“Well, I doubt that Mercadier or the king would echo those sentiments,” he said wryly. He suspected the Bretons would come to regret it, too, but the duchess was not likely to be interested in his views of the French king. He kissed her hand again, and when he looked up, he saw that she was smiling.
“Thank you, Sir Guy,” she said. “I will remember your kindness.”
“My lady.” Raindrops had begun to splatter about them, and as she disappeared into the keep, he quickened his pace, thinking that what he would remember was her smile.
CHAPTER THIRTY
SEPTEMBER 1196
Rouen, Normandy
Eleanor was pleased to receive her son’s message, asking her to join him at Rouen, for that indicated he was showing common sense in recovering from his wound; she would gladly make that long, tiring journey if it would keep him out of the saddle long enough for his knee to heal. She’d not expected to find Berengaria and Joanna at Rouen, though, for it was painfully obvious by now that Richard rarely sought out his wife for the pleasure of her company. Their surprise presence confirmed her suspicions—that something was in the wind—even if she did not see the role they’d play in whatever grand design Richard had in mind.
She was not kept in suspense for long. After an enjoyable family dinner, Richard said he needed to speak with her in private and, leaving Joanna and Berengaria to preside over the great hall, they withdrew to the solar. Richard still favored his injured leg, but he was no longer using a crutch and, her concerns over his health assuaged, she wasted no time going to the heart of the matter. “What are you up to, Richard?”
He looked amused. “How well you know me, Maman. As it happens, I do have something of consequence to share with you. Do you remember when I said I was contemplating a way to end Philippe’s alliance with the Count of Toulouse?”
She nodded. “You said you were not yet sure if that hawk would fly.”
“I need not have worried, for it soared high enough to see the gates of Heaven. Raimond de St Gilles and I are about to launch a diplomatic revolution. After nigh on forty years of war with Toulouse, we are making peace.”
Eleanor was highly skeptical of that, remembering how her husband had forced Raimond’s father to do homage for Toulouse and how quickly he’d repudiated it. “I suspect that any peace with Toulouse will last about as long as ice in the hot sun. What are the terms?”
“Well, you know that Quercy has been a bone of contention since I regained possession of it some years back. So I have agreed to return it to the count. And I have also agreed to renounce the duchy of Aquitaine’s hereditary claim to Toulouse.”
Her gasp of horror was so audible that he had to fight back a smile. “Richard, have you lost your mind? You would give up so much for so little? What do we get in return?”
“Not much, Maman—merely Toulouse for your grandson . . . or granddaughter, if that be God’s Will.”
He’d rarely seen his mother at a loss for words and leaned back in his seat to savor the moment, watching with a grin as she processed what she’d just been told.
“A marital alliance, Richard?” She, too, was now smiling, a smile that shed years and cares, giving him a glimpse of the young woman she’d once been, back in the days when she’d been acclaimed as one of Christendom’s great beauties and her marriage to his father had been a happy one. “Raimond and Joanna . . . That is brilliant!”
“I thought so, too,” he said complacently. “Alliances are easily broken, but not if they are sanctioned by the Church. The old count was a viper, about as trustworthy as Heinrich. Raimond is neither as treacherous nor as ambitious as his father. And by offering him such generous terms—as well as a beautiful bride—I give him some very convincing reasons to stay loyal.”
The more Eleanor considered the proposal, the more she liked it. Richard would gain a useful ally, further isolate the French king, and resolve her family’s long-standing claim to Toulouse. “This is truly a blessing, Richard, both for us and for Joanna. She ought to have a good life as Raimond’s countess. She’ll like Toulouse for certes, and it will be wonderful not to have to send another daughter off into foreign exile. I do not expect to see your sister Leonora again in this world, but Joanna will be able to visit us whenever she wishes. And she . . .”
She stopped abruptly then, puzzled by the expression on his face. “What is it? Surely Joanna is pleased about the marriage?”
“Well . . . she does not know about it yet.”
“Why not? Do you have any reason to think she’d balk?”
“No. It is just that she can be unpredictable, Maman. And . . . and Berenguela does not think it is a good idea.” Catching her look of surprise, he said, “It made sense to discuss it with her, for she’d seen Joanna and Raimond together, and I made her promise she’d say nothing to Joanna until I do. But as I said, she does not approve.” His mouth turned down. “In truth, I cannot remember the last time she did approve of something I’ve done.”