Read Online The Summer Queen by Elizabeth Chadwick - Free Book Online Page B

pursed her lips against his throat. As long as she could keep him here was the straight answer. ‘Just a little while,’ she coaxed. ‘Until it is cool enough to travel in comfort and the vassals are more settled.’
    He grunted and turned over, drawing away from her and pulling the sheet over his shoulder. ‘I will give the matter some thought,’ he said.
    Alienor did not push further. It had to come as his idea, and would be better digested after a night’s sleep. She could work on him again over the next few days on their way to Saintes. The longer they remained in Aquitaine, the better pleased she would be.
    During the night, Alienor was roused by a rapid banging on the door followed by the click of the latch and the sudden flare of a torch. She jerked to a sitting position, still struggling out of sleep. She cried out in alarm as Raoul de Vermandois clashed back the bed curtains. His gaze flicked over her tumbled hair and naked body with passing appreciation, and then shifted to the far side of the bed where Louis was sitting up and squinting against the blaze of the torch borne by Raoul’s squire.
    ‘What is it?’ Louis demanded blearily.
    ‘Sire, there is grave news from the court.’ Raoul dropped to one knee and bowed his head. ‘Your lord father took a turn for the worse five days ago at Béthizy and, at dusk, gave up his soul to God. You must return to France immediately.’
    Louis stared at him blankly. Alienor pressed her hand to her mouth as she absorbed Raoul’s words and everything expanded in a rush. Dear God, this meant that Louis was King of France and that she was Queen. Her plans to stay in Aquitaine were so much chaff in the wind. They would have to go to Paris now, not just to join the royal household, but to head it as its rulers.
    Louis staggered from the bed to kneel at his altar, head bowed over his clasped hands. ‘Blessed Saint Peter, I beg you to intercede on my father’s behalf so that he may be granted entry into heaven. God have mercy, God have mercy.’ He repeated the words in a continuous litany, rocking back and forth.
    The seneschal eyed him with consternation. ‘Sire?’
    Alienor rallied as she donned her chemise and turned to Raoul. His tunic was inside out and his thick white hair stood up in tufts as if he had come straight from his bed. ‘Has Abbé Suger been informed?’
    A grimace crossed Raoul’s face. ‘I have sent a servant to fetch him. He was dining with the Archbishop and staying with him until the morrow.’
    Swift to pick up nuances, Alienor had noticed the friction between Suger and Raoul de Vermandois during their progress. The men were not at ease with each other, although both would have vigorously denied there was any incompatibility. ‘My lord, we need to dress and compose ourselves.’
    Raoul’s gaze on her sharpened, as if he was reassessing an item that was more interesting than he had first thought. He bowed. ‘I will send in your servants.’
    ‘No,’ she said. ‘I will summon them myself in a moment. My lord husband is overwrought, and it would be imprudent for them to see him like this. It will give you time to sort out your tunic before the good Abbé arrives.’
    ‘My tunic?’ He looked down, and then plucked at the exposed seams. His mouth twisted in a wry smile. ‘I will remedy the situation and see you are not disturbed until you are ready.’ He took his leave, his stride swift and authoritative. Alienor suspected it would give him great satisfaction to deny entry to the Abbot of Saint-Denis, if only for a few minutes.
    Alienor went to kneel at Louis’s side. She knew what it was like to lose a father, but her own prayer to God was swift and practical. The world was waiting outside their bedchamber door and if they did not go out to face it, then it would come to them, and they would be at its mercy.
    ‘Louis?’ She put her arms around him. ‘Louis, I am sorry your father is dead, but let there be prayers and masses said for