“Yes, me. I may wear a bishop’s miter, but I am still a man like all others. Especially when I was young, I had to struggle fiercely in the war against lust.”
“We differ there, then,” Richard said with a laugh. “That is the only war in which I was willing to make an unconditional surrender.”
Hugh smiled again, but he was not distracted from his purpose. “Adultery is a more serious sin than fornication, sire. Each time you betray your marriage vows, you put your immortal soul in peril. Nor is infidelity your only transgression. You do not keep inviolate the privileges of the Church, especially in the matter of the appointment or election of bishops. It is said that you have promoted men out of friendship or because they have paid you for it, and simony is a heinous sin. If it is true, God will not grant you peace.”
Richard studied the other man, feeling what his father had often felt in his dealings with Hugh of Lincoln, resentment at his remarkable candor mingling with admiration for his courage. “I do not deny that I have sold offices, and I do not apologize for it; my need for money is an urgent one, first to defend the Holy Land and now to defend my own domains. But I will concede that the sale of bishoprics is a more serious sin than the sale of sheriffdoms. I will consider what you have said, my lord bishop, and I would ask for your prayers.”
“Gladly, my liege,” Hugh said, bestowing his blessings upon the king before Richard summoned his steward to escort the bishop to his lodgings in the castle. Richard was standing on the dais, watching Hugh depart, his expression bemused. When he was joined by Guillain and Morgan, he saw that they were curious about his private colloquy with the prelate. “The good bishop has been chiding me for my manifold sins. I fear that I shall have to stop.”
They both looked surprised. “Sinning?” Morgan blurted out, sounding so dubious that Richard grinned.
“No, listening to churchmen.” They laughed, and Hugh, by then at the door of the great hall, glanced over his shoulder with another smile, untroubled by their levity. He well knew that it was no easy task to uproot sin in a royal garden, but he was a patient gardener.
ELEANOR REGARDED HER SON pensively, trying to decide if she should broach the subject of his marriage, as Joanna had been urging. He’d just told her he was leaving Chinon for another quick trip to his newly fortified stronghold at Pont de l’Arche, where he was having great success in penning up the French garrison at Vaudreuil Castle, part of the war of attrition he was waging against Philippe, their truce notwithstanding. In mid-March, he was meeting the Duchess of Brittany at Angers in an effort—probably in vain, he conceded—to reconcile her with her husband, the Earl of Chester, for he hoped Randolph might convince Constance to let her son Arthur be raised at his court. After that, he would be holding his Easter Court at Le Mans. Since Le Mans was just fifty miles from Beaufort-en-Vallée, where Berengaria and Joanna were currently residing, that made up Eleanor’s mind.
“Do you intend to celebrate Easter with Berengaria?”
She’d taken him by surprise, as his evasive answer made clear. “I have not given my Easter Court much thought yet, Maman. It is only January, after all.”
“Richard . . . even if she no longer pleases you, you cannot consider ending the marriage. The alliance with Navarre is too valuable to lose.”
“I am well aware of that,” he said, scowling. “Nor has Berenguela done anything to displease me.”
Eleanor rose and sat down beside him in the window-seat. “Then why are you suddenly so loath to spend any time with her, dearest?”
With anyone else, he’d have flared up, using anger to ward off this intrusion into his heart and mind. He could feel heat rising in his face, for he had no answer to her question. He did not understand himself why he was no longer comfortable with his wife, why her very presence reminded him of all he’d lost since leaving the Holy Land. “I am fighting a war,” he said curtly. “Right now I can think only about defending my lands and retaking what the French king seized whilst I was a prisoner. There will be time enough for my wife once our empire is no longer in such danger.”