pampered, secluded confinement, with no duties or responsibilities, denied the chance to mature, denied her womanhood. And Constance suddenly understood why Alys had been so eager to claim a friendship that had existed only in her own imagination, why—despite all evidence to the contrary—she still clung to the romantic belief that she would marry the man to whom she’d been betrothed since the age of nine. Looked upon in that light, it was not even surprising. Who would expect a tame bird to fend for itself if it were set free after a lifetime of gilded captivity?
With this realization, Constance found herself faced with an uncomfortable dilemma. Should she be the one to shatter Alys’s illusions? Constance had little patience with fools, yet there was no cruelty in her nature. To tell Alys the truth was akin to pulling the wings off a butterfly. But someone had to tell her. Surely it would be less painful coming here and now. The alternative would be to hear it from Richard himself, and Constance did not trust him to be tactful as he trampled Alys’s dreams underfoot.
“Alys . . . there is something you must know, and better you hear it from me than from Richard. He has no intention of marrying you.”
Color flamed into Alys’s face and then ebbed, leaving her white and shaken. “That is not true! It was his father who kept delaying our marriage, not Richard.”
“Alys, you need to face the truth. Richard has been king for over six months. If he’d wanted to marry you, it would have happened by now. He has never had any interest in making you his wife, at first because your marriage portion was so meager and then because he no longer trusts your brother, the French king. None of this is your doing but you must—”
“No!” Alys shook her head vehemently, began to back away. “You have not changed at all, Constance, you are still as sharp-tongued and jealous as you always were!”
Constance blinked. “Jealous?”
“Yes, jealous! Joanna and I were raised to be queens, but you had to settle for less and you still resent me for it.”
Constance experienced the righteous resentment of a Good Samaritan not only rebuffed but accused of unworthy motives. She started to defend herself, but Alys had whirled and was halfway up the nave, making her escape in a swirl of silken skirts. Constance made no attempt to call her back. She’d done what she could. It was now up to Alys. She could accept the truth or continue to dwell in her fantasy world. Suddenly Constance felt very tired. Watching Alys retreat, she faced a bitter truth of her own—that she’d rather have been Geoffrey’s duchess than the queen of any kingdom under God’s sky.
CHAPTER 5
MARCH 1190
Nonancourt Castle, Normandy
In order to have a private conversation without fear of eavesdroppers, Eleanor had retreated to her bedchamber with her son. After dismissing her attendants, Richard joked that they ought to plug the keyhole with candle wax to thwart any French spies. Taking the wine cup he was holding out, Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “Is your news as incendiary as that?”
Richard had seated himself by the fire, stretching long legs toward its welcome warmth—for spring came later to Normandy than it did to their beloved Aquitaine—and regarded her enigmatically over the rim of his wine cup. “Let’s just say it is news that Philippe would pay dearly to have, news I do not intend to share with him when we meet at Dreux on Friday.”
“May I hope that you do intend to share it with me . . . eventually?” But Eleanor’s impatience was feigned, for she was accustomed to this sort of teasing. Henry had been a master of suspense, too. It struck her how alike her husband and son were, doubtless one of the main reasons why they’d so often been at odds.
“You know I was in Aquitaine last month. I spent several days in Gascony at La Réole, and during that time I had a very private meeting with trusted agents of the King of Navarre.”
“Did you now?” Eleanor sat back in her chair, a smile playing about the corners of her mouth. They’d talked about this before, the possibility of a marital alliance with the Navarrese king, and were in agreement as to its potential. “I know you’ve raised the matter with Sancho in the past. I take it he is still interested.”
“Why would he not be? We still do have some issues to