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Authors: Elizabeth Chadwick

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BOOK: The Autumn Throne
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He glanced at his wife who was busy sorting through a clothing chest, her back turned and her movements erratic as she tugged and pulled, but he thought little of it, other than to note she was engaged as usual in some mysterious female domestic business.

‘Belle,
play for me,’ he said.

His eldest daughter fetched her harp and perched on a footstool at his feet. Her plait of rich brown hair swung forward and she flicked it back with a graceful movement of her wrist and a smile for her father. She was an accomplished musician, her fingers pliant as ribbons, weaving the tune through the strings. Matilda clambered into his lap for a cuddle and he curved his arm around her lithe, small body in tender protection. Having been closeted with Henry for most of the day he was in desperate need of this family moment to cleanse himself of the murk of the court. He constantly praised God that he had such joy at the heart of his family when others lacked all sustenance.

Later, after the girls had kissed him and retired to bed, overseen by their nurses, and his son had similarly departed, he turned to Isabel and patted the bench.

‘Come, you have been very quiet tonight. Bring me a cup of wine and sit a while.’

She did as he asked, but he marked her preoccupation. Something was gnawing on her bones, but she would tell him in her own time and he was not the kind to seek trouble unnecessarily. He took the wine and stretched out his legs towards the fire. ‘I suppose you have heard about Henry’s plan to annul his marriage to Alienor?’ he asked.

When she did not answer he looked up and was in time to see her face crumple as she burst into tears. Astonished and dismayed, Hamelin took her hand. ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ she choked. ‘I will be all right by and by.’

‘Come now, is it what I have just said?’ He wondered if she believed her own position was threatened by the news. ‘It is not as though I am going to ask for annulment from you. Why are you so upset?’

‘I … I’m not upset,’ Isabel sobbed, mortified that she could not hold herself together in her own household which was supposed to be Hamelin’s haven of peace and tranquillity.

‘To
the contrary I can see that you are. Tell me.’

‘It’s Alienor,’ she wept. ‘She … she turned on me when I suggested that an annulment was for the best. Told me to go away and that I did not understand. It was as if I was her enemy, and all I have ever done for her is as nothing!’

Hamelin grimaced. Much as he loved his wife, her sensitivity sometimes made matters awkward, and he had no intention of becoming embroiled in a woman’s spat. Whatever Henry’s foibles, schemes and rages, they were far more easily dealt with than issues involving women. ‘Calm yourself, my love,’ he soothed. ‘I have lost count of the occasions Henry has ordered me from his presence because he has disagreed with something I have said, or just because he is angry with everyone. He needs me when it comes to the crux – as Alienor needs you, whatever she says to the contrary.’ He made a wry face. ‘We are their props even when they spurn us. Have some wine and dry your eyes. It will pass.’

‘So,’ he said when eventually her tears had turned to occasional snuffles and he had refreshed her cup. ‘Alienor is not disposed towards an annulment then?’

Isabel gave a small shake of her head. ‘No. She was like a lioness when I said it might be for the best.’ She twisted the damp square of linen she had used to mop her eyes. ‘Even if Henry sends her back to Sarum or puts her in a dungeon, she will still refuse him.’

A pained expression crossed Hamelin’s face. Henry and Alienor’s marital difficulties were a cause of friction far beyond their personal arena. He wasn’t at all surprised at Alienor’s contrary response to Henry’s suggestion.

‘Has Henry told you why he wants an annulment?’ she asked.

‘He says he desires a clean cut to sever himself from Alienor. She will be honourably occupied with duties at Amesbury and he will be free to continue with his own life.’

‘Alienor thinks Henry is belittling her.’ Isabel gave him a searching look. ‘The rumours have not gone away that he is
planning a marriage to Alais of France or to Rosamund de Clifford.’

Hamelin shrugged. ‘The gossips will always create fire from sparks. Knowing my brother he will do neither because of the upheaval it would cause. One is betrothed to his son and the other is a mere baron’s daughter. He is not that foolish.’ He pulled her to him and gave her a kiss. ‘You must distance yourself. That is the only way to stay safe and survive.’

‘Yes, you are right.’ Isabel leaned into him, seeking comfort.

‘I have some other news that might be more to your taste,’ he announced after a moment. ‘Henry tells me Sicilian envoys will be arriving with a marriage offer from their king to our niece Joanna. If their terms are acceptable, Henry is going to agree.’

‘I knew it had been mooted, but I had not realised … it is far away for the child.’

‘It is Joanna’s destiny to make a great marriage and foster good relations between the countries. She knows that, and you have prepared her well. By all accounts the bridegroom is handsome and well disposed, and the Sicilian court is one of the most prestigious in Christendom.’

‘It is a good match and I am pleased for the great future she will have, but I shall miss her. So will Belle.’

‘It is her duty,’ Hamelin said firmly. ‘It is what she was born to.’

‘I was born to it too. I might have been England’s queen.’ Isabel thought of her first husband who had been heir to the throne and had stepped aside for Henry. If fate had been different, Alienor’s crown would have been hers. ‘I am glad I am not; it would have broken my heart to let our daughters go at so young an age. How soon must Joanna leave if it is agreed?’

‘By the autumn.’

Hamelin’s white gazehound leaped up on the other side of the bench, circled several times and then settled, resting her muzzle on Hamelin’s thigh.

‘Henry
wants me to escort her there and see her safely bestowed.’ A smile lit in his eyes. ‘You are to come too, so the time for parting is not quite at hand. What do you say to that?’

Isabel pulled back from him and then she laughed in surprised pleasure. ‘I do not know what to say! It is a prestigious undertaking, and there will be much to do.’ She thought of all the items for a bride’s wedding chest, and the new garments and trousseau that would have to be assembled, not to mention the organising of a new household for Joanna. Henry would not allow Alienor to do it, that was for certain. She hastily stopped thinking about Alienor before she began crying again.

