This was one of those occasions when Louis was the slave of his temper. I was always amazed by these, and sometimes I welcomed them. They did relieve the monotony of my existence with my usually spineless monk.

“I’ll not have it. I’ll not have it,” he cried. “When he comes to Bourges, the gates of the city shall be locked against him.”

I did point out to him that he was playing a dangerous game, that the Church was against him. I watched with interest to see how he would extract himself from this dilemma.

The Pope, like most people, was amazed at the stand Louis was taking. He thought he was under some evil influence—and what influence could that be but mine? He announced publicly that Louis was a child. He must get schooling and be kept from learning bad habits.

When Louis heard this his rage really exploded. He took a solemn oath that Pierre de la Chtre should never enter Bourges, and this of course had the inevitable result. Louis, who had been brought up in the Church, who was devoted to the Church, was now being denounced by the Pope himself, who passed the sentence of excommunication upon him.

Louis was bewildered. He could not believe this was happening to him. There was little which made a king so unpopular as this Edict, for it was not only the king who suffered from it. In every place he visited the churches would be closed and it would be as though the Church did not exist.

It did not please either of us to hear that Pierre de la Chtre, having been denied entry to Bourges, had gone to Champagne, where he had been welcomed by Thibault.

This made it clear that Thibault had ranged himself on the side of de la Chtre against the King.

Louis was deeply distressed. His prayers were intensified; he was nervous. I was constantly in fear that he would commit some weak action which would make the whole world despise him.

Then another matter drove all those from my mind.

I had been so concerned about Louis and this unfortunate trouble over the Archbishop that I had not seen as much of Petronilla as I usually did. Normally she was constantly in my company. We liked to be together and although we did not discuss affairs of state, we shared memories of the past and had always been the best of friends.

I noticed now that she looked a little pale, and there was a secretive expression on her face. A suspicion came into my mind which I immediately dismissed. Of course it could not be!

Something had happened and I decided to tackle her, but I had to wait until we were quite alone; this was a subject entirely between us two.

I made the opportunity and I said: “Petronilla, you had better tell me.”

The color rushed into her face. I began to think: It is so. Oh no! Impossible!

“Come on,” I said firmly. “It would seem that you are keeping me in the dark.”

She said almost defiantly: “I am ... so happy.”

“Well then, let me share that happiness. Are you with child?”

She did not answer. I was dumbfounded for, although the idea had occurred to me, it seemed so incredible that I could not seriously believe it. Petronilla pregnant ... the sister of the Queen in such a condition ... like some serving wench!

“We can be married,” she said.

“I should hope so. Who is this man?”

She was silent for a few seconds. I took her by the shoulders and shook her.

“Tell me,” I cried. “Tell me.”

“It is Raoul of Vermandois.”

I could find no words. I had expected it to be some humble squire ... some msalliance. This was far worse.

At last I said: “But ... he already has a wife.”

“There is going to be a divorce.”

“A divorce? On what grounds?”

“Consanguinity.”

“And who do you think will grant that?”

“Raoul’s brother is the Bishop of Noyon. He can get two other priests to support him.”

“So you have arranged all this?”

“When I became ...”

“Petronilla, you fool! I could have arranged the grandest marriage for you.”

“Raoul is one of the most important men in France.”

“And already a husband.”

“I have told you that can be overcome.”

“And then you will marry. Oh, how could you? How could he?”

“I have always loved him ... from the time I first saw him. Do you remember? He came with Thibault of Champagne before you were married.”

“Thibault of Champagne! Holy Mother of God, Vermandois’s wife is his niece.”

“What of it?”

“What of it? Do you realize that we are on the worst possible terms with Champagne? Do you think he will meekly stand by and let his niece be cast aside?”

“Raoul says it will come out right in the end.”

“He is a philanderer ... so to take advantage of an innocent girl.”

“He didn’t have much chance, poor man. I forced him.”

Petronilla laughed suddenly and I laughed with her. “You are an idiot,” I said.

“I know, but a very happy idiot. I shall have the best man in the world for a husband.”

“Not yet and I would challenge that statement.”

“And I have the dearest sister in the world. None could challenge that, Eleanor. You’ll help, won’t you?”

“I am most displeased.”

“I know. But you do like him, don’t you? You do agree that he is the most fascinating man at Court?”

“At least that is one matter on which you and he will agree. He is conceited and arrogant.”

“And so very attractive. Admit it, Eleanor.”

“I suppose he would appeal to some.”

She looked at me archly. She would have heard those honeyed compliments which had come my way. She knew that I liked the man myself. I could not hide such things from Petronilla.

She cried: “I am so glad that you know. I wanted to tell you before. We always shared things, didn’t we? But Raoul thought you would not approve. He was afraid you would try to prevent us. But now ...”

I said: “I see this has gone so far that there is only one thing for you, and that is marriage. But I do not think it is going to be as easy as you appear to think, sister.”

“But you will help us, won’t you?”

I nodded slowly.

I wanted to be alone to think about him. I was deeply shocked. For so long I had thought that I was the one who mattered to him. I was the one for whom he was singing his songs. The looks had been directed at me, and all the time he and Petronilla were lovers!

