The Lion of Justice - Plaidy Jean - Страница 61

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He must resign himself to Matilda of Boulogne instead of Matilda of England.

* * * * *

Mary was delighted and went to Bermondsey to acquaint her daughter that she was to be betrothed to Stephen of Blois.

The Queen missed her. She missed her daughter too, for the children’s apartments were so quiet without the dominating Matilda. And now Stephen was to marry and presumably would leave Court. The next would be William; but at least he would not have to go away.

It was comforting to have Henry in England although he must keep a continual watch on the situation in Normandy, and at any moment he would be called away to deal with some rising.

He had not been to Wales to visit Nesta for some time and she knew that he prayed that a son might be born to him and the Queen.

She did not tell him that she was often very tired and suffered from breathlessness at certain exertions. She tried her best to disguise her ill health. Henry did not like sick people about him, and he could not understand why it was that she did not become pregnant. The fault could not be his; he had proved that many times over.

‘Only two children,’ he brooded. ‘‘Tis not for want of trying.’

He could not understand it. He only had to spend a week or so with a new mistress and she would be telling him she was enceinte very soon. It was particularly galling to have so many fine sons and daughters born outside wedlock and to have merely two legitimate ones. He was pleased with them. Matilda was a daughter to be proud of and the German alliance would set the King of France shivering in his shoes. He wished he had six daughters that he might marry them to the enemies of the King of France; he would plant them all along his borders and that would show fat Louis that Henry was capable of beating him at more than a game of chess.

William was the delight of his life; and the more barren Matilda seemed to have become the more was he drawn to William.

William was a fine looking boy...and a good boy too. He had inherited the Norman characteristics of the family. He was gentle-tempered though—something rare—yet brave and making progress in the art of chivalry. A son to be proud of. He would be a good king of England.

‘If only there was another boy,’ Henry used to say to Matilda. I’d give him Normandy, but I’d make William and him swear to be allies. This fighting in families brings no good.’

‘Why does it have to go on? Robert is your prisoner in Cardiff Castle. You are Duke of Normandy as well as King. Why do not these miserable risings cease?’

‘Because I allowed the Clito to go free. Had I imprisoned him as was my intention there would be no figurehead to rally them. Clito is only young as yet but he is the thorn in my side, Matilda. In future I shall take my own counsel. That boy should be in an English prison with his father, not roaming

the Duchy held up as the rightful duke by my rebellious subjects.’

‘But now that you have affianced William to Anjou’s daughter.’

‘William is young for marriage. I must needs postpone the ceremony for a few years.’

‘But the betrothal is firm?’

‘Ay, and Louis likes it not. But I don’t altogether trust Fulk of Anjou.’

‘But surely he would do nothing to prevent his daughter’s marriage to the heir of England?’

‘I think not. But it is long ere the marriage will be celebrated. I would to God we had more children that I might make matches for them.’

This was a reproach which stung Matilda to retort: ‘Perhaps God has given you so many out of wedlock that He has seen fit to restrict the number within it.’

‘He has given us an indication that the fault does not lie with me.’

It was a near quarrel, for this subject was a sore one with Henry, but they avoided it. Quarrelling was not the way to get children.

* * * * *

Mary had arrived at Court with her daughter. When the young Matilda met the man who was to be her husband she was enchanted with him. Stephen was some seventeen years of age; he was good-looking but his charm of manner would have made him attractive even had he been less handsome. He had a habit of putting everyone at ease; even the humblest were treated well by him. He was indolent by nature; to charm required little effort from him, and he was shrewd enough to realize that the popularity he acquired by this would be useful to him.

Even his uncle, the King, was affected by his manners and had favoured him because he could not help liking him.

Stephen’s reaction to his bride was not so enthusiastic. She was fair enough but very young and quite innocent. At his age he preferred mature women. Poor little Matilda would be a trifle dull, but her adoration was pleasant so he set out to charm her—such an easy task which offered no challenge and was therefore not very exciting. But he must remember that she was the Queen’s niece and that he was not an eldest son, so he must be grateful for such a match. He was a fool ever to have thought of that other Matilda.

The King was amused by the bride’s obvious infatuation with her husband-to-be. He talked to Stephen about it. ‘She reminds me of the Queen before our marriage,’ he said. ‘She was abbey-bred and as innocent as your bride. She took too high an opinion of me, just as this child is taking of you. It is, alas, a shock to them when they discover our true natures.’

He took Stephen to the Tower Royal, a palace situated close to Watling Street and Cheapside. Henry had built it not long before. He asked Stephen what he thought of this new palace.

‘A palace I’ replied Stephen. ‘Why, sir, it is a mighty fortress. It is almost as solid as the Tower of London.’

‘I like it well,’ said Henry, ‘and the reason I shall give it away is not that it has found disfavour with me. It is yours, Stephen. It is my gift to you and my niece.’

‘My lord, you are generous.’

‘I forget not your loyalty to me. While it lasts, nephew, you will have my favour.’

‘I shall pray to be worthy of your kindness, sir.’

‘We are of a family. Your mother was always my favourite sister. It has pleased me greatly to do something for her son.’

‘My lord, I shall serve you with my life.’

The King bowed his head and an expression of rare softness came into his face.

‘I would you had been born my son, Stephen,’ he said.

Stephen replied, ‘Those words, sir, give me greater pleasure than your magnificent gift.’

* * * * *

The wedding ceremony took place without delay, and Stephen of Blois and Matilda of Boulogne were husband and wife.

There were feasting and ceremonies; and the Queen and her sister were constantly in each other’s company.

When the married pair settled in the Tower Royal Mary went back to Bermondsey where she decided to stay for a while before she made the journey back to Boulogne.

As the King remained in England he decided it would be good to travel about the country, staying in the castles and palaces of his loyal subjects as he went.

Like the rest of his family he delighted in fine buildings and admired the best architecture, so it was always a great pleasure to visit castles which either he, his brother Rufus or his father had built. They were indeed becoming part of the English countryside and it was impossible to go far without coming upon the formidable looking piles with their turrets and arches. The latest to be built was Woodstock, a palace to be proud of, and the park was delightful.

Also like his father and Rufus, Henry loved wild animals. Not only did he wish to hunt them, he liked to observe them. He discussed with Matilda the possibility of filling the park with wild animals. These of course would have to be kept in enclosures; and he believed a great deal of pleasure would be derived from sauntering through the park and watching the animals from as close quarters as was possible.

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