come to naught,’ Becket replied in a reasonable voice.

‘And you think I am not more disturbed by this?’ She struck the parchment again. ‘That you went behind my back, and chose not to tell me until you had to?’

He opened his hands in a placatory gesture. ‘Madam, truly we thought it for the best. There was no intent to deceive.’

She glared at Becket, hating his obsequious smoothness. She knew it must be his idea, because he was always presenting schemes to Henry like jewels on a necklace and Henry would seize on them with delight and further embellish them. ‘Do I look like a fool, my lord chancellor? Of course there was intent to deceive.’

‘Madam, I assure you there was not.’

She needed time to think, to organise and regroup. She folded the parchment so that the blank sides were outermost. ‘I shall give you my reply after I have considered,’ she said with regal dignity. ‘You may go.’

He cleared his throat and stirred his toe in a circle on the floor. ‘Madam, the reply has already been sent in anticipation. I am to travel to Paris to open negotiations.’ His expression was a polite mask. ‘The King will tell you more when he returns.’

Alienor felt sick. She was being pushed out; they had not seen fit to tell her because they had known she would object. ‘Get out,’ she said in a choked voice. Turning her back on him, she went to sit in the window embrasure and fanned herself with the parchment. Becket did not ask her to return it, but he would have had copies made.

The revelation of what had been done without her knowledge had stopped her brain. She could not think, could not comprehend. There was no one she could turn to for support. Behind her she was aware of Becket taking his time to exit the room. He was talking to a scribe and collecting some parchments that needed dealing with, as if waiting for her to relent and summon him back, but she had no intention of doing so, because his words would be as smooth as syrup and make her sick. Eventually he did depart, murmuring that he would return later, and she closed her eyes in blessed relief.

The shock had left her feeling limp and wrung out. She summoned her women to comb her hair and bring a basin of tepid water so that she could change her gown and cleanse away the stain of this news. She stared at the crumpled piece of parchment in her hand. For two figs she would have put it in the candle and burned it to ashes, but she needed this solid proof of treachery and disrespect.

‘Lock this in my jewel box,’ she said, handing the letter to Isabel and suppressing a heave.

‘Is there anything I can do, madam?’ Isabel asked, her expression full of concern.

It would be easy to cry but this was not worth the easy tears. ‘No,’ Alienor said, ‘this is for me to face by myself.’ She watched Isabel fold the note and place it in the jewel box without looking at it. Isabel was as trustworthy as gold. Not so much as a sidelong glance to try and steal a glimpse of the content, but still Alienor could not tell her. ‘I thank you for asking.’

The scented water and change of clothes cooled Alienor’s body and restored her sense of self, but she was still perturbed and distracted. Sipping from a cup of wine she paced the room, pondering strategies, and trying to deal with the bitter upwelling of feelings of betrayal.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the door flung open and Henry strode into the room. His tunic was covered in dust and he was still wearing his spurs. The defensive gleam in his eyes told Alienor he was well aware of her exchange with Becket.

Alienor dismissed her ladies and waited for the last one to leave and the latch to fall. Henry went to pour himself a cup of wine, his attitude so deliberately casual and insouciant that it ignited her rage.

‘What is the meaning of this preposterous marriage alliance you have been negotiating with France?’ she demanded without preamble. ‘You could not even tell me but left it to your chancellor. That is rank cowardice.’ She spat the words at him. ‘You have betrayed me; you have betrayed my trust. How could you do this, Henry? How?’

He raised a warning forefinger from his cup. ‘You should not rile yourself; it is not good for the child. If I did not speak to you about it, it was because of your health and the idea might have come to nothing anyway. Physicians say it is unwise for a woman with child to excite herself with political matters lest her womb become displaced and she miscarry.’

Alienor almost choked on her fury. ‘You said you would not take me for granted, but you always do. It is as though I am but a marker on a bloodline with nothing for myself. A breeder of children.’

‘This is precisely the reason I did not want to involve you,’ he said self-righteously. ‘You lose all sense and reason when you are with child.’

‘You expect me to condone our son wedding into that bloodline? To marrying him to my former husband’s daughter? Dear God, Henry, it is not my wits that have gone wandering but yours!’

His eyes brightened with anger. ‘This match is a strong way of achieving accord; mingling our bloodline with that of France will make us more powerful. It will pave a path to peace and prosperity. You must put the past behind you and look to the future. Louis is agreeable to the match in principle. Bloodline appears to be no hindrance to him.’

‘How do you know how the girl will turn out? She is but a baby in the cradle.’

Henry gave her a pointed look. ‘How do any of us know how our spouses will turn out? You always take that gamble.’

‘She is half-sister to the daughters I bore Louis. Dear God, it is almost incest!’ Her belly heaved. Turning from him she ran to the garderobe and was wretchedly sick.

‘I will summon your women,’ Henry said implacably. ‘I told you this would make you ill, and I was right. Mark me, this is for the best and it will go forward. Accept it and be done, madam, because you have no other choice.’

That was what made her sick: the knowledge that she was trapped without a choice. Six years ago of her own free will she had married Henry FitzEmpress, hoping to create a golden future, but all she seemed to have had from him was a dross of broken promises, sharp-edged and tawdry.

Her women clustered around her in concern. Alienor waved them away and took to her bed, ordering them to draw the curtains so that she could have privacy to think.

