‘To our sister,’ he blustered. ‘He had seduced her. She could not for that reason have been married to anyone else. I agreed because of the necessity to make an honest woman of her.’

‘The scoundrel!’

‘Ah, you – the seducer of many – are shocked I see.’

‘Our sister is a royal princess.’

‘And that intensifies the crime?’

‘It does indeed. Henry, you will hear more of this. Think not that it is an end of the matter. There is something else. The people will never accept William de Valence as the Bishop of Winchester.’

‘If I bestow the See on him, they will accept it.’

Richard said, ‘You will excuse me, brother.’

And with that he turned and left the apartment.

Henry was uneasy. Richard’s warnings kept ringing in his ears. He despised himself too for the calumny he had uttered about Simon de Montfort. It certainly was not true, but it had seemed a way out, an excuse for acting as he did. It was better than saying: My wife wanted it and I could not refuse her.

Hating himself he began to hate Simon de Montfort. This was a trait of his. He wanted to be good, to do right; but when he was caught he would make excuses for himself no matter how he falsely accused others in doing so; he despised himself and soothed his vanity by hating the people who made him dislike himself.

He tried to forget the unfortunate matter of the See of Winchester, which in spite of his efforts, he feared he might not be able to give to Uncle William, in disliking Simon de Montfort and assuring himself that Simon was in truth the seducer of his sister.

He waited in some trepidation for consequences. They were not long in coming. The barons were loudly expressing their disapproval, and Richard had placed himself at the head of them.

Henry fumed with rage. ‘What is he doing now?’ he demanded. ‘Why does he not go on his pilgrimage?’

The answer was that he had domestic difficulties at this time. His wife was ailing.

‘Much he cares for her,’ sneered Henry. ‘If he stays it is only because he hopes she will die and leave him free to marry elsewhere.’

Then he laughed with pleasure, for he knew that Richard would have liked to marry Henry’s Eleanor. He could not, however, have all his own way.

So while the barons were in revolt against what they called the King’s folly in allowing the marriage of a foreign outsider to his sister and granting too many favours to his wife’s family, Henry doted more and more on his wife, finding great joy in her, and granted her every wish so that the whole world should know how he esteemed her.

THE MAD PRIEST OF WOODSTOCK

The barons were in revolt, and at their head was Richard. They were implying that the King was not giving his people the satisfaction they demanded. If we deposed him we might set his brother Richard on the throne was the theme of their discourse. There was a real danger of this happening, and Eleanor was dismayed.

‘It could never come to that,’ Henry soothed her. ‘You do not know my brother Richard.’

He sent for Simon de Montfort and commanded him to make his peace with Richard.

‘Offer him gifts,’ said Henry. ‘He will not be able to resist taking them. He never could.’

And how right he proved to be, for Richard did allow himself to be persuaded that Simon would be his good friend if only he would stop persecuting him. The marriage had taken place, had been consummated, and nothing could change that now. Was it not in the best interests of all to accept it?

Richard saw this, and characteristically accepted Simon’s explanation, along with his gifts, and declared himself his friend. He then shrugged off the matter of the See of Winchester. Henry would simply not be allowed to give it to William de Valence and there was an end of it.

Henry laughed. Was this not typical of his brother? His enthusiasms had always been short-lived. Richard had ever tired of an enterprise before he had completed it.

The monks would not allow Winchester to pass into Uncle William’s hand. Very well, he would wait. In the meantime he would go to one of his favourite palaces, Woodstock, with his sweet Eleanor. Perhaps there his dearest wish – that he should have a son – would be granted.

Woodstock, this beautiful palace in the heart of Oxfordshire, had always fascinated Henry. It was as though his mighty ancestors had left something of themselves behind in this place, and when he was there a little of their grandeur seemed to fall on him.

The forests surrounding it provided good hunting ground; and there was the deer-fold put there by his great great grandfather Henry I which he had filled with strange beasts from foreign lands. There lived lion, leopard, lynx and what had been a wonder at the time and still was, a porcupine. The deer-fold was protected by a high stone wall to prevent the animals escaping. These animals had given great delight to that wily ancestor of his; and it was comforting to hear that he often indulged in his pleasures, mostly hunting – animals but chiefly women – and in spite of this he had been known as the Lion of Justice because of the good laws he had introduced into the country. Then there was his grandfather Henry II whose name was often mentioned in connection with Woodstock. Here he had kept his mistress Rosamund Clifford, about whom many ballads had been made. Henry liked to consider the troubles in the lives of those men who were always held up as an example for him to follow. His grandfather had kept Rosamund in a bower close to the palace which was approached through a maze of trees. That maze was still here; so was the little dwelling known as Rosamund’s Bower. Henry II was a notorious lecher. His wife, the forceful Eleanor of Aquitaine, had hated him for it. She had discovered the existence of Rosamund in her bower because she had seen attached to the King’s spur the end of a ball of floss silk. She took the ball and holding it loosely she was able to track him through the maze and thus she learned the way to his mistress’s abode. When the King left Woodstock she remained behind and Queen Eleanor having discovered the way through the maze visited Rosamund on whom she was determined to be revenged.

He walked with his own Eleanor through the maze and showed her Rosamund’s Bower. How charming it was, yet full of shadows and if the legend was true what terror the beautiful young woman must have suffered within those walls.

Henry shivered as he put his arm around his wife.

‘Here my grandfather kept his mistress and here his wife discovered her. According to some her revenge was terrible.’

‘She was a very jealous woman doubtless.’

‘Indeed she was. She did not love the King herself but resented any other woman doing so.’

‘It is understandable that a wife should resent her husband’s mistress.’

‘Yes, but to take such a revenge as some said she did! I often wonder how true these stories are. One was that the Queen came to her with a dagger and a bowl of poison. “You may take your choice,” she said.’

‘And which did she choose?’

‘It is not known. Indeed I do not think she was ever presented with such an alternative. There is an even more gruesome story of how the Queen stripped her naked, tied her hands and feet and had her beaten until the blood ran; then two toads were set at her breasts to suck her blood; and when she died the Queen had her thrown into a filthy ditch with the toads. This is completely false I am sure.’

‘Poor Rosamund, she should never have become the King’s mistress.’