Royal Weddings...Through the Ages. Elizabeth Rolls

said what?’ he demanded, not believing the words spoken by the man playing messenger to a seemingly reluctant woman.

      ‘The queen—’

      ‘No longer.’

      ‘The duchess would like to continue the negotiations in person.’

      He roared out his anger and frustration, effectively clearing the chamber of all who would take cover from him at times like this. More effective sometimes than a mild request, he used it when needed. Times like this when he did not wish to appear too conciliatory or needy, or when there were issues to discuss that were better done without an audience.

      But need her, he did.

      And the man facing him now seemed to grasp all that he would hide from others, and more.

      ‘Speak,’ he ordered. Henry walked around the perimeter of the chamber as he listened.

      ‘She seems to favour your suit over others,’ the knight admitted quietly. Henry sensed it was a difficult disclosure for this man sworn to the duchess’s personal safety and honour. ‘Over others who have tried to force the issue.’

      Henry considered the words and their intended result. He remembered meeting the then Queen of France at her husband’s court last autumn. Though well-mannered and quiet as befit the wife of the monk-turned-king, her vitality and thirst for life was barely constrained and he recognised the kindred spirit within her. All knew her story, but he wondered where the truth lay. Meeting the knight’s gaze, he studied the man.

      ‘Have you fallen under her spell as well as the others? Do you love your lady as her uncle did?’ There were even rumours about his own father and Eleanor but he would leave that unspoken now. ‘Do you share such scandalous nights as she did with him to warrant forcible custody by her rightful husband?’ he goaded.

      The man moved so quickly that he rivalled Henry himself and surprised him. In only a few seconds Henry found this Godfroi of Poitiers confronting him, so close that he could feel the man’s exhalations on his face.

      ‘Spiteful stories spun and told to shame and humiliate her.’ He swore something truly insulting and yet inventive in Latin under his breath. ‘I thought better of you than this, Your Grace.’

      The title spoken like another curse, Henry did not know whether to call for his guards or be ashamed.

      ‘The bishops have spoken of little else in their sermons from nearly every pulpit in France. Her shameful behaviour in Antioch that caused the Holy Crusade to fail and that caused God to curse her husband with only daughters.’ Henry watched as every word was like a blow to this warrior’s own honour. ‘Surely the shepherds of God’s church know the truth?’

      ‘They shepherd not God’s church, Your Grace. They see to their own aspirations and ambitions. Much as they do in your England.’ Henry smiled then and stepped back from Godfroi. He had the same concerns about the power of the church in the secular world.

      ‘And to what do you aspire, Godfroi of Poitiers? If you do not aspire to have the queen for your own, what benefit is overseeing these negotiations to you?’ Every man had his price and Henry sought to know this man’s since his part in this was crucial. ‘A title? Land? Why do you remain loyal to this woman when so many have abandoned her?’

      ‘I aspire to fulfil my sworn duty to my liege lady. That is all. I would see her placed with a husband strong enough to see to her dower lands and to her person.’

      ‘And your price?’

      Godfroi sputtered then and turned away, a bold move for a knight in the presence of a duke and soon king of all England.

      ‘When I am content that her future is settled, I will enter the service of God.’

      Henry was not easily surprised but this man had managed it. Giving up all worldly goods and taking vows of poverty, chastity and obedience were not what he would have expected to hear. ‘You are not an old man and yet you would give up the world and all its pleasures?’ Godfroi looked surprised by Henry’s question, but accepted it.

      ‘My wife died a few years ago, Your Grace, and I have no intention of remarrying. And, in spite of her first husband’s leanings, the duchess has given me permission to resign from her service and enter God’s.’

      Henry did laugh then, both at this man’s manner and words, for he did not mince either and Henry would like such a man in his own service. Appeased by the answers and understanding that this knight would stand behind him and not between him and his lady, Henry nodded.

      ‘Make the arrangements. I will plead my own case to your duchess.’

      Godfroi left the duke with his advisors and returned to Eleanor with the arrangements for his visit. He wondered as he told her of them whether this was a good idea or not.

      He’d watched the previous marriage, one that had been questioned as to validity from its start, begin, flare and then crumble. His lady now had the opportunity that most women only dreamt of—to choose her husband—and he wanted to counsel her well. After meeting Henry, Duke of Normandy and Count of Anjou, Godfroi knew they would make a spectacular match.

      Together they would claim huge areas and wealth and control more of France than their liege, King Louis. Once Henry made good on his efforts to claim England as his, and Godfroi did not doubt that he could and would, they would be a force to be reckoned with in all the world.

      Godfroi smiled then, thinking of the woman Eleanor, and he knew that Henry would be a better match for the highly educated, intelligent, shrewd, worldly, passionate woman she was than Louis could ever hope to be. Oh, there would be problems—most likely loud and raucous problems—but there could be great passion… and love between these two.

      He had no doubt that their names and the story of their lives together would carry down through generations and history; he just prayed he would survive it all.

       Chapter Two

      Eleanor sat in a simple chair and watched him enter the solar. A room decorated for comfort and pleasure to her own tastes, it did not have a dais or high throne as the great hall did. The women attending her embroidered or worked on tapestries and gave her command to ignore him a valiant if unsuccessful effort.

      Accompanied only by Godfroi, he strode into this nest of women and walked about as though he already owned it. Arrogance filled every step, but at the same time, he wooed and won every woman there. He greeted each of them, bowing gallantly before them, asking their names and inquiring about their positions in her court. Only when he’d spoken to each of them did he turn his attentions to her.

      She lost her breath at the intensity of his gaze on her!

      Their last encounter had been in the midst of a formal court event and Louis had been at her side. Although she never missed the opportunity to appreciate male beauty, her behaviour that day had been the most circumspect of her life for the end of her marriage was under consideration and she’d do nothing to interfere with that. So, she’d watched him from beneath her lashes, noticing his strong warrior’s body and close-cropped curly reddish hair and shrewd grey eyes. More than that, he exuded a love of life like the one she kept hidden these past years.

      His gown, though of expensive fabric, was plain and unadorned and he wore a short cloak over it as was his habit. Henry did not wear expensive jewels nor try to impress others with such accoutrements; he used the force of his will and his drive to take all that was his to capture others.

      ‘Your Grace,’ he said as he approached her. ‘It is kind of you to receive me.’

      She wanted to laugh, for Godfroi had given her a rather colourful report about Henry’s actual response to her demands for this meeting. That he tried to be gracious, even if only in public, made her smile. Rising, she offered her hand to him. They would meet as equals, for other than her sex, they were equal in status… for now.

      ‘And you are gracious in attending me here, Your