at the look of astonishment on his wife’s face. “An odd choice, no? Failed rebels one day, royal agents the next. I thought Richard was going to choke on his outrage, God’s Truth!”
“And did you succeed in this mission?”
“I did, and my father was very pleased, Richard less so. I said ‘I’ and not ‘we,’ for Johnny was more interested in entertaining two Canterbury sisters, not exactly whores but not nuns either, and as alike as two peas in a pod.”
“Are you saying that you are back in your father’s favor, Geoffrey?”
“Well…I am here in Rouen at my father’s behest. He sent me to Normandy to govern it in his name.”
“Geoffrey!” Constance was gazing at him with wide, dazzled eyes. “Then he must truly be thinking of choosing you, not Richard, as his heir!”
“One step at a time,” he cautioned. “I think he is giving serious consideration to naming me as Duke of Normandy. And Richard certainly thinks so, judging by the threats he made to me. Who knows? He may well be the first man who gave up a kingdom in favor of a duchy.”
Constance was deceived neither by his nonchalance nor by his jesting. He might not admit it, but he’d dropped his defenses, for the first time seeing their dream as more than a beguiling chimera, a bewitching illusion shimmering always on the horizon. Now it was taking on shape and substance, might actually be within their grasp.
“If your father has the sense to choose you over Richard,” she declared, “then I am prepared to forgive him for all the wrongs he’s done me and mine.” Geoffrey burst out laughing, and while she did not understand why he found that so humorous, she was glad to share his laughter, glad to embrace his hopes for the glittering future that suddenly seemed within their reach.
Henry and Eleanor celebrated their thirtieth Christmas Court at Windsor. He then moved on to Winchester, leaving Eleanor at Windsor with Tilda, Heinrich, and their children. It was there that the Archdeacon of Lisieux found him, bringing welcome news from Rome. The Pope had brought about a reconciliation between Heinrich and the Emperor Frederick. Delighted, Henry summoned Eleanor and his daughter and son-in-law to Winchester so they could celebrate his success and the end of their exile.
Henry also began to make plans to send John to Ireland and finally gave Richard permission to return to Aquitaine. Without even waiting for the spring thaw, Richard declared war against his brother and launched punitive raids into Brittany. Once more the Angevin empire was riven to its core by internecine hostilities.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
May 1185
Winchester, England
The Countess of Chester was content to watch the festivities from a window-seat, for she was tired and feeling her years on this early May evening. She’d brought her grandson to Winchester to meet her cousin the king, only to learn that Henry had changed his plans because of Richard’s assault upon Geoffrey’s lands in Brittany. He’d hurriedly taken ship at Dover, celebrating his Easter Court at Rouen with the Patriarch of Jerusalem as he pondered how to deal with Richard’s latest defiance. While Maud welcomed the opportunity to visit with Eleanor and Tilda, she was not looking forward to making a Channel crossing in pursuit of Henry.
“I am getting too old for all this to and fro, Randolph,” she said, wryly amused when her grandson took her words at face value and apologized solemnly for taking her away from home and hearth. Noticing that he was glancing wistfully across the hall, where a jongleur was entertaining with some adroit sleight of hand, she relieved him of the duties imposed by blood and courtesy, and watched with a smile as he headed over to get a closer look at the conjuring tricks.
“My lady?” Turning at the sound of a soft voice, Maud found herself gazing up into the face of a young woman, one who looked somewhat familiar. Accepting the wine cup proffered by the girl, Maud recognized her in time to pretend that she’d known the identity of the French princess all along, thanking Alys and inviting her to sit in the window-seat.
“Is that your son Hugh’s boy?”
Maud nodded. “I am taking Randolph to confer with the king about his future. He has been in wardship since Hugh’s death, of course, but he is fifteen now and we need to begin making plans for when he reaches his majority. The earldom of Chester is a great inheritance and a great responsibility. Fortunately, I think the lad will be up to the challenge.” Unlike his father, she thought sadly, may God assoil him.
Alys politely agreed that Randolph seemed quite mature for his age, and they passed the next few minutes in inconsequential conversation as the younger woman nerved herself to reveal the reason she’d sought out the countess. Maud was telling her that the April earthquake had done great damage to Lincoln Cathedral when Alys decided she could wait no longer. “Madame, you are known to speak your mind freely. I am hoping that you’ll not be offended if I, too, speak forthrightly.”
Maud did not like the sound of that. She felt that Alys had legitimate grievances, but she was, above all, a realist, and she knew there was nothing she could do about it. “Speak my mind, do I?” she said. “I’ve never heard my lack of tact described so delicately.”
“I am not asking you to betray any confidences,” Alys said hastily. “It is just that I know so little about what is occurring beyond these walls, only what I happen to overhear. I would be grateful if you could answer a few questions, Lady Maud. For example, I know the Patriarch of Jerusalem came to England to seek the king’s aid for the defense of the Holy Land. Is it true that the king was offered the crown and actually turned it down? And is it true that Lady Matilda’s daughter will not be accompanying her parents when they return to Saxony?”
Those questions seemed innocuous to Maud, and easy enough to answer. “I daresay you know that the King of Jerusalem is cousin to King Henry, and you know, too, that he has been afflicted by leprosy. He is a young man of great courage and ability, but he is also dying and when he does, the crown will pass to his sister’s son, who is a small child. Patriarch Heraclius hoped that King Henry would agree to take the crown himself, believing that no one else could keep Outremer from falling to the infidels. King Henry put the proposal to his great council in London, but they did not want him to accept it.”
“Why ever not?”
“The king asked them if they thought he could still fulfill his coronation oath to safeguard the realm if he were to accept the crown of Jerusalem, and they concluded that he could not,” Maud said blandly, stifling a smile, for given such a broad hint by Henry, they could hardly have answered otherwise. “So the king told the patriarch nay, offering to provide money and soldiers for the defense of the Holy Land. The patriarch was distraught, and asked the king, then, to send his son. John was eager to go, from what I’ve heard, pleading for the chance, but the king would not agree to it. The patriarch was not mollified by the king’s offer of gold and men, chastised him bluntly for failing in his duty as a Christian king. King Henry would not be swayed, though, saying he could not leave his kingdom. And when they met the French king at Vaudreuil, the patriarch had another failure, for your brother Philippe said that he could not take the cross at this time, either.”
Alys seemed distressed. “Can the Holy Land survive without a new Christian quest, though?”
“God Willing,” Maud murmured, wondering what else she could discuss with Alys. Surely personal news would be safe enough? “I am happy to report that your brother’s queen is on the mend after her miscarriage.” She saw at once that this was a mistake, that Alys had known neither that Isabelle was pregnant nor that she’d lost the baby. Did anyone even write to this girl? “I believe you asked about the Duchess of Saxony’s daughter. It is true that Richenza-Matilda, I mean-will remain behind when her parents depart, but that is because she has a crown in her future. The Scots king has asked King Henry for her hand in marriage. They are distant cousins, so must receive a dispensation from His Holiness first, but the king has already sent a delegation to Rome to procure one. So it was for the best that she changed her name, for Richenza would not do at all for the Queen of Scotland!”
So far, so good, she thought. As long as they steered clear of any mention of Richard, the conversation should be smooth sailing. “Did you hear about Lord John? He was very disappointed when the king turned down the crown of Jerusalem on his behalf, and mayhap to make up for that, the king knighted him and put him in command of that long-planned expedition to Ireland. So it seems a crown is in the offing for him, too.”