‘Indeed there will, but say nothing for now,’ he warned. ‘Do not go making a great display of packing the baggage.’

‘Of course not!’ She gave him an indignant look. ‘I can keep secrets!’

‘I know you can,’ he mollified her, and then grinned. ‘It will be a fine opportunity to bring home silks from the Sicilian workshops for gowns, and wall hangings, hmm?’

Isabel gave a mock flounce. ‘I might just suspect you of offering sweetmeats to comfort me.’

‘What is wrong with that? What pleases you pleases me because it brings harmony to my household – and I value that above all things.’

‘I value it too.’ She bit her lip in contrition. ‘I am sorry.’

‘For what? Having a gentle heart?’ Tilting her face to his, he kissed her. ‘I treasure that in you too.’

Isabel responded warmly before drawing back again. ‘You say it will pass, but words are easier than deeds. What should I do about Alienor?’

He gave a pragmatic shrug. ‘Do nothing. Let the dust settle. Alienor has few enough allies that she can afford to spurn your friendship and counsel. Let her come to you, but do not expect an apology. Neither she nor Henry has it in them.’

Isabel shooed the dog away, and perching in Hamelin’s lap, curled
her arms around his neck. ‘I never want that to happen between us,’ she said with vehemence, ‘that we should come to a divide in the path and go our separate ways in anger.’

Hamelin wrapped his arm around her waist. ‘We must all sleep alone in the tomb, my love, but in life we are joined as one flesh – as our children attest. I am not Henry, you are not Alienor – God forbid.’

They went to bed and made love thoroughly and tenderly, something they had not done in a while, because the routines of life and the court had left no time or energy for such expression. When they fell asleep, they were spooned against each other like a complete chirograph, two halves of one whole.

5
Winchester Castle, Easter Court, April 1176

Alienor sat across a chess board from Richard. A damp spring dusk was darkening into nightfall; the shutters had been closed and lamps and candles cast the chamber in grainy amber light, deep with shadows. Henry was absent, as was the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London, which was ominous, but not in a way that gave Alienor cause for fear. Rather she was sourly amused, for she knew perfectly well what was taking place.

Between moves on the board, she pressed on with her sewing despite the poor light, determined to finish the embroidered piece before she and Joanna parted company – which might be imminent if Henry sent her back to Sarum in punishment for her obstinacy.

Richard rubbed his chin, considering his next move. His red-gold hair tumbled over his brow and she suppressed a
maternal urge to push it away from his eyes. He was very much the man now and any soft gesture from her would be interpreted as fussing.

He had more pieces than her, but although she seemed to be at a disadvantage in terms of what she had left, she continued to hold him off. She was making him work hard, and a deep frown made two vertical lines between his eyebrows as he moved his knight.

Alienor deliberately responded with a ploy that loosened the situation and allowed him through. In part it was a sacrifice, but it was also a trap, because depending on his judgement he could either win or be destroyed. He reached out strong, slender fingers, but then hesitated. A slow smile curved his lips as he changed his mind, and made a different move that avoided her trap. He looked at her, acknowledging her ruse, and exulting that he had seen through it.

‘I am proud of you,’ Alienor praised. ‘In the old days you would have moved first and cursed yourself afterwards.’

He gave a narrow smile. ‘I would be a fool not to have learned from past mistakes.’ His frown returned with increased intensity. ‘Mama, I wish there was something I could do about … about your situation.’

She reached across the board and took his hand. Although smooth across the back with youth, it belonged to an active man, and his palms were callused. ‘As do I, but we must be practical. For the moment your father controls the board and you must decide how best to serve your future. If it means cooperating with him do so, but never lose sight of your own goals.’

His mouth twisted to the right, a mannerism from young boyhood when confronted with something distasteful. ‘He has set me the task of keeping order in Poitou, and I need more resources to quell the unrest. Aimery de Thouars is up in arms because Papa has denied him his wife’s inheritance rights and has used them instead to enrich my little brother.’

Alienor grimaced too. ‘The only matter in which your father
can be trusted is to make life difficult. He will employ you in Poitou but he will still control the finances and keep you beholden to him. Be on your guard.’

‘That goes without saying, Mama.’

They finished their game, Richard winning because she had deliberately given him the chance in order to see how he would react. As he leaned back from the game and took a drink from his goblet, she said, ‘Your father has asked for an annulment to our marriage, and I have refused. I have told him that hell will freeze over first, and that is why he is currently shut away with his bishops. He desires to send me into retirement as the new abbess at Amesbury.’

Richard almost choked on his wine and anger flashed in his eyes. ‘Dear God, Mama, is this what he calls making peace?’

‘I do not think the religious life would suit me, it is true.’

A red flush crawled up his face. ‘He cannot do this. I shall—’

‘You shall do nothing,’ she interrupted firmly. ‘Let me deal with it.’

Richard’s flush darkened. Even if he had managed to control his impetuousness, the lesson was not yet ingrained. ‘But he disparages you, and he sets us all at naught. I will not let him do this!’

‘What did I say about learning to look before you leap? It behoves you not to become involved because you need his resources to manage Poitou. While you have that military control, you have power of a kind, even if you still owe it to him. Do not worry; he shall not have his annulment.’

Richard breathed out hard. ‘Have you told my brothers?’

‘Not yet; I have not had an opportunity to speak with them. But I want all of you to behave with restraint.’

Still fulminating, Richard flicked at one of the chess pieces, revulsion plain on his face. ‘You must have heard the rumours about him plotting to marry Alais. Everyone treats it as an outrageous jest but I am not so sure.’

BOOK: The Autumn Throne
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