The Queen From Provence - Plaidy Jean - Страница 20
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She was flushed with success. It had been so easy to get Henry to agree to her attendants remaining. Of course a high post for her uncle would be a more delicate matter … but it was a challenge she would enjoy.
It was amusing, exhilarating and gratifying to show everyone what influence she already had over her husband and it would be her aim to gain more and more.
When Henry saw her delight in the company of her uncle he determined to share it. He was so happy in his marriage that he wanted everyone to know how he appreciated his Queen. Not only was she very beautiful but her love of literature, her ability to write, to sing and understand music accorded so well with his own nature that he assured himself that he had found the perfect wife.
Like him, she wanted children and he was certain that before long such a union as theirs would be fruitful. In those first months he was in a state of such euphoria regarding his marriage that he was completely happy. He wanted to give her everything she asked.
Eleanor, basking in the approval of her husband and the uncle whom she had been brought up to respect, was very pleased with her lot; and when she thought how it had been brought about by the cleverness of Romeo de Villeneuve – and herself of course – she never failed to marvel. There were frequent communications with her family and Romeo wrote to her too. She and Uncle William read these despatches and what she wanted more than anything was to bring good to her family which meant not only Provence but Savoy, the home of her ambitious uncles.
Between the doting of her husband and her uncle Eleanor felt herself to be a very cherished person indeed. It often happened that when Eleanor and Henry were alone together Uncle William would join them. Then they would discuss state matters, so close to Uncle William’s heart, and he would put forth his point of view to which Henry listened with something like reverence.
Within a few months of her arrival in England friends began to come from Provence and Savoy. Eleanor was so delighted to receive them that Henry had to be too; and when she suggested that they should be given posts, how could he disappoint her by refusing?
It seemed at that time that there was only one shadow on their happiness: Eleanor’s inability to become pregnant.
Henry soothed her. ‘You are but a child my love,’ he told her. ‘We are apt to forget your youth because of your wisdom, but it is true. Don’t fret. We shall succeed in time. Then I’ll swear you will have the finest sons and daughters. They must be so … if they resemble you.’
Such devotion seemed somewhat fatuous to the Court. Some sought to take advantage of it and one of these was Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester. Simon had decided to try his fortunes in England which, because of the lands which his father had held, and which the King had allowed him to retain, and because of the title of Earl of Leicester which had come to him, he felt might be more profitable than France. Twice he had sought advantageous marriages – and both with wealthy middle-aged widows, the Countesses of Boulogne and Flanders. On both occasions the King of France had frustrated his hopes. So it was understandable that he had turned his back on France. Henry had been kind to him; under the influence of the Queen Henry was becoming more and more inclined to smile on foreigners, especially those who could ingratiate themselves with the Queen. Simon was considered a foreigner by those Englishmen who were eager not to have strangers poaching on their land. Recently he had started to have very high hopes. His rather prominent dark eyes glistened at the thought. Of course it would be frowned on. It would not be easy; but the King’s sister Eleanor was a very determined young woman and once she had made up her mind it would be hard to divert her. It was a wild dream perhaps … but who could say that it might not come true. In the meantime he must join William de Valence and show that he would be a good supporter – because if he were to advance it would more likely be through the foreign influence than that of the English.
William de Valence had already a following in the country but his ambitions were growing rather too big for him to control. It was not possible for this state of affairs to pass unnoticed. There were whispers. ‘What is happening at Court?’ ‘Is it true that there are secret meetings between William de Valence and his friends?’ ‘Can it be that these foreigners are trying to rule our country? This is due to the Queen. The foreigners came with her. The King receives them to please her and they are making a puppet of him.’
When the Queen rode out in the streets sullen looks came her way. Someone daringly shouted at her: ‘Go home. We don’t want foreigners here.’
It was shattering to her. She had believed that everyone must be charmed by her good looks.
The King had not been with her when it had happened and she had gone at once to him, almost in tears.
He had soothed her. ‘It must have been a madman,’ he said. ‘People of good sense must love you.’
‘It was not only what was shouted. It was the way they looked at me … as though they hated me.’
‘Oh, the people are fickle. Hosanna one day … crucify Him the next.’
‘I don’t want them to crucify me. I want them to love me.’
‘I shall command them to,’ declared the uxorious husband.
But it was not as easy as that.
Richard called on his brother. He said that he wished to speak to him entirely alone.
‘You do not realise it, Henry,’ he said, ‘but there is growing unrest throughout the country. I have had it from several of the barons. They don’t like what’s happening.’
‘I fail to understand,’ said Henry coldly.
‘That is why those who wish you well must enlighten you. If you do not stop this pampering of foreigners the barons will be in revolt. It will be our father’s troubles all over again.’
‘I will not have it.’
‘Alas, it is a matter in which one has no choice. The barons are meeting … as they have done before. They are talking about Magna Carta and you know what that means. It is even said that William de Valence is gathering together a council of foreigners in secret and that they are your advisers.’
Henry turned pale. It was true that he did discuss matters of state with William and some of those friends of whom he was growing fond. He scarcely saw Hubert de Burgh now, nor the leading earls and barons. He knew that Edmund of Canterbury was displeased with him, and he was always afraid of antagonising the Church. He could picture Richard’s placing himself at the head of his critics; and he knew from what had happened in his father’s case that they were capable of desperate acts to get rid of a King who displeased them. And there was Richard – the barons’ friend, ready to serve them if they should decide to take the crown from one brother and place it on the head of the other.
He had been rather foolish. He had been so happy with his fair Eleanor, he had welcomed her friends and her relations and they were more interesting to him than many of the English barons. They liked poetry and music; they liked discussion and subtle conversation; and could it really be that while they charmed him with these, they wrung concessions from him which were the cause of dissatisfaction?
Richard said: ‘There is much to occupy you, brother, and the English will never be ruled by others than themselves.’
‘That was not so when our father was on the throne. Didn’t they invite the French to come over and rule them?’
‘Henry, let us look the truth in the face. There was never a King such as our father. He committed every known folly. They were determined to be rid of him. But when you came to the throne how long did it take England to rid herself of foreigners?’
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