What the Duchess Wants

’Twas the root of the whole matter when she considered it.

Her marriage to Louis Capet had been for dynastic reasons and power and had brought together her properties with his, creating a kingdom that was double in size to his lands alone. She’d brought wealth and titles to the match and a body ready to produce heirs. Unfortunately, daughters were all they’d created between them, along with scandal, war and discontent. Meeting up with her vibrant uncle during the crusade to the Holy Land had made her think again of all that she’d given up to live as Louis’s wife and to suffer from the scorn and diatribes of all his counsellors and bishops. Ultimately, it had been her daughters, now under his custody and control, who were the key to her freedom and her annulment.

‘He is filled with a breathless and ruthless enthusiasm for life. Henry could never be controlled by the church or others. His life spent waiting for the crown of England has been spent in honing his skills as a warrior and a king. And I suspect that you will not have to force him into demands of the flesh.’

Only Godfroi could say such things without being impudent, but his words answered her concerns about things of a personal nature. Eleanor was exhausted by the constant demands of Louis’s ministers and his church cronies, and though the worst had passed away, others had not relented in their condemnation of her and anything and everything she did or said. They’d even blamed her for the debacle in the Holy Land!

‘Truly?’ she asked, waiting to see if she could bring the hint of a blush to this imperturbable man. Eleanor realised that there were repercussions to that kind of husband as well. The heat of a blush entered her own cheeks and surprised her. She’d lived a full life and was a mature woman of thirty years and she thought more worldly than a blushing maiden approaching her first marriage bed.

‘Just so, Your Grace,’ Godfroi replied, tipping his head to her.

‘I would meet with him before I agree to this match,’ she said.

‘That could be difficult now. His brother and others so lately seeking your hand as well.’ They’d attempted to kidnap her so that she’d had no other choice was a better description of the matter. Henry’s brother, Geoffrey the Younger, had ambushed her just before she’d reached Blois, then Thibault of that city had chased into her own city of Poitiers. She may no longer be Queen of France, but she would not accept second-born sons much lower than she was in status, name or wealth to husband!

‘Make it so, Godfroi. I have only met the man in the presence of others. I would assess him in privacy and speak with him candidly without others to hear the conversation.’

If Godfroi thought it was a mistake, he did not say. He simply bowed to her and left to make it happen. Such was his way. She knew he would keep her best interests in mind while negotiating this new marriage, just as she did not doubt Henry would impress her as much in a private discussion as he had when he appeared with his father before Louis demanding to be invested as Duke of Normandy. For once in her life, she held the reins in her hands. For once, she would exercise control not afforded to most women in this world.

For once, Eleanor, Duchess of Aquitaine and former Queen of France, would make her own decision.

Henry paced.

When the son of Empress Matilda and her second husband wanted something and it did not come to hand, he paced. Henry had waited and fought for the English crown and it yet remained out of his grasp. Now, he wanted Eleanor and all she brought and she sent her warrior instead.

‘She said what?’ he demanded, not believing the words spoken by the man playing messenger to a seemingly reluctant woman.

‘The queen—’

‘No longer.’

‘The duchess would like to continue the negotiations in person.’

He roared out his anger and frustration, effectively clearing the chamber of all who would take cover from him at times like this. More effective sometimes than a mild request, he used it when needed. Times like this when he did not wish to appear too conciliatory or needy, or when there were issues to discuss that were better done without an audience.