Rose (23 page)

“It showed, in each man's captivated gaze.” Eleanor walked across the room. “I met with Raymond.”

“Without Fay, as planned?” Mamie sighed. “There is confidence and then there is self-delusion.”

“Raymond and I are family.”

“Still, Fay or I wanted to go with you.”

“I do not need protection from my uncle,” she said, her tone brooking no argument.

Mamie picked up the straw figure of Tyche sitting on the high-topped table next to the window, wishing for luck. “How
did the meeting go? Did he admit to conspiring with the Templars?”

“Conspiring is an ugly word.” Eleanor paused, holding her hand out for the figure. “He said that he, Jocelyn, and Bartholomew are prepared to battle Aleppo first, then Edessa. They have a strategy for defeating Nur ad-Din.”

“And?” Mamie prodded.

“The size of their army is what holds them back. They need more men.”

Mamie bowed her head. “Our army.”

“I have tried talking to Louis, but he shuts me out. He cannot make a final decision without me. It will break us.” Eleanor clenched the straw goddess in her hand.

Mamie did not care for the sound of that. “Then what?”

“Constance sent a messenger to cancel our trip to the market. She is not feeling well. Raymond went to see her, as a conscientious
husband should.”

What an odd choice of words.

“She asked that we gather for breakfast, informally, in the Ivy Room.”

“All of us?”

“Yes. Where is Fay?”

“She went for a walk outside.” Mamie smiled, her heart uneasy. “She felt the need to stretch her legs once she saw a stooped old chaplain talking secretively with a skeletal eunuch.”

“I loathe those men.” Eleanor lifted her head as a thought occurred. “But that means I might find my husband alone.”

Alone meant with a few select guards, but that was not the point. No Odo or Thierry was what mattered to Eleanor.

“Would you like me to bring him a message?”

“No, I will send a page. Perhaps he would visit in the Ivy Room too. I would like to repair the rift between us.”

At least she acknowledged something wrong. That was a good beginning.

“Once you are ready, we can go,” Eleanor said. She put Tyche back on the table.

Mamie nodded and went to her trunk, pulling out a dark-red corded belt and shoes. Her gown was dark rose with deep-ruby sleeves. After attaching a rose-colored veil and a silver circlet,
silver rings, and a bangle, she pronounced, “Done. You?”

“One more thing,” Larissa said. She looped Eleanor's curls around her fingers, settling them in waves down the queen's back, before covering them with a delicate veil of emerald silk.

“Thank you,” Eleanor said, peering into a silver mirror. “Nobody does my curls like you.”

“I am not staying on,” Larissa said. “You may come and visit if you miss me. On my farm. With my husband.”

“Pah!” Eleanor turned, taking stock before they left the chamber. “I've already sent a servant to Louis. Tell Fay where we are?”

“The Ivy Room,” Larissa dutifully said, closing the door behind them.

Once in the hall, Eleanor said, “I have been thinking about
what happened in Daphne, about making a decision that will affect history. It has made me think twice over ordering tea or juice.”

Mamie snickered. “Probably a more important decision than that. Though you would be happy either way.”

“But how do I know?” The queen edged a glance toward her.

Shivering, Mamie said, “You do not. I did not wake up with
any additional answers or clarity. You know I would have said so.”

Eleanor slowed their pace and whispered, “Helping Raymond could change history. I made a wish, in the grove before we left. I wished to make the choice that best served my family.”

Mamie's blood chilled. “What will you say to Louis once you have the chance?”

The queen tapped her lower lip. “I feel as if I should gather
more information first. Form a sound plan of action. Besides, if Louis and Raymond get to know one another a bit better, then perhaps
Raymond can make Louis see his side without my interfering.”

“You do not interfere,” Mamie objected in a harsh whisper. “You advise. It is your right as co-ruler of France, Duchess of Aquitaine.”

“My advice is not always welcome.” Eleanor's mouth tightened.
“There is a special part in all of this for Louis, too, if he will listen to my uncle.” She leaned against Mamie, a hand on Mamie's forearm. “Hush. We will speak of it more later.”

