‘My dearest child,’ he said, ‘it is time we settled your future. You are nearly thirty years of age. If you are going to marry and know the joy of children it must be now.’
‘I know, dear Father,’ she said.
‘My inclination is to keep you with me but often, my love, I shall go into battle. That is inevitable. There is Wales, Scotland and the French are watchful. I should like to see you happy as your sister Joanna is. Children are a great blessing, my child. I have noticed your growing friendship with the Duke of Bar-le-Duc.’
She smiled and when he saw the joy in her face he was immensely relieved.
‘He will happily ask for you,’ he said. ‘He loves you well and I am sure you have some regard for him.’
‘He is a great nobleman.’
‘Royal indeed. He is a good man, a loyal man. That is most important to me. And the strategic position of his lands could be of great importance to me if I were in conflict with the King of France and I know well he has his eyes on Gascony. I would welcome a match between you two … if you were not averse to it.’
‘Dear Father,’ she answered, ‘I have long thought of what I am missing. If I could see you frequently I should be happy to go to Bar.’
Edward embraced her and assured her that ere long there would be a wedding for her.
So it came to pass, for when the Duke of Bar-le-Duc realised that his suit was acceptable he was overjoyed.
Edward was determined that his favourite daughter should not marry a stranger and he invited the Duke to stay in England until the wedding could be arranged, and during the whole of that summer Eleanor and the Duke were constantly in each other’s company. During September the King summoned the whole of his family, the chief knights of the country and every nobleman in the kingdom to Bristol where the ceremony took place.
There were celebrations of great splendour for although, unlike his father and mother, Edward was not extravagant, he did believe that there were occasions when it was necessary to show the people the importance of what was taking place. Moreover this was the wedding of his best-loved daughter and he wanted her memories of England to be pleasant. The bridegroom too must be made aware of the might of the family he had married into, for the King would assuredly need his help at some time.
After that the party travelled to Mortlake to be entertained in the household of Prince Edward. He was now ten years old – tall, good-looking and bearing a strong resemblance to his father. He was inclined to indolence and his attendants and young friends did not always behave with the decorum necessary to his rank, which had given the King some concern, but he believed that this was just youthful high spirits and that Edward would grow more sober as he advanced in years.
The Princess Eleanor was happy. It was true that she must leave England and that was something she had dreaded doing, but now it seemed different; and her husband had promised that whenever possible they would visit England, and the King would always be welcome in Bar.
He would return there now to make preparations for her arrival, for he wanted to make sure that she received a royal welcome and he trusted no one to arrange that but himself.
In a few weeks she would join him.
How excited she was making her preparations. Joanna contrived to spend a great deal of time with her. ‘For,’ said Joanna, ‘when you go away I shall see you rarely then.’
Joanna had given birth to another daughter whom she called Margaret after her sister. So now she had three children. Child-bearing seemed to suit Joanna. Like her mother she came through the ordeals with little inconvenience to herself, and as Gilbert’s devotion did not diminish she was happy in her motherhood.
‘Sister,’ she said one day, ‘I do believe you are with child.’
Eleanor blushed slightly. She had suspected it and the fact that Joanna had noticed confirmed it.
‘It is what I want more than anything,’ she declared.
‘The Duke will be pleased.’
‘Yes, as soon as I am sure I shall send a message to him.’
Joanna laughed. ‘Life is good, is it not, sister? Was I not right in telling you you should marry? Poor Margaret, I doubt she will find it so blissful. It is strange is it not that her Duke allows her to stay away from him? I have heard it said that he prefers it so. Oh, we are the lucky ones, Eleanor.’
Eleanor agreed with this.
She was in fact pregnant, and when her husband heard this he replied that she must leave for Bar without delay. She must make the strenuous journey in the early stages before travelling should be irksome or dangerous. And it was essential that his heir should be born in the Duchy.
A great cavalcade accompanied her to Dover, the King at the head of it.
They took a tender farewell and the King would not leave the shore until he could no longer see the ship which was carrying his daughter away.
In her new home she was welcomed by her husband, who was determined to give her a display to equal that which King Edward had arranged for their pleasure. He had organised a tournament and had invited from all over the Continent, knights renowned for their prowess. Among these was John, the elder Duke of Brabant, the father of Margaret’s husband, who had been known all his life as one of the most accomplished of the knights and had so distinguished himself that he had won the titles of ‘Glory of the World’ and ‘Flower of Chivalry’, which meant that when he jousted people came from every corner of the world to watch him.
‘My dearest,’ said the Duke, ‘you of course must present the crown to the winner of the jousts for they will all perform in your honour.’
She was delighted. She had always been beautiful but seemed to have become more so since her marriage. There was new colour in her cheeks, a new shine to her eyes and a lustre in her hair, which she wore hanging loose about her shoulders.
The old Duke of Brabant was overcome by her beauty and he told her that he was determined to win the crown for the honour of receiving it from her hands.
She wished that Joanna could see her now. Would she be a little envious? Perhaps. But Joanna was in command of her life to such an extent that she rarely envied anyone. There was a niggling disquiet in the recesses of Eleanor’s mind concerning her sister. She had mentioned more than once the possibility of her husband’s dying – and without a great deal of concern – when she would have the husband of her choice.
But she could not think of Joanna on this day. How beautiful it was. The sun was shining, lances glittered and the knights were assembled in their armour ready for the mock battle. She was seated high on her bench with her ladies beside her, under a canopy of scarlet and gold, and all eyes were on her. They marvelled at the beauty of her hair and eyes, her fresh smooth skin. She wished that her father could see her now.
The knights were all eager to win the trophy; there was not one there who was not longing for the honour of having the crown placed on his head by those fair hands.
Yes, she thought, I am happy as I never thought to be. Joanna was right. I needed marriage and children. This is the true life. The crown of England for which she had longed seemed of little importance – a bauble. Here she was: a happy wife, a mother-to-be, the queen of the tournament.
The jousting began and went on throughout the day. The old Duke of Brabant had come successfully through several encounters and she hoped he would win. She wanted this to be his crowning endeavour, for he was clearly too old to joust much more.
She watched him. His opponent was a stranger whom she did not know. But he must be a knight of some repute or he would not be here. He was a tall man and he sat his horse as though he and it were one. Her father was like that. They had the long arms and legs of the Normans, and because of this they had the advantage on horseback.