‘I have never had any fancy for the marriage bond.’

‘Nay, you’re a strange man, Becket. You care nothing for women which seems strange to a man like myself who cares very much for them. You know not what you miss. It is a taste which never wearies. It is only that one wishes now and then to change one’s partner in the game.’

‘The Queen would not wish to hear such sentiments expressed.’

‘You are right, Becket. My Queen is a woman of strong opinions. You will have to mind your step with her … as even I do.’

‘The Queen is one who is accustomed to being obeyed.’

‘Indeed you speak the truth. I have managed very well during our life together. I always contrive to see that she is either going to have a child or having one. It is a very good way of curbing her desire to rule.’

‘It is not one which can continue for ever.’

‘As the Queen tells me. She says when this one is born there must be a respite.’

‘It is better for her health that this should be so.’

‘I am expecting a child in another quarter, Becket.’

‘I grieve to hear it, Sire.’

The King burst into loud laughter and slapped Becket on the back.

‘You know full well that a king who cannot get heirs is a curse to the nation.’

‘I know it is well for a king to get legitimate heirs.’

‘My grandfather used to say that it is well for a king to have children - inside and outside wedlock, for those who are of royal blood will be loyal to it.’

‘It is not an infallible recipe for loyalty, sire.’

‘Oh come, Becket, you are determined to reproach me. I won’t have it. Do you hear me?’

‘I hear very well, my lord.’

‘Then take heed for if you offend me I could turn you from your office.’

‘My lord must turn me from it if he will and I shall pray that he finds another to serve him as well as I should.’

‘I never would, Thomas. I know it and for this I will stomach a little of your preaching. But not too much, man. Remember it.’

‘I will remember, my lord.’

‘You have seen my fair Rosamund, Becket. Is she not beautiful? More so in her present state than when I first saw her. It surprises me that my feeling for her does not pall. I love the girl, Becket. You are silent. Why do you stand there with that smug expression on your face? How dare you judge me, Thomas Becket! Are you my keeper?’

‘I am your Chancellor, my lord.’

‘Not for long … if I wish it. Remember that, Becket. And if you are going to tell me that I should give up Rosamund I am going to fall into a temper, and you know my tempers, Thomas.’

‘I know them well, Sire.’

‘They are not pleasant to behold, I believe.’

‘There you speak truth, my lord.’

‘Then it would be well for those around me not to provoke them. I have settled her at Woodstock and I am having a bower built there. A house in the forest … surrounded by a maze of which only I shall know the secret. What think you of that?’

‘That it is a plan worthy of you, my lord.’

The King narrowed his eyes and laughed again.

‘You amuse me, Thomas,’ he said. ‘You stand in judgement. You reproach me. You disapprove of me, but you amuse me. For some reason I have chosen to make you my friend.’

‘I am also your Chancellor, Sire,’ said Becket. ‘Shall we discuss the mission to France?’


For such a mission Thomas could display great magnificence without any feeling of shame. All the scarlet and gold trappings which he so much enjoyed could be brought into play without any feeling of guilt on his part because what he was doing now was for the glory of England. He could not go into France like a pauper. During his journey he must impress all who beheld him with the might and splendour of England.

A troop of soldiers accompanied the procession, besides butlers and stewards and other servants of the household; there were members of the nobility who were to form part of the embassy, and of his own household he took two hundred horsemen. He had brought dogs and birds as well as twelve pack-horses with their grooms, and on the back of each horse sat a long-tailed ape. The procession was followed by wagons which carried Thomas’s clothes and others in which were stored the garments of the rest of the party with gifts which would be judicially distributed at the court of France. And after these were larger wagons one of which was furnished as a chapel for Thomas’s use, and another for his bedchamber. In yet another were utensils for cooking so that the party could stop wherever was deemed desirable.

As this magnificent cavalcade - the like of which had never been seen before - passed through France, people came out of their houses to watch it.

‘What manner of man can the King of England be?’ they asked each other. ‘He must be the richest man in the world since this man, who is only his Chancellor and servant, travels in such state.’

News was brought to Louis that the Chancellor was on his way and that the magnificence of his retinue had startled everyone who had seen it. Determined not to be outdone he gave orders that when the party arrived in Paris no merchant was to sell his goods to any member of the English party. France was to be host to the English and they must have what they would and there should be no question of their paying.

Thomas guessed that this might be the King’s wish and in order not to put himself under any obligation - which might be detrimental to his mission - he sent his servants out secretly to buy any provisions they would need. He did however accept lodgings at the Temple. There he kept a sumptuous table of which all who came to see him were invited to partake.

In the face of such extravagance the French could only retaliate in kind. They must not be made to look less hospitable, less elegant, less generous than the English.

Louis received Thomas with every honour. How could he refuse the hand of his daughter to the son of a king who came to him in such a manner?

He had at first been uneasy. His little daughter Marguerite was but a year old. Poor child, how innocent she was, unaware as yet as to what this mission meant! She would in time go to the English court there to be brought up as the bride of Henry who would, if all went well, become the King of England with little Marguerite that country’s Queen.

