‘There is the matter of my bride,’ he went on.

‘Subdue Aquitaine,’ said the King, ‘and then it will be time for you to think of marriage.’

‘I would see the Princess Alice. She will be of marriageable age now. My brother Henry tells me that the King of France is asking why the marriage has been so long delayed.’

‘The Princess is touring in the North. If she returns while you are here of a certainty you shall meet. Settle your affairs in Aquitaine and then we shall see whether there shall be a marriage. In the meantime I promise you this: You shall see your mother and it shall be here at Winchester.’

Eleanor laughed aloud when she heard that she was to travel to Winchester. What joy to see her beloved Richard! She would be pleased to see Henry and Geoffrey too, and perhaps young John. Best of all perhaps would be meeting her husband. Already vituperations were forming in her mind. She longed to tell him what she thought of him, to have one of those verbal battles which had always excited her.

She sent for her seamstresses. It was her good fortune that she lacked none of the amenities of life here in Salisbury; if she was a prisoner she was a queenly one. There was little to do in her prison and her attendants made gowns for her and as she had always been noted for her elegance she doubted anything at the King’s court could compare with garments of her designing.

In high spirits she set out on the journey from Salisbury to Winchester surrounded by the King’s guards. She was exultant when she saw the towers of the palace and as she rode forward she laughed aloud in her triumph.

The King received her and for a few moments they regarded each other appraisingly. She tilted her head and laughed.

‘So at last we meet, my lord,’ she said.

The King waved a hand to those who stood in his chamber. ‘Leave us,’ he commanded.

‘Well, we are alone,’ she said. ‘By God, Henry, I see grey hairs and deep lines on your countenance.’

‘I have had much to concern me as you well know.’

‘I know that your sons do not love you.’

‘Their thoughts having been poisoned by their mother.’

She lifted her shoulders. ‘It is their father’s own actions which have turned them from him. Why did you allow me to come here?’

‘That you might see your sons.’

‘So indulgent! Come, Henry, there is a reason other than the love you bear them … or me.’

‘I bear none to you.’

‘I feared it,’ she mocked.

‘But you are the mother of my sons and they have asked to see you.’

‘So we shall meet. I rejoice. And you brought me here to please my subjects of Aquitaine, did you not? If they learn that I am here this Eastertide they will hate you the less and realise that Richard is my friend. That is statecraft, Henry, my husband, and I will say that you are very crafty at it.’

‘Thank you.’

‘And now that Richard is here we have a matter to discuss ...he, I and perhaps you.’

‘And that matter?’

‘His marriage of course.’ She was studying him closely. ‘And where is our dear little Princess? I confess I expected to find her here.’

‘She is gone to the North … for her health.’

The Queen raised her eyebrows. ‘She is sick then? Not sick of love … for Richard? But she has not seen him in the prime of his youth, has she?’

‘She had already departed when he arrived.’

‘Churlish of her! Is she not eager to see her bridegroom?’

‘I should have thought that after your seclusion you would have had other matters to discuss than this betrothal of Richard’s.’

‘I might ask for my freedom. Would you be prepared to give it?’

‘If I did, how should I know that you did not plot against me as you did before?’

‘It is something you could never be sure of.’

‘Then you see why you must remain my prisoner.’

‘I thought we might strike a bargain.’

‘Why should I bargain with a prisoner?’

‘You want a divorce.’

‘Who tells you this?’

‘There are rumours.’

‘You should not trust rumours.’

‘Oh, it depends on the source. And suppose I agree to a divorce, would you release me?’

He said: ‘There is to be no divorce.’

‘I have heard that you have already decided on your next Queen.’

‘Tell me who gave you such news? I’ll cut out their tongues for I’ll not suffer such lies to be told of me.’

‘So ’tis true, is it not?’

‘If it were true that I wanted a divorce why should I not bargain with you as you suggest?’

‘I doubt not you have your reasons.’

‘Nay,’ he said. ‘I have not asked for a divorce.’

‘You presented Cardinal Huguzon with rich gifts. Was this merely to settle the dispute between York and Canterbury?’

‘I did not bring you here to discuss my actions with you.’

‘Nay. I know full well why you did that. You act always out of ambition. It is necessary for Richard to show my people that he is my friend and not yours. So you allow it to be known that he has prevailed upon you to let us meet here. Do not think that I am not aware of your ways, Henry Plantagenet.’

Henry shrugged his shoulders. ‘I would have you know that if you do aught to harm me here you shall be sent back to even more rigorous imprisonment.’

She nodded slowly. ‘What do you plan to do to me, husband? To murder me? That would leave the way clear without complications, would it not? But you must wait of course until Aquitaine is subdued and accepts Richard as the Duke. Then if you can keep him as your vassal – which I doubt – Aquitaine will be yours as you always intended it to be. It is a long time to wait and time is important to you. What do you hope to do? To get an heir by her? You have your heirs, Henry, and look you, what trouble they have brought.’

‘You talk nonsense,’ he said.

‘Nay, nay, good sense and you like it not. What think you the King of France will say when he hears his daughter has been debauched?’

‘What is this?’

‘Such ignorance! Poor child. Scarce out of the cradle. But they say ageing men whose senses are satiated look for new excitements. Children, is it?’

He advanced towards her, his hand upraised.

‘That is it, Henry. Strike me. That will be good hearing for Aquitaine. I will let it be known that I goaded you, taunted you with seducing the daughter of the King of France.’

He paused, fighting to keep control of his rising temper.

‘Get out of here,’ he shouted. ‘Before I kill you with my own hands, get out.’

‘I wonder how I should feel if you laid hands on me. You once did in most tender fashion. Do you remember?’

‘I know only that I curse the day I ever met you.’

‘That was before the Princess of France was conceived. But there was Fair Rosamund, was there not? I shall never forget her terror when her skein of silk led me to her lair. And you were the traitor. It was attached to your spur. But are you not a traitor to us all?’

‘If you do not leave me I shall not answer for my actions.’

He was right. She could see that although he had fought hard for control, his temper was getting the better of him.

He would forget diplomacy. All wisdom would desert him if once that demon rage got the upper hand.

She had no wish to die yet; she gave him a mocking bow and retired.

When his rage had worn itself out he faced the facts.

So she knew. The she-wolf knew that Alice had been his mistress. What would she do? He could be certain that whatever she did would bring him the greatest mischief.

The King of France would hear of it. Richard would know and soon the whole world would be against him. He had had some experience of what condemnation he could expect. He had so recently emerged from the trouble his connection with the murder of Thomas a Becket had given him. And at what cost to his kingly dignity! It must not be known that he had taken Richard’s bride and that she had had a child by him. But Eleanor knew, and Eleanor’s great joy in life was to work against him.