The Queen from Provence Read Online Free

had done. But how could she?
    The King of France had brothers but Eleanor had no great desire to be the bride of a younger son; if she married one of the King’s brothers – and it seemed very likely that in a year or so this proposition might be considered – she would always be subservient to her sister. Not that Marguerite would ever stress the fact that she was the superior. That was unimportant. She would be.
    A year had passed and Eleanor was getting nearer and nearer to the day when a husband would be found for her and she was restive.
    There was only one King that she knew of who, by marrying her, could give her equal standing with her sister and that was the King of England. He remained unmarried although it seemed unlikely that he would be so for long. He was much older than Marguerite’s husband being twenty-seven years old – and wives were usually found for kings long before they reached that age.
    She determined to find out all she could about the King of England and the most likely member of her father’s Court to supply the information would naturally be Romeo de Villeneuve.
    She made opportunities to talk to him and he was nothing loath. He was very proud of having played a part in arranging Marguerite’s marriage; and she knew that he would like to do equally well for her; so he was a good ally. She had heard him say that the brilliant marriage of the eldest sister would pave the way for the others. There were many who would hesitate to take the daughter of the Count of Provence, but few would not consider marriage with the sister of the Queen of France a good one.
    Eleanor pinned her hopes on Romeo.
    She had learned a great deal about the English King. He had been on the throne nearly twenty years, for his father had died when he was nine years old. England had been occupied by the father of the present King of France who had been invited there because the barons had so loathed Henry’s father King John, that they had thought a foreign ruler would be better than he was. When John died Henry had been hastily crowned with his mother’s throat collar, the crown jewels having recently been lost in the Wash when King John’s army was crossing that stretch of water.
    So he had been King when he was younger than she was. He had had good advisers – always essential, said Romeo with a twinkle in his eye and so calling attention to his own worthiness, which she would be the last to deny. Because of these advisers, the French had gone back to France and Henry continued to reign in peace – entirely due to these strong men whose advice he took.
    ‘What sort of man is the King, Romeo?’ she asked. ‘Is he like the King of France?’
    ‘I doubt anyone is like the King of France, but Henry is a great King and if he is wise could be more powerful than Louis.’
    That made her eyes sparkle. That was what she wanted. Henry to be more powerful than Louis – that was if she married him.
    But what wild dream was this. There had been no emissaries from England asking for her hand. How infuriating that it was the man who must ask for his bride and not the bride for the groom!
    But her questions about England had set Romeo’s mind working. She knew that. And he was thinking, as she was, what an admirable state of affairs would be brought about if while one of the Count of Provence’s daughters was the Queen of France, the other was the Queen of England.
    She was impatient for action. But what could she do? Romeo could not send minstrels to the Court of England to sing of her charms. And she was only twelve years old. If only she had been the eldest.
    She became obsessed by England. She discussed that country with Romeo. She already knew how it had been conquered by William of Normandy and that Henry was a descendant of his. She knew that because of the folly of King John very few possessions were left to the English Crown.
    ‘They will attempt to regain them,’ said Romeo, ‘and the King of France will do all