Mamie's nape tingled. What
part
might the king gain to make it worth his while?

They said nothing as they neared the room. Two blue-and-red-liveried servants stood outside the giant twin doors. Urns held ivy, which grew up the sides and over the top, green and lush. The beige marble floors were polished to a shine, and the walls, painted with murals and trimmed with mosaics, added color to the spacious hall.

The servants opened one door, allowing them inside.

Mamie's breath caught as she took in the stunning view. The farthest wall was open and stepped down to a balcony, giving a glimpse of the ocean as well as the Orontes and marketplace below. Colliding smells of grilled meat and sea breezes wafted up toward the palace. Villas clung to the side of the mountain, the people so far away looking as small as ants.

Turquoise sky, green sea, white clouds, and golden sand. “This is breathtaking,” she said, a hand to her heart.

“You see now why this is my favorite room?” Constance stood, a hand to her lower back. “And it is big enough for Bohemond to run around.”

Mamie looked toward a chaise and two upholstered chairs big enough for three people. A young boy, about four, with Raymond's dark hair and Constance's smile, waved as he knocked over a tower of wooden blocks with a carved elephant.

“Good morning,
mon chou
,” Eleanor said. “Aren't you a handsome boy?” Eleanor walked toward Constance, kissing her cheeks in greeting. “You look flushed, Constance.”

“This is the way of it for me.” She patted her flat stomach. “Nausea and aches, but once I start to show, the pain goes away.” She shrugged and turned a look of tenderness toward Bohemond. “It is worth it, as you know. You have a daughter, is that right, Eleanor?”

“
Oui
.” Eleanor dabbed at the corner of an eye. “I miss her, but she was much too young to come on this long pilgrimage. A baby.”

Mamie turned away, flooded with envy. Why were other women blessed with babes, even ones they did not want? Sarah's disgust at what she considered her body's betrayal wore at Mamie, and Sarah knew it. It was the reason for their fighting, the reason Mamie had tried so hard to bury her pain by taking many lovers. The illusion of intimacy helped for a time but did not last long.

Watching Constance dote on Bohemond, caressing his head, moving a toy out of his path as he ran so he would not trip, made the ache inside her bittersweet instead of just bitter.

Though Mamie understood the ways of the court and why Eleanor handed her daughter off to the nurse once she was born, she personally could not have done it. No matter the custom. Other women broke tradition, and she would have done the same. It was different being queen.

“Please,” Constance said, “come sit. I have wine and pomegranate juice. I cannot get enough of the stuff.”

“With me, it was jellied eels.” Eleanor made a face. “I cannot stomach one now.”

Mamie acknowledged a feeling of inadequacy as they told their stories. The princess shared that Lady Hortencia had a daughter, an angel of two years old, who slept in the nursery, though she would be joining them shortly.

Mamie wanted her own story. She wanted to know the feel of her womb quickening, her back aching, her ankles swelling. Women used lavender and wheat germ oil to lighten the marks on their skin, but Mamie would bare those marks with pride.

She was not like other women, it seemed. Her heart longed for what her body could not give.

Eleanor sat next to Constance on the long chaise, so Mamie took one of the big chairs. Soft and welcoming, she determined
to put a happier thought in her mind. Seeing Dominus, perhaps
? But, no, he was still untouchable.

Bohemond ran his elephant over the top of her shoe. The trunk got stuck on a lace, untying it. He looked at her with wide eyes, uncertain what she would do.

“Bo!” Princess Constance chastised.

“It is nothing,” Mamie said. “I put my foot in the way of the elephant stampede. It was my fault it got trampled.”

Bo grinned and crawled into Mamie's lap. “I am Bohemond, Prince of Antioch.”

Charming.
“I am Lady Mamille of Rou.”

He gave her a peck on the cheek, then scrambled down again to his elephant and the ongoing destruction of his block tower.

“He likes you,” Constance said. “Do you have children?”

The innocent question was a stab to her heart, leaving her speechless.

