fine one.
Louis kissed my fingers again, then my cheeks,enveloping me in a cloud of sweet perfume. His lips were gentle on my skin. So he had bathed and anointed himself before coming to me. My pleasure deepened.
‘Forgive me that I did not come sooner,’ Louis explained. ‘I ordered a Mass to be said. I had to give thanks to God for my safe arrival.’
‘You are certainly well protected,’ I observed, with an eye to his guards.
‘My father and Abbot Suger—my father’s chief counsellor who has accompanied me at my father’s orders—both insisted. They must guarantee my safety in dangerous territory.’
It was said completely without guile, despite the covert slur on the state of law in my lands, neither was it the reply I had expected—but, of course, his father would be concerned. ‘Of course.’ I raised my hand to indicate a table with two low chairs set for us in a window embrasure. ‘Here is wine, my lord. Please sit and be at ease.’
We sat. At a signal my servants approached to pour the wine and uncover gold dishes of candied fruits and sugared plums. Louis accepted the cup from my hand.
‘Let us drink to our union.’ I raised mine to my lips. ‘May it be long and fruitful, to the advantage of both France and Aquitaine. As sweet as the sugarplums.’ I gestured to the bowl.
‘It will be my greatest delight.’
Louis took a small sip before pushing the cup aside.He declined the sweetmeats. His gaze was fixed on my face. Again an uneasy silence fell between us.
‘What is it?’ I asked. I did not care to be stared at quite so fixedly.
He shook his head, formally grave. ‘I can’t believe my good fortune. If my brother had lived, he would have wed you. His misfortune is my gain. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. How can I not love you?’
My breath caught on a little laugh of surprise at his lack of worldliness. ‘I am deeply grateful.’ It was impossible to respond in any other fashion to so ingenuous an admission after ten minutes of acquaintance.
Louis was unaware. ‘I have brought gifts for you, lady, to 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
Louis kissed my fingers again, then my cheeks,enveloping me in a cloud of sweet perfume. His lips were gentle on my skin. So he had bathed and anointed himself before coming to me. My pleasure deepened.
‘Forgive me that I did not come sooner,’ Louis explained. ‘I ordered a Mass to be said. I had to give thanks to God for my safe arrival.’
‘You are certainly well protected,’ I observed, with an eye to his guards.
‘My father and Abbot Suger—my father’s chief counsellor who has accompanied me at my father’s orders—both insisted. They must guarantee my safety in dangerous territory.’
It was said completely without guile, despite the covert slur on the state of law in my lands, neither was it the reply I had expected—but, of course, his father would be concerned. ‘Of course.’ I raised my hand to indicate a table with two low chairs set for us in a window embrasure. ‘Here is wine, my lord. Please sit and be at ease.’
We sat. At a signal my servants approached to pour the wine and uncover gold dishes of candied fruits and sugared plums. Louis accepted the cup from my hand.
‘Let us drink to our union.’ I raised mine to my lips. ‘May it be long and fruitful, to the advantage of both France and Aquitaine. As sweet as the sugarplums.’ I gestured to the bowl.
‘It will be my greatest delight.’
Louis took a small sip before pushing the cup aside.He declined the sweetmeats. His gaze was fixed on my face. Again an uneasy silence fell between us.
‘What is it?’ I asked. I did not care to be stared at quite so fixedly.
He shook his head, formally grave. ‘I can’t believe my good fortune. If my brother had lived, he would have wed you. His misfortune is my gain. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. How can I not love you?’
My breath caught on a little laugh of surprise at his lack of worldliness. ‘I am deeply grateful.’ It was impossible to respond in any other fashion to so ingenuous an admission after ten minutes of acquaintance.
Louis was unaware. ‘I have brought gifts for you, lady, to 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
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