conduct you to the palace I have prepared for you, and there I hope you will be furnished with all you need.’
There were horses for them to ride - for Eleonore a beautiful white palfrey.
‘I somehow knew that this should be yours,’ said Raymond warmly, and he would allow no one but himself to help her into the saddle.
He rode between the King and Queen into Antioch. ‘What a beautiful city!’ cried Eleonore enchanted by the olive groves, the palms, and the people who shouted greetings and waved leaves as they passed.
From time to time Raymond glanced at her. His niece was not only spirited but beautiful. A worthy heiress of Aquitaine. The most interesting phase of this development would be his growing acquaintance with his niece, and the possibility, perhaps through her, of bringing to fruition plans which had long been in his mind.
‘If the palace I have had made ready is not to your liking,’ he told Eleonore, ‘you must tell me. Another shall be made ready for you.’
‘How good you are!’
He leaned towards her. ‘Are we not bound by kinship? And were we not I would wish to do everything in my power for you.’
His eyes glowed in a manner which was something more than avuncular. Eleonore was delighted by such conversation, it was the essence of that romance of which she sang. If he were attracted by her, so was she by him. Never before had Louis seemed so insignificant. As she rode into Antioch she asked herself how different her life would have been if the King of France had had the bearing, the manners and the vitality of the Prince of Antioch.
Into the courtyard of the palace they rode. There bloomed brilliant flowers and the spring sunshine glinted on the waters of the fountains and the feathery leaves of the cypress trees. From the balconies of her apartments Eleonore could look out on the olive groves and vineyards of the fertile land, and she was enchanted by it.
How Raymond understood her. He had heard of the loss of her baggage and sent to her beautiful cloths that she might choose from them, and with these came seamstresses that they might immediately provide her with the garments she needed. He gave her presents of costly jewels.
Eleonore exulted for she realised that Raymond was wooing her far more insistently than he was her husband.
There were entertainments for her pleasure. After a banquet Raymond would beg her to sing for him, and she sang some of her songs of love while he watched her with glowing eyes.
Raymond’s wife Constance, through whom he had inherited Antioch, was less pleased with the visitors. She was well aware of the disturbing presence of the Queen of France, and she rejoiced in the Queen’s close relationship to Raymond for a man could hardly make his niece his mistress. Raymond was the most handsome and charming man Constance had ever known and she was proud to be his wife, but she did realise that her opinions were shared by many and this of course meant that temptation was constantly offered to her attractive husband.
She preferred not to know of his infidelities. She was his wife. He could not put away the granddaughter of great Bohemund. She was safe enough. But she would be pleased when the French party left to get on with their crusade.
Eleonore had no wish to leave. Crusading had turned out to be not quite the joyous adventure she had dreamed of. There was more to it than riding at the head of her ladies, beguiling the crusaders with her songs and enchanting them with her presence. The recent debacle had taught her that. It had been utter misery in the boats which had brought them here, and when she thought of her baggage being rifled by those infidels, she grew so angry that in her rage, her ladies feared she might do herself some injury.
All that was behind her. Here she was in Antioch with the most adorable of hosts and between them a very exciting relationship was springing up.
‘You must completely recover from your ordeals before you think of
There were horses for them to ride - for Eleonore a beautiful white palfrey.
‘I somehow knew that this should be yours,’ said Raymond warmly, and he would allow no one but himself to help her into the saddle.
He rode between the King and Queen into Antioch. ‘What a beautiful city!’ cried Eleonore enchanted by the olive groves, the palms, and the people who shouted greetings and waved leaves as they passed.
From time to time Raymond glanced at her. His niece was not only spirited but beautiful. A worthy heiress of Aquitaine. The most interesting phase of this development would be his growing acquaintance with his niece, and the possibility, perhaps through her, of bringing to fruition plans which had long been in his mind.
‘If the palace I have had made ready is not to your liking,’ he told Eleonore, ‘you must tell me. Another shall be made ready for you.’
‘How good you are!’
He leaned towards her. ‘Are we not bound by kinship? And were we not I would wish to do everything in my power for you.’
His eyes glowed in a manner which was something more than avuncular. Eleonore was delighted by such conversation, it was the essence of that romance of which she sang. If he were attracted by her, so was she by him. Never before had Louis seemed so insignificant. As she rode into Antioch she asked herself how different her life would have been if the King of France had had the bearing, the manners and the vitality of the Prince of Antioch.
Into the courtyard of the palace they rode. There bloomed brilliant flowers and the spring sunshine glinted on the waters of the fountains and the feathery leaves of the cypress trees. From the balconies of her apartments Eleonore could look out on the olive groves and vineyards of the fertile land, and she was enchanted by it.
How Raymond understood her. He had heard of the loss of her baggage and sent to her beautiful cloths that she might choose from them, and with these came seamstresses that they might immediately provide her with the garments she needed. He gave her presents of costly jewels.
Eleonore exulted for she realised that Raymond was wooing her far more insistently than he was her husband.
There were entertainments for her pleasure. After a banquet Raymond would beg her to sing for him, and she sang some of her songs of love while he watched her with glowing eyes.
Raymond’s wife Constance, through whom he had inherited Antioch, was less pleased with the visitors. She was well aware of the disturbing presence of the Queen of France, and she rejoiced in the Queen’s close relationship to Raymond for a man could hardly make his niece his mistress. Raymond was the most handsome and charming man Constance had ever known and she was proud to be his wife, but she did realise that her opinions were shared by many and this of course meant that temptation was constantly offered to her attractive husband.
She preferred not to know of his infidelities. She was his wife. He could not put away the granddaughter of great Bohemund. She was safe enough. But she would be pleased when the French party left to get on with their crusade.
Eleonore had no wish to leave. Crusading had turned out to be not quite the joyous adventure she had dreamed of. There was more to it than riding at the head of her ladies, beguiling the crusaders with her songs and enchanting them with her presence. The recent debacle had taught her that. It had been utter misery in the boats which had brought them here, and when she thought of her baggage being rifled by those infidels, she grew so angry that in her rage, her ladies feared she might do herself some injury.
All that was behind her. Here she was in Antioch with the most adorable of hosts and between them a very exciting relationship was springing up.
‘You must completely recover from your ordeals before you think of
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