Eleanor intervened. “Mamie has not yet been blessed with children. She's a widow, but her time for apron strings will
come.” She poured a glass of wine for Mamie and one for herself. “You can have the pomegranate juice, Constance,” she declared.
“This wine is delicious. Do you make it here?”

“No, it is one of the wonderful things that comes with being on the trade route. What you are drinking is Egyptian.”

“Egyptian?” Eleanor savored the flavor after another sip. “I had no idea they made wine.”

The heavy sound of the door being opened caught Mamie's attention, and she turned, expecting Fay. It was Lady Hortencia, who came laden with a basket looped over an arm. A servant trailed her with another one. “The baby is awake. At last. Am I late? I have gifts. Since we could not go to the market, I brought some of the market to us. Hello, hello.”

Bohemond gave a shy wave, and Mamie admitted to being smitten with the boy. It would be best to leave Antioch soon. She had loved and left enough children over the years to fill a river with her tears.

“What do you have?” Mamie asked, getting up from the chair.

“Samples of cloth to make a quilt. Many hands make light work, and we can give the quilt to Eleanor as a reminder of her stay here.”

“What a lovely sentiment,” Eleanor answered with true grace, considering how she felt about sewing in general.

“Idle hands.” Hortencia laughed self-consciously. “I must have something to do in addition to what else I am doing or I go a little mad. If you feel like taking a square, go ahead. If not, I will not be offended.”

Mamie liked the woman and appreciated the goodwill behind
the project. “I know how to edge a square.”

“My thanks. I chose the Aquitainian colors of red, white, and gold.”

“Perfect.” Eleanor smiled, keeping her seat on the chaise next to Constance. Neither woman asked to help, but the four ladies and Bohemond soon chatted like fast friends.

Fay entered next, eagerly accepting cloth and thread, sitting on the floor at Eleanor's feet. Bohemond climbed over her, and she tickled him until he giggled.

They discussed fashions, lotions, cosmetics, and finally Eleanor's favorite subject, love. “The ideal can be made real if both parties are open and honest.”

“Honest? A man is as honest when it comes to love as he has to be and no more,” Hortencia quipped.

Fay looked up, her gray eyes sparkling with mischief. “A smart woman might take a few lessons from him and find her own happiness.”

Hortencia's cheeks turned pink. “Well said. And often thought of,” she added with a snicker.

“Love and respect are a woman's due as well as a man's.”

“You have this love with your husband, Louis?” Constance asked, her gaze sharp. Mamie wondered at the tone.

Eleanor lifted her shoulder. “It is different with kings and queens. As you know, Constance, we are wed where it is political, and the heart must follow.”

“I love Raymond,” Constance said, perspiration dotting her forehead. “He is a good husband, a good ruler.”

“Tyche was at your shoulder, since you were a child of ten
when wed,” Fay joked. Mamie appreciated her attempt to lighten
the mood.

“Raymond has always had a head for politics,” Eleanor said. “He was raised in England's court and learned much as a favorite of King Henry.”

“
Oui
, he speaks highly of his time there.” Constance looked up. “Bo, come away from the window,
mon cher
.”

“But I dropped my elephant on the balcony, Maman,” he said.

“I will get it.” Mamie rose, wishing they would talk of something else, like hawking or hunting. Even herb growing would be a safer subject than love and kings.

“Out there.” Bo pointed.

Mamie smiled and took his hand, stepping over the low ledge separating the room from the balcony. The outer wall was not high and could be dangerous if one were to fall over the edge and down the steep mountain.

The elephant lay outside near a small table and a bench.

“Here you are,
mon champion
, one elephant rescued.”

“Thank you, Lady Mamie. Would you like a reward? My papa says a reward is for doing something brave.”

Mamie pretended to think. “Well, I would like a reward, then. How about a kiss?” She gave him her cheek.

He gave her a quick peck, then held her face between his hands. “I would have asked for sweets.”

Mamie smiled. “Next time, I will too.”

“Are you brave?” He peered into her eyes.

“I think so.” This charming child disarmed her.