Henry FitzEmpress, she said, looking into those fathomless eyes, I want to be your wife.
And I, my lady, want to be your husband, he replied ardently, kissing her again. I know, for many speak of it, that you have doubts about your marriage, doubts shared even by the saintly Bernard. But what of Louis? Will he let you go?
I will talk to him, Eleanor whispered, nuzzling his ear. This time he must listen.
Youre not going to tell him about us? Henry asked, alarmed.
Of course not, she said. I am not a fool, my heart. Do you think he would relinquish me, knowing I wanted to marry you?
No, I am the fool! My father often says it.
Eleanor giggled and began lightly stroking his hairy thigh.
It makes sense, us marrying, she said. I have long wanted my freedom, but how long would I keep it? I would be beset by fortune hunters. I could not wed just any man. But you would be my powerful protector, and I know without doubt that you would safeguard my inheritance, and help me to rule it well.
Henry looked long and hard at her.
It did occur to me you would think I had pursued you only for your inheritance. I think you know now that there is a little more to it than that. He stretched luxuriously, toying with her nipples. Even if you were dowerless, I would want you for my wife. I mean that, Eleanor. By the eyes of God!
I believe you, she answered teasingly, although I should hope that God has averted His eyes for the moment! Yet it has not escaped my notice that the men, money, and resources that my domains could offer you would be of enormous help in gaining you England!
Henry laughed. So you know about my ambitions in that direction. Of course, it is no secret.
And, Eleanor went on, I am aware too that marrying me would make you the greatest and richest prince in the whole world.
Now, why didnt I think of that? Henry countered. Suddenly, you are infinitely more desirable! He began kissing her, playfully at first, then with a more serious purpose.
Wait, Eleanor said, holding him off. Shall we make a promise to marry?
He became still and regarded her solemnly. We shall. I, Henry FitzEmpress, take thee, Eleanor of Aquitaine, as my future wedded wife.
Eleanor sat up in the bed, her long hair tumbling over her breasts.
And I, Eleanor, do promise myself to thee, Henry, forever and ever, Amen. She beamed at him with such radiance that he caught his breath. Now it is decided. We will make it come about. You can leave Louis to me.
I shall have to. We depart for Anjou tomorrow. You will not fail me, my Eleanor, I know that. Henry took her hand and kissed it. She had intuitively guessed that, plain man as he was, he made such courtly gestures but rarely, and she prized it all the more for that.
I have made up my mind, she declared. Nothing shall stand in our way. But there must be the strictest secrecy. We must give Louis no clue that we intend to wed until the deed is accomplished.
You speak sense, for he would be bound to forbid it, Henry commended her. He distrusts me as it is, for my fiefs encircle his royal demesne on most sides. I could be his greatest enemy. The prospect of my acquiring rich Aquitaine too would give him apoplexy! He paused, frowning. You do realize that our marrying without his permission, as our overlord, could mean war?
I do, Eleanor said calmly. Yet which side would have the greater chance of victory? There would be no contest. The kingdom of France is small and weak compared with the might of Aquitaine, Poitou, and Normandy.
Might is one thing, right another, Henry reminded her. Many will support Louis out of a sense of moral duty. They will argue that we acted with the greatest provocation, not to mention discourtesy.
died, he would be released from that vow, God not having kept His part of the bargain.
Then I can die partly content, Geoffrey croaked, his breath coming now in shallow gasps.
Father, do not die! Henry cried in panic, grasping the sick mans hands and rubbing some warmth into them, then recoiling horrified as they fell limply from his fingers and Geoffreys eyes glazed over. Father! Father! He burst into noisy tears.
The soldiers, heads bowed in grief, for the count had been a good lord to them, knelt by the bed in respect for the passing of a soul; after a moment a dazed Henry knelt with them. It took a moment more before he realized that he was now not only Duke of Normandy, but also Count of Anjou and Maine, and master of a quarter of France.
Later, Henry stood beside his fathers sheeted body, which still lay on the bed on which he had died.
He has paid his debt to Nature, he told his men, and yet I cannot order his burial because I would not swear to disinherit myself.
But it would be a disgrace to leave your fathers body to lie rotting here in this heat, cried the castellan, knowing full well that the ever restless Henry would soon be on his way, leaving him to deal with the problem.
You must bury him, sire, the soldiers urged. You must swear now to what you would not swear before. You cannot leave him to stink the place out.