The Queen From Provence - Plaidy Jean - Страница 61

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‘This is a happy day for me, Edward. I could almost be glad of my wretchedness because it has made me so joyous now.’

‘Let us tell my mother that all is well between us. It has been a most anxious time for her. She came with me. She was so happy that you had sent for me. I will bring her to you.’

So she came and the three of them were together.

‘This must never happen again,’ said Eleanor. ‘Nothing on earth will ever mar our unity. We are as one. Oh please, my son … my husband … remember it.’

There were tears in Henry’s eyes and Edward said: ‘Who was it who brought these tales to you, Father? Methinks he is no friend to you nor to me.’

‘It was Gloucester,’ said Henry.

‘I shall regard him as my enemy until one of us dies,’ declared Edward.

So there was reconciliation and Edward was constantly in the company of his parents until he left for France, for there was to be a great tournament at the French Court and he was anxious to play a part in it.

CONSPIRACY IN THE BEDCHAMBER

Edward was in France; Beatrice had gone; there was frustration over Edmund’s accession to the crown of Sicily which the people of England were so much against; and Henry longed to raise the Queen’s spirits.

He had an idea and without telling Eleanor, for if it failed he did not want disappointment to make her more melancholy than ever, he sent a messenger to Scotland with the suggestion that the Scottish King and Queen should come to England.

He knew that if it were possible Margaret would agree immediately; and he was right. His messenger brought back a letter from Margaret in which she said that they were preparing to set out at once.

Gleefully he went to Eleanor.

‘News from Scotland,’ he said carelessly.

‘Margaret is well?’ she asked quickly.

‘It seems she is very well.’

‘Thank God.’

‘And very eager to see her mother … and I believe she takes some pleasure in her father’s company.’

‘What do you mean, Henry?’

‘I mean, my love, that our Margaret is coming to see us. At this very moment she is on her way.’

‘Oh, Henry!’

‘I knew that would please you. That is why I arranged it.’

‘And said nothing to me.’

‘Because I feared it might not be possible. I could not bear that you should be disappointed.’

‘Henry, you are so good to me.’

‘No more than I should be, my love.’

To go home! Margaret’s spirits leaped at the thought. To leave grim old Edinburgh for beloved Windsor, Westminster or even York. What mattered it as long as it was England. The South was better though because it was farther away from Scotland.

To go home again! To be with those beloved parents. To talk over everything with her mother …

To talk over everything! Oh, what good luck that she had not told anyone, for if she had they would have done everything they could to have stopped her going.

She had almost told Alexander, but she had wanted to be sure. She had not wanted him to be disappointed. Now she was sure and had been on the point of telling but mercy of mercies she had not.

She could imagine those grim old lairds. ‘The bairn must be born in Scotland. In view of her condition the Queen must not travel.’ They would enjoy stopping her pleasure. She knew them well. So thank God, she had told no one.

There was a lot of dour shaking of heads over the proposed visit. They would like to shut her and Alexander up as they had when she had first come here. But they were taught a lesson then. Her dear parents would not allow her to be treated like a prisoner. The Scots knew it and it was important that they did not offend the English.

What joy to turn the head of her horse southwards. How she laughed to herself when they crossed the border. Soon she would be home.

They passed through York where she had half expected her parents would be waiting to greet her. No matter. State affairs kept them in the South. Only a short while and she would be with them.

As they came near to Windsor, Alexander sent messengers ahead of them to herald their approach and so it happened that both the King and Queen with a royal party came to meet them.

What joy there was in the reunion! The Queen must study her daughter, to see if she was plump enough, well enough, happy enough.

Margaret laughed. ‘Dearest lady,’ she cried, ‘how could I fail to be happy when we are together!’

So they rode through the forest to the castle. Oh beautiful, noble castle, beloved of the family because the King had had it refurnished when he had married the Queen.

Into the great chamber they went.

‘Nothing is changed,’ cried Margaret. ‘It is as it always was. Dear Father, how is your grassplat?’ She ran to the window and looked out. There was the grassy rectangle which he had designed and of which he had always been so proud. Margaret turned and threw her arms about him. ‘Oh let everything stay the same.’

Alexander was looking at her in some surprise. She did not care. The Scots rarely showed their feelings, but Alexander knew something of the perfections of her parents and the happy childhood she had spent with them so that nothing that ever happened afterwards could compare with it.

‘Oh, it is so wonderful to be home!’ she cried.

Henry could not hide his delight, even though he felt it must be rather disconcerting for Alexander. But then he must not expect to give Margaret the happiness she had found with her incomparable parents.

Margaret was longing to be alone with her mother so that she could tell the secret. How they would laugh together. But first of course there must be certain formalities. After all she was a Queen and Scotland was by no means unimportant if only because it could cause so much trouble on the border.

There were the usual festivals which Henry so loved to give in honour of his family and which the people so hated to pay for. This was just another instance of the extravagance incurred by the royal family.

Already the people were grumbling.

‘They grudge us a little happiness,’ said the Queen.

‘How wonderful it is to be alone together, dear lady,’ said Margaret.

‘I am so happy that you are here, my dearest.’

‘I have thought of nothing since I left England but the joy I should find in coming back.’

‘Alexander is kind to you?’

‘Yes, he is kind.’

‘A good husband.’

‘I suppose you would say so, but you see I compare him with my dear father and no one could compare with him, could they?’

The Queen agreed that this was so.

‘See what you do,’ said Margaret. ‘You make us all love you so much that we have not much room for anyone else.’

It was not in Eleanor’s nature not to be delighted by such a revelation though she told her daughter that she had prayed that she would find the greatest happiness of her life in her marriage.

‘It will be different, my darling, when you have children.’

‘Dear mother, I have something to tell you.’

Eleanor took her daughter’s face in her hands and looked into her eyes. Margaret nodded, laughter in her eyes and her upturned lips.

‘You have just learned …’

‘I knew before. You are the first I have told.’

‘Margaret! Alexander …’

‘He will know all in good time.’

‘But why this secrecy?’

‘You do not know what they are like up there. I should never have been allowed to travel if they had known I was with child.’

Eleanor began to laugh, but she was quickly serious.

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