The Lion of Justice - Plaidy Jean - Страница 58

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Now for a while he would be the faithful husband of Matilda. She was not uncomely with her long fair hair and her swan-like neck, and it pleased him to congratulate himself on his temporary virtue. Moreover they needed more children. Two was a poor tally. Daughters were as valuable in the game of statecraft as pawns were in the game of chess. Young Matilda had proved that through the alliance with Germany. He had his son and heir it was true, but there should have been more. When he thought of his brother Richard’s death in the New Forest he remembered the grief in the home, but his father had remarked: ‘By the grace of God we have other sons.’ And so he had—too many as it turned out. Robert, Rufus and himself...and not enough land for poor Henry. But he was no longer poor Henry, for he had more than either of his brothers had had, which was what his father had prophesied. But what would have happened if Richard had been the only one?

What was the matter with Matilda that she had suddenly become barren? It was since she had discovered his peccadilloes and was almost as though her body declared that since he had fathered so many others he should have no more from her. Which was absurd, for she longed for more children even as he did.

So be it, he would be a faithful husband for the sake of his conscience and the hope of another son or even a daughter.

The great Abbey of Hyde which they had founded and endowed was now ready to be opened and Henry decided that they would make a grand ceremony of the opening; and since he felt, after his long absence in Normandy, he had need of placating the Saxon element of his country, he decided to honour one of the greatest of their kings.

The bones of King Alfred and his Queen Alswitha had been buried in Newminster chapel in Winchester and this seemed to Henry an appropriate moment to remind the people that not only was Matilda descended from Alfred the Great but he was also, for of Alfred’s three daughters one of them, Ethleswitha, had married Baldwin of Flanders and it was well-known that Henry’s mother Matilda was the daughter of another Baldwin of Flanders.

So in a brilliant ceremony the bones of the Great Alfred were taken from Newminster to Hyde and there Henry told the people that he found great satisfaction in honouring the greatest Saxon king from whom not only the Queen but he himself had descended.

The children accompanied their parents, for now that they were growing up Henry liked them to be seen as much as possible.

They had watched the ceremony of the burial of the bones with great interest and when they were alone together discussed it.

William said that he hoped when the time came for him to rule he would be as great a ruler as King Alfred had been.

‘You never will.’ retorted Matilda. ‘I should have been born the boy. I know it, and I am sure everyone agrees.’

‘They do not.’ declared William hotly. ‘Our father is pleased. He told me so and when he next goes to Normandy I am to go with him.’

‘To marry that girl! She is only the daughter of a vassal of our father. When I go it will be to marry an Emperor.’ She looked at Stephen and her expression softened. ‘But I don’t want to go now.’ she added. I don’t want to go one little bit.’

‘You won’t hate your going half as much as I shall.’ said Stephen, his face growing melancholy, which Matilda thought made it look more beautiful than ever.

‘Dear, dear Stephen!- The Emperor is an old man. I wish he were young and beautiful.’ She and Stephen exchanged smiles and she went on: ‘You think I’d make a better ruler than William will, don’t you, Stephen?’

Stephen was never at a loss for words. ‘I think you would both make the very best rulers it is possible to have.’

Matilda went to him and threw her arms about his neck. She loved kissing Stephen. She thought him the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. Stephen returned her kiss lingeringly.

William watched them and said: ‘Stephen always says what people like hearing, but it is not always what he means.’

‘William is trying to be clever.’ retorted Matilda watching Stephen.

‘He doesn’t have to try, he is.’ replied Stephen, always the diplomat, making sure that his replies could never be taken amiss by any member of the company.

Stephen had the cleverest tongue of all the young people at Court, it had been said. He was very popular with the women. Matilda knew that he often did what he should not do. Many of these women had husbands. She had heard it said: ‘He will be another such as the King.’

Matilda would have liked to share Stephen’s adventures. It was a little game between them. There was so much he would like her to share with him but always he remembered that she was the King’s daughter, an Empress to be, and Stephen’s position at the Court was one which had been given him by the bounty of his uncle. His home was really in Blois and his parents had impressed on him that when in England he must do nothing to displease the King or Queen for if he did such action might result in his being sent back to Blois, his prospects in ruins.

He knew the King and Queen well. The Queen must never hear of his little adventures; if the King did—and he believed he had—he would shrug his shoulders and laugh, for he had had very similar adventures when he was Stephen’s age. But of course if Matilda were involved in those adventures it would be a very different matter.

Matilda knew this too. It was a titillating situation though. She wondered how she would have felt if she had been able to marry Stephen. Very excited she believed and looking forward to the consummation.

But Stephen was not for her. He was merely a humble son of the Court of Blois and not even the eldest son. He was only at the Court because his mother was her father’s favourite sister and she had asked the King to look after Stephen’s future.

Matilda was reserved for a far more glorious match; but she was not sure now whether she would have preferred to be the wife of Stephen of Blois or the Emperor of Germany.

Until Stephen had begun to fascinate her with his good looks, his lazy ways and his gallant speeches she had been absolutely sure that the finest thing in the world was to be a great Empress.

* * * * *

It was spring when the embassy arrived from Germany. From a window the young Matilda watched their arrival. She knew, of course, for what purpose they came. For the first time she began to feel afraid. It was one thing to be told when one was seven years old that great honour had been done to one, the result of which was that one would be the wife of a great ruler and an Empress. But when one was twelve years old and began to understand something of the meaning of marriage, it was a different matter.

She was going to a man she had never seen. He was forty years older than she was. She would be conducted to his country with great ceremonies which her proud heart loved and that was well enough if only she did not have to arrive. But she would, and in the not very distant future. Then there would be the greatest ceremony of all, and after that...she shivered.

She was frightened. She, Matilda, the bold one, who had sworn to William and the other children that she was never frightened of anything! She was frightened of this old man who would be her husband; and she did not want to leave her home to go and be his Empress.

Someone was standing behind her. She knew who it was before she turned, for he too would come to see the arrival.

‘Stephen,’ she said with a little catch in her voice.

She turned to him and threw herself at him. He put his arms about her and stroked her hair.

‘This means I shall soon be gone, Stephen.’ she said.

‘I know.’

‘Oh, Stephen, what am I going to do?’

He did not answer. He went on stroking her hair.

‘I don’t want to be married to him. I don’t want to be an Empress.’

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