Obviously she could do nothing to influence Henry; he thought it an excellent notion and would not change his mind. He and Becket were of one accord and the rest of the court would follow their lead above hers.

And yet she was the one who bore the heirs and controlled the nursery. The children were half hers and all in her keeping. A woman could wield power through her sons and daughters if she was astute. Even if little Harry was betrothed to a French princess, he would still be within Alienor’s sphere of influence. Like a patient general she had to bide her time.

‘Look, Mama, look!’

Alienor raised her head as Harry burst into the room, his small face shining. His father and Thomas Becket followed more sedately. Perched on Henry’s shoulder was a small brown monkey with a chain around its neck. It clutched a date in its dextrous leathery hands and was busily eating the fruit, and glancing around out of intelligent dark eyes set beneath bushy brows.

Alienor stared, not knowing whether to laugh or be dismayed. A monkey in the chamber was the last thing she needed. Her women were all cooing and making silly kissing noises with pursed lips.

‘Well, what do you think of this as a gift for Louis?’ Henry asked, chuckling. ‘I thought it could sit on his shoulder and give him advice since monkeys are renowned for their wisdom.’

‘It’s called Robert,’ Harry said earnestly. ‘I want to keep him.’

‘Ah no, my boy.’ Henry wagged his finger. ‘This is a gift for the King of France. When you are older, perhaps.’

Alienor raised her eyebrows. ‘Indeed, what a good idea,’ she said. ‘You could replace your own advisers with monkeys and all it would cost you would be a few bags of almonds and dates. Think of the saving.’

Henry grinned. ‘What do you say to that, Thomas? What if I were to replace you with a monkey?’

Becket smiled with vinegar on his lips. ‘I am sure you would find it most enlightening, sire.’

The monkey clambered on to Henry’s shoulder, wrapped its tail around his neck and began industriously searching his hair for lice.

Alienor burst out laughing. ‘Certainly it would perform more functions than you, Master Chancellor, and that would be a miracle!’

Henry grabbed the creature off his head, making it screech, and handed it back to Becket.

‘Master Thomas has got lots and lots of monkeys!’ Harry’s voice was high with excitement. He screwed up his face as he calculated. ‘Twelve! Come and see them, Mama, come and see!’ He seized her hand and tugged.

‘Why twelve?’ Alienor gave Thomas a cynical look. ‘Was one not enough?’

Thomas exchanged glances with Henry and smiled. ‘One to ride each packhorse bearing gifts when I enter Paris, madam,’ he said. ‘And then later they will be presented to select members of the French court.’

‘The intention is to show Louis how much wealth and power I have at my disposal,’ Henry said. ‘And also to make a spectacle for the French people.’ Henry slapped his chancellor’s shoulder in the same way he would slap a horse’s neck when it had performed well for him. ‘Thomas has been particularly inventive. Not only monkeys for wisdom, but a parrot that can say the paternoster and two golden eagles.’ His eyes sparkled with mirth and pride. ‘Not to mention assorted packs of hounds, guard dogs, and enough furs, fabrics and furniture to equip a palace.’

‘Is there anything left in the treasury, or are you giving it all to the French?’ she queried in a biting tone. It sounded like a vulgar assemblage of unprecedented proportions. What Louis with his aesthetic tastes would think of it all, she dreaded to think, but perhaps the rest of Paris would marvel. It sat ill with her that all this money and effort was being spent on soliciting a match of which she disapproved.

Thomas performed a suave bow. ‘Rest assured, madam, I have not spent beyond the King’s means.’

‘How good to know,’ Alienor replied disdainfully, but to humour Harry, and satisfy her own curiosity, she donned her cloak and allowed herself to be taken to see the fruits of Thomas’s toil.

The noise and the smell of the menagerie Becket had assembled was overwhelming. Alienor had to cover her nose with her wimple. There were packs of dogs as Henry had said. Black and tan slot-hounds with lugubrious features, floppy ears, and low yodelling barks. Curly-coated otter hounds from the Welsh borders. Darting terriers, yappy and energetic, and great golden mastiffs as big and muscular as lions for guarding the numerous wagons being assembled to carry the masses of gifts and baggage. Harry’s eyes were as wide as moons as he moved from area to area, cage to cage, exclaiming at everything he saw.

Henry took Alienor’s arm. ‘It will all be worth it, I promise.’

‘They do say that the more you pay, the more it is worth.’

He gave her a hard stare. ‘You have to look beyond the personal things to the long term. This alliance with France will give us the lands of the Vexin when Henry and Marguerite marry. Making peace with Louis will enable us to take an army down to Toulouse and restore it to the Duchy of Aquitaine. This is the means to achieve that goal.’

Alienor compressed her lips. She still thought all this show was about Thomas Becket’s desire for lavish gestures and Henry’s determination to outshine and overwhelm Louis with a flamboyant display of all the resources he possessed and Louis did not. It was no more than one dog pissing higher up the wall than a rival. Nevertheless, if they did gain the city of Toulouse, which she had long coveted for Aquitaine, then this circus might just be worth it.

‘Trust me,’ Henry said and smiled at her, with the broad, straight grin that she knew never to trust. Taking Harry in his arms, he went to look at the stable of horses Becket was assembling for the parade.