It was a great blow to my self-esteem. I began to wonder how sincere any of the men were who cast desirous eyes on me. I wondered what they said to their mistresses in moments of intimacy.

But of course there was nothing to be done than to get Petronilla married as soon as possible. The sister of the Queen of France could not produce a bastard. What a scandal that would be! I could imagine how the Pope, Bernard and Suger would receive such news. To get them married quickly was common sense, and face whatever came of it after that.

I sent for Raoul of Vermandois. He came at once, bowed low and lifted his eyes to my face. They were full of the yearning which I had come to expect from him. That angered me.

I said: “So, Monsieur, you are a monster. My sister has told me of this matter between you and her.”

“I await your pleasure, my lady.”

“I have not yet told the King. He will be even more displeased than I. I am surprised and shocked.”

“My lady, mortal man cannot go on yearning for the impossible forever.”

“So he takes the next best? I think my sister should hear this.”

He smiled at me ruefully. “My great sorrow is that I should cause you concern.”

“Did you think I should not be concerned to find my sister in this condition?”

“I will marry her at once.”

“You have yet to learn that the laws of France allow a man to have only one wife.”

“I no longer have a wife. I hope soon to remedy that when Petronilla honors me.”

“And when will that be?”

“Now. I have the annulment. I am a free man. It was granted to me this very day.”

“Through the good grace of your Bishop brother.”

“Families should always stand together. Do you not agree, my lady?”

“It is fortunate for some that they do. Well then?”

“I shall soon have the inestimable honor of calling you my sister.”

“I wonder how much good that will do you when you have to face the wrath of the Count of Champagne ... not to mention the Pope.”

“I am a man who will face his difficulties when it is necessary to do so and not before.”

“Sometimes that is not a very wise policy.”

“So I have your approval of our marriage, my lady?”

“I can do nothing else but approve when I am faced with such a situation. Please go now.”

He bowed and left me.

I was very angry. What a deceiver he was! To think that I might so easily have given way. It had been in my mind. He was very attractive and would be a skilled lover, I was sure, for practice makes perfect, they say, and he would be a very practiced man.

And Petronilla had been his mistress! Of course, she was beautiful and more feminine than I. There was something helpless about Petronilla and men like Raoul of Vermandois were attracted by that sort of thing. I was more handsome than Petronilla but of a stronger and more forceful nature; I lacked that helpless femininity which I supposed was irresistible. And all the time he was pretending to long for me he was making love with Petronilla!

Moreover she had become pregnant, a state which eluded me although I had been longing for it intensely since my marriage.

This liaison between Petronilla and Vermandois would make trouble, I was sure. I dreaded to think of the action Thibault of Champagne might take. But what in the first hours upset me was the conduct of this man who had aroused such strong emotions in me.

I had anticipated the effect this would have on Louis. He could not believe it, and when I was able to assure him that it was true, he was overcome with shock.

“But it is so ... immoral.”

“All men do not care to spend half the night on their knees,” I told him tartly.

“It would perhaps be better for all concerned if they did,” he retorted.

He was looking at me with the faintest of criticism in his eyes. This is your sister, he was thinking. It is to be expected considering the family from which you come. Your grandfather’s antics were the talk of Europe ... and your father was in perpetual conflict with the Pope.

I came at once to Petronilla’s defense.

“She is in love with Vermandois and he with her. There is such a thing as love in the world, you know ... real love ... not the tepid variety which some have to put up with.”

He was too bemused to take in what I was saying. “With child,” he kept murmuring. “But this is impossible. We cannot have a scandal at Court.”

“It would seem we have that already,” I said. “Louis, listen to me. This is regrettable but it has happened. Petronilla is my sister ... yours now. Raoul of Vermandois is your kinsman. Let us face facts. There is only one thing to do. We have to accept this marriage. After all, Vermandois is divorced from his first wife. These things have happened before. It is of the utmost importance that we stand with them in this. If you give your approval, who can raise his voice against that?”

“I can imagine there are some who will.”

“Louis, you have to remember that you are the King. Your will is law.” I went to him and put my arms about him. “You only have to stand firm, Louis. All must obey you.”

He said: “You are right. There is nothing else we can do.”

When the marriage was announced there was a great deal of gossip throughout the Court. What of Vermandois’s first wife? What was to become of her? Was this a precedent? When a man wanted to be rid of his wife, did it mean that all he had to do was to arrange for a divorce through obliging relatives? Of course, everyone did not have such relatives. Everyone was not related to the King and Queen.

I was astonished by Raoul and Petronilla. They were quite blissful, seeming oblivious of the storm they were raising.

I heard that Raoul’s first wife had taken her children to her uncle Thibault of Champagne, and I knew then that it could not be long before there was real trouble.

I was right.

He did what I expected. He took the case to the Pope. His niece had been cursorily cast out by her husband because he wished to take a younger woman to be his wife. There had been a bogus annulment arranged by a relative of the Count of Vermandois, and two priests had been bribed to assist in this. Moreover the whole dastardly scheme had the approval of the King and Queen, whose sister was the new wife. Thibault begged the Pope to intervene on behalf of his wronged niece.