The Queen From Provence - Plaidy Jean - Страница 60

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It was sad, said Eleanor, that all the children were growing up. Particularly so with daughters who must leave their home and family.

John de Dreux, the Duke of Brittany, had offered for Beatrice and as it was a good match and one which would be advantageous to England and it was time Beatrice was married, there could be no excuse for not accepting it.

What had happened to Margaret had made the Queen very apprehensive. She said she wished she had had all boys and then there would not have been the same need for them to leave the country.

However, the alliance was accepted and Beatrice prepared to leave for Brittany.

The King, who had business in France, was to accompany her but in view of the state of the country it seemed unwise that the Queen should go also.

‘You will have Edward to help you, my dearest,’ said Henry, ‘and rest assured that I shall return as soon as possible.’

The Queen was in a way not sorry to remain. By accompanying the party she would have had a little longer with her daughter but at least she was spared that harrowing moment when Beatrice was formally handed over to a stranger. That seemed to her most distressing and she would never forget seeing little Margaret married to Alexander of Scotland.

She said good-bye to the King and her daughter and went back to Windsor where she was finding pleasure in the company of Edward’s young wife, a docile, pleasant creature who adored Edward; and therefore they had something in common.

Soon after Beatrice’s wedding had taken place the Duke of Gloucester joined the King in Brittany. Gloucester was an ambitious man who had shown himself to be jealous of Simon de Montfort’s power in the barons’ party and had therefore set himself up in opposition to him.

He had come to the King with a special purpose and he lost little time in making Henry aware of the reason for his visit.

‘My lord,’ he began, ‘what I have to tell you fills me with distress for I know what pain it will cause you. I ask in advance for your forgiveness for bringing this to your notice but I believe it to be something you should know.’

‘Pray tell me without more delay,’ commanded Henry.

‘It is that your son Edward has allied himself with Simon de Montfort.’

‘That is impossible,’ cried Henry.

‘I fear, my lord, it is so.’

‘I will not believe it.’

‘Others will confirm it.’

Henry shook his head. ‘There is some mistake,’ he insisted.

‘No, Sire. The lord Edward is constantly in de Montfort’s company listening to what de Montfort tells about what are, in his opinion, the wrongs committed against the people.’

Henry covered his face with his hands.

This was more cruel than anything. He could endure the loss of his crown but not that of the love and loyalty of his family.

He would listen to no more. He dismissed Gloucester and sat alone.

There must be some mistake. Edward … his son, Eleanor’s son … to stand against him! It was not possible.

Oh God, he thought, is history repeating itself? His grandfather Henry II had likened himself to an eagle who, when he was old and weary, was attacked by the eaglets whom he had fathered. He, Henry III, had gloried in his own children, had thanked God for them and greatly pitied his grandfather. Now could it be that his son had turned against him?

It could not be true. It was a malicious lie. He would never believe it. Eleanor would never allow it. He would trust Edward with his life.

There was only one thing to do and that was to return to England.

How cruel it was. It was true. Edward was seeing de Montfort and had declared that he understood the reason for his grievances.

The King could not bear to see anyone. He went to the Tower of London and remained there. His grief was making him ill.

Richard, the King of the Romans, hearing rumours of England’s trouble, had come to see his brother.

He went to the Tower and when he saw Richard Henry broke down. He wept silently for a few moments and then he said sadly: ‘At least you have come to me, brother.’

‘Henry,’ said Richard, ‘I understand full well your feelings. Have I not a son of my own? I should be desolate if my Henry ever seemed to turn against me. But why don’t you see Edward? I hear you have refused so far.’

‘I could not see him. You know my love for him. If he stood before me now I should not be able to stop myself kissing him.’

‘Which would perhaps be good.’

‘What of the Queen?’

‘The Queen is torn between the two of us. She will hear no ill of Edward.’

‘Henry, Edward is no longer a boy. He is going to be a great King one day … though that will be far distant I hope. He has, it is true, listened to Simon de Montfort and, make no mistake, that man has a certain greatness in him. It is true that the people are in revolt against the immense taxation which has been levied upon them. You must agree to this. I am sure that is all Edward has done and he will be most distressed if you allow him to go on believing you think he is against you. It is the last thing he is. He is loyal to you, but there are certain matters which he wishes to reform. After all de Montfort is our brother-in-law.’

‘Would to God I had never allowed it.’

‘Our sister was determined on it and you would not have been able to stop her.’

‘I only gave way because he had seduced her.’

‘Both he and she have given the lie to that … and it is a matter of which they would have all the evidence. Nay, brother, they are married. You consented to the marriage. Let us forget that. It is not the issue. What I want is an end to this difference between you and your son. See him. Listen to him. He will tell you his feelings in the matter.’

‘It may well be that you are right, Richard, but when I see my son I know all feeling will desert me except the joy it will give me to look on his face.’

‘Then relish that joy … and talk afterwards. I am sure you will see that you have been mistaken.’

‘Oh, Richard, if I could believe that you are right in this.’

‘Give yourself the opportunity of finding out.’

Richard lost no time in sending a message to Edward.

Edward came to the Tower accompanied by his mother. Eleanor had been with her son trying to understand what this matter was which had come between them.

Edward swore that he had no intention of working against his father. He had listened to Simon de Montfort, certainly. There was much wisdom in what he had to say. He firmly believed that his Uncle Simon was the King’s loyal subject and was genuinely concerned at the growing discontent in the country.

He went in alone to see his father and when he saw him he rushed into his arms.

Henry embraced him, kissing him on both cheeks and their tears mingled.

‘My dear, dear father, how could you ever have thought I would be against you?’

‘Forgive me, Edward. Forgive me. I listened to evil tales.’

‘I had seen de Montfort it is true. Father, he is a man of honour. He means you no harm.’

‘He has seduced you with fair words, my son. He and I have had our differences. I do not believe he will be a friend of mine until I do as he says. But no matter, you are here. You have come to me. You have assured me of your love. That is enough for me.’

‘Never believe I would stand against you.’

‘I do not believe it. I never did … in my heart.’

‘It is merely that I felt there was sense in what Simon de Montfort told me. But if he were to be against you then I would bring whatever strength I had to stand against him. Never think, Father, that whatever the cause I would stand against you.’

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