Plantagenet 1 - The Plantagenet Prelude Read Online Free PDF Page B

the eyes shine, a draught to stir a reluctant lover.
    ‘Dost think that I shall need to make one for you -‘
    He caught her hand and looked into her face.
    ‘No,’ he said, vehemently. ‘That will not be necessary.’
    ‘Then you find my charms enough for you, my lord?’
    ‘Enough indeed.’
    ‘So that you long for our marriage?’
    ‘I yearn for the day,’ he told her.
    She drew back, laughing at him.
    Not bad for my monk, she confided afterwards to Petronelle.
    The Abbe Suger, seeing how their relationship was ripening, believed there should be no delaying the marriage. It was true Eleonore was in mourning for her father’s recent death but this was a State marriage and the sooner it was solemnised the better for everyone concerned.
    He mentioned this to the Prince and was amazed by the alacrity with which he - once so reluctant - agreed.
    ‘The Duchess of Aquitaine is an enchantress,’ said the Abbe.
    It was July when the wedding took place.
    Eleonore’s women dressed her in her glittering wedding gown and she wore her long hair flowing. She sat on her glitteringly caparisoned horse and rode through the streets of Bordeaux to Saint Andrew’s Church where the ceremony was to be performed by the Archbishop of Bordeaux. What a day of triumph for the bride! Only a year ago she had wondered whether she would be robbed of her inheritance by a half-brother. But Fate had intervened. No one could come between her and her ambition now.
    She was exultant and only a little sad that she had had to come to her triumph through the death of a father who, in her way, she had loved well enough. But there was no doubt of her success.
    Duchess of Aquitaine with none to dispute her claim and soon - she believed very soon and so did everyone else - Queen of France.

    Eleonore blossomed. Sensual in the extreme she found marriage to her taste. Poor Louis was a little less ardent - although there was no doubt that he loved her with a deeper emotion than she could muster for him. Eleonore loved love; she had known she would when as a very young girl she had sung of it in the gardens. There, love had been glorified - romantic love. She wanted that, but she wanted physical love as well. She it was who led the way in passion. She might have been experienced in such arts; this was not the case; he was her first lover; but with her there was a natural knowledge and understanding.
    They were glorious summer days, spent in watching the celebrations for their wedding and nights spent in making love.
    There was music and singing and Eleonore was initiating him into an appreciation for the chansons and poems at which she excelled. It was a delightful existence but of course it could not continue. The contests and tournaments in the castle grounds must come to an end, for the Prince must return to Paris with his bride.
    She had through him become the Princess of France; through her he must become the Duke of Aquitaine.
    Everywhere they went they were met by rejoicing crowds. Such an alliance all knew could bring nothing but good. The people of Aquitaine could shelter beneath the golden lilies of France and the kingdom of France had gathered a powerful neighbour into its eager embrace.
    This could only mean more hopes of peace and as what was more dreaded than anything by the humble people were armies invading their homes and carrying off their goods and women, this was a desirable state of affairs.
    They had reached Poitiers and were enjoying a great welcome there, when the Abbe Suger came to their apartment in the castle where they had been given hospitality, and it was clear from his expression that he was the bearer of ill news.
    He was not a man to break bad news gently.
    He bowed low. ‘Long live the King!’ he said.
    And Louis knew that his fears were realised and Eleonore that her ambition was achieved.
    Her husband was now the King and she was the Queen of France.
    ‘So my father has gone,’ said Louis blankly.
    ‘He passed away in