express my esteem.’ He motioned forward one of his servants, indicating that he lift the lid of a little gold-bound coffer. ‘My father considered these to be a suitable gift for a young bride.’
His father considered …
If I was disappointed I did not speak it. Neither did I show my initial reaction to the choice of adornment for a new bride. In the coffer coiled a heavy chain of gold. A brooch to pin a mantle. Heavy matching bracelets. Valuable without doubt, set with magnificent cabochon gems, as large as pigeon’s eggs, but heavy, as suitable for a man as for a woman. And somehow northern, without finesse or the delicacy of form that I knew. Chains of gold, I thought, to tie me to the marriage. I promptly buried the thought and expressed my thanks.
‘Rubies are the most prized of jewels,’ Louis informed me ingenuously. ‘They preserve the wearer from the effects of poison.’
Poison? Did he expect me to be poisoned in my own domain? Or in Paris? It was in my mind to ask him. And rubies, for a red-haired woman. How unfortunate. And then not least—why had the Prince not chosen them himself for the woman he would marry?
How could a gift have been so unacceptable on so many levels?
‘I will value them,’ I replied graciously. My upbringing had been superb. ‘I have a gift for you too, my lord.’
I had thought long and hard about it. What to give a man on the occasion of our marriage. Not a sword—far too warlike. A stallion? Perhaps. I had rejected jewels. Then I had decided on something lasting, of beauty, an object of great value that would remind Louis of this moment every time his glance fell on it.
It stood on the table beside the wine flagon, wrapped about in silk. With a twist of my wrist I loosed the shroud to reveal a truly spectacular piece of workmanship from our own treasury in Aquitaine. It was old and very rare, a vase of roc crystal, decorated with gold filigree work, inset with pearls. The crystal shone with inner fire in the sunlight.
Louis touched it with one finger, his face solemn. ‘It is beautiful, but no more beautiful than you, lady.’
And that was it. He neither touched it nor looked at it again. Was it not to his taste? How could such a thing of exquisite workmanship not please? It cried out to be handled, the crystal facets stroked and warmed between palms and fingers. I felt a frown gathering and struggled to smooth it out.
He does not look at it because he cannot take his eyes from your own face! You should be gratified indeed.
True enough.
Louis took my hand again, holding it strongly between his as if he needed to urge me. ‘We’ll wed immediately. I must return home to Paris—as soon as we can settle our affairs.’
Oh! So soon! My days in Aquitaine were fewer than I had supposed. ‘I had hoped to show you the hospitality of Aquitaine, my lord,’ I suggested. ‘We can take our time. Do you not wish to know your new land, your new subjects? What need to hurry so?’
Louis leaned forward so that his face was close to mine, lowering his voice. For one brief moment I thought he was actually going to kiss me, and stiffened at his boldness. No such thing.
‘Are your lords so peaceful and welcoming, then, to a Frankish prince?’ he asked, his breath warm on my cheek. ‘I do not think so. Abbot Suger is wary of staying longer than necessary.’
‘My lords are not hostile,’ I remarked carefully, unsettled by his openness, reluctant to admit to the lukewarm acceptance he would receive. ‘It is just that they don’t know you.’
Louis smiled immediately. ‘Then I’ll speak with them and win them over. I’ll be a fair ruler. I know they’ll accept that.’
Was he quite so innocent? So guileless?
‘They’ll come and swear fealty to you,’ I assured him. ‘They have been summoned.’
And pray God they buried their sour temper and bent the knee or we’d have trouble on our hands. How would this gentle, unassuming man deal with open defiance?
‘Then we’ll await their coming. Two weeks, my lady, but no longer. My father is ill. I am instructed to return by Abbot Suger.’
I chose my reply carefully. Soft acquiescence until I knew him better. ‘Then we will leave in two weeks, my lord, as you wish.’
Louis rose to his feet, drawing me with him with a hand to my arm. ‘There’s no need for concern, lady.’
‘Concern?’
‘I can understand your trepidation at being taken so far from your home. Neither have you your mother to give you advice.’
‘I don’t fear it, sir.’ My voice had more of an edge than I had intended.
‘We’ll make you welcome in Paris. My own lady mother is keen to meet you. I trust you’ll not be lonely there. I wouldn’t want you to be unhappy in any degree.’
My reaction at what I had considered to be a slight to my maturity softened. Here was care for my well-being, where I had not expected it. It wrapped around my heart, a warm hand, that the Prince should even consider my isolation in a foreign land, in an unfamiliar court.
‘I would bring my women with me, sir. My sister.’
‘Of course. It’s my wish that you be comfortable,’
Whatever else this prince was, he was kind, generous. I curtsied deeply. ‘Tonight we hold a feast in your name, my lord.’
He placed his hand on his heart and bowed. ‘It will be my pleasure.’
And then as the Prince departed, surrounded by his bodyguard, I was left to sort through those first impressions. A mixed bag, for sure.
He had great charm, a winning smile. He was good to look at—but Prince Louis was not his own man, his actions, even his choice of gift under the thumb of his father. How … disappointing! I had expected a more forceful personality from a Frank, with their reputation for drawing swords first and asking questions later. Louis had not even worn a sword.
I ate one of the neglected sugarplums, licking the sugar from my fingers, considering the weight of jewellery in the casket.
Could this Louis Capet protect my lands for me? Hard to imagine at first sight. Louis was no war stallion, forsooth! More a gentle palfrey. I suspected that, if it came to a fight, the rebel Count of Angoulême would trample him into the dust of Aquitaine before the Prince had buckled on his weapons.
I sighed.
But perhaps all was not lost. Perhaps there were advantages to be gained here. If the Prince came readily to his father’s hand on the bridle, why should he not come equally readily to mine? Could I not replace Fat Louis’s influence with my own? Surely it was not an impossibility? Since the Prince admired my person and my face so greatly, could he not be persuaded to listen to me and take my advice? I would tutor him in how to deal with my vassals. I would educate him in ruling Aquitaine. I would make myself indispensable to Louis Capet.
I smiled as I ate another plum.
Prince Louis might not be the worst husband in the world.
I