Louis still thought of Eleanor and that state of passion to which she had introduced him. He feared he would never forget her and even now he was reminded of how she had left him, and almost immediately her divorce was secured had married Henry Plantagenet whose mistress she had already been.

And now Eleanor’s son by another man, and his daughter by another woman …

It was an unconventional situation but such there would always be with a woman like Eleanor. He wondered whether she often thought of him.

But that was a question he could not ask the King’s Chancellor. He must agree with his ministers that it was an alliance destined to bring good to both countries. It should ensure peace between them and peace was what the people desired more than anything.

The Chancellor in his magnificence had delighted the people of France. Louis made no objections to the proposed match. In fact he welcomed it.

Thomas was well pleased. This important mission had been achieved with the utmost success.


In the miniature palace close to his own at Woodstock the King visited Rosamund Clifford. He was delighted with the dwelling he had built for her. He called it Rosamund’s Bower. It was a fairy house and here she could live secluded while the royal party was in residence at the palace, and he could slip away to be with her with the utmost ease. It had amused him to create a maze of which only he, Rosamund and those who served her, should have the secret. He had not even confided the secret to Thomas. He was not entirely sure of Thomas. He could not understand a man who was not interested in sexual pleasure with women. There were times when he suspected Thomas of indulging in secret what other men talked of openly. He always hoped that one of these days he would catch Thomas. The thought amused him. He often thought what pleasure it would have been for him if he and Thomas could have gone out adventuring together. The fact was there was no man’s company he enjoyed more. Thomas’s love of extravagance was greater than his own for he was a plain man and hated wearing the garments of royalty. In fact he had, at the Easter church ceremonies, laid his crown on the altar and sworn that he would never wear it again.

‘There it stands,’ he had said, ‘as the sovereign’s symbol. That symbol loses nothing because it stands in a place as well guarded as it is on my head. Let no man mistake me. I am the King. But I do not need a crown to make me so. I stand here, your King by right of birth and on the throne I shall remain, but I can serve my country better by making just laws and defending it from all who would subdue it, by the power of my strong arm and the wisdom of my mind and these can work better when not hampered by a crown on my head.’

There he stood, this man who was neither tall nor short, whose hands were chapped with the wind; his tunic short that he might the easier move about, with his unbounded energy, his fierce temper which was terrifying to behold and his complete kingliness. He was right. He did not need a crown to proclaim him King of England. No man could look at him and doubt it.

And yet he came secretly to Woodstock. In his heart he knew it was due to his tenderness for Rosamund. He wanted no harm to befall her. He wanted to keep her the pure and innocent girl she was - the complete contrast to Eleanor. Perhaps he was a little afraid of Eleanor. He would not admit that fear. Yet she could be a scheming woman and he could not be sure what revenge she would take on him.

It was because of Eleanor that he wished to keep his liaison with Rosamund secret.

He found her feeding the swans on the lake before the little palace.

She stood up with a cry of pleasure when she saw him. She was noticeably pregnant and it occurred to him again that she was even more beautiful than when he had first seen her. There was a serenity about her countenance. She had already the motherly look.

He took her hands and kissed them. ‘So my Rose is glad to see her King.’

She nodded as though her emotion at beholding him were so great she could not trust herself to speak.

Ashamed of his own feelings he touched her stomach jocularly. ‘And the boy?’

‘He fares well. But what if it should be a girl? I trust you will not be displeased.’

‘Nay, nay,’ he said, ‘I’ll forgive her if she has one tenth of the charm and beauty of her mother.’

Arms about each other they went into the house.

There he stayed for the night. It was idyllic, there to live like a simple man. He did not delude himself into wishing that he had been born to such a life. He was too enamoured of his kingship, but it was pleasant for a spell to live simply under the adoring eyes of a beloved mistress.

Thomas should see me now, he thought. Perhaps he would try to explain his feelings to Thomas.

No, no. Not even Thomas. No one should know how this beautiful innocent girl affected him.

The child would soon be born and she was to have the best attention.

‘When I return from France I’ll come and see the child,’ he told her.

The thought of his departure to France always upset her. She visualised all kinds of dangers. She begged him to take care.

He laughed at her, but tenderly. How could a king take care?

‘It’s a peaceful mission. I go to see Louis to make terms for the marriage of my son and his daughter. He has already agreed. My good Chancellor got his agreement and I go to seal the alliance and bring the child away with me, for if she is to marry my son she must be brought up in my kingdom.’

‘Poor child! Poor mother!’

‘Ah, Rosamund, be thankful that you are not a royal mother. How much happier you will be with your child in your little bower awaiting the arrival of your lord and master. And I swear to you that he will come to you whenever it is possible for him to do so and this child you carry shall have great honours and never regret, if I can help it, the day the King set eyes on the fairest Rose in all the world.’

He left her content with her lot; her only anxiety what dangers he might face across the sea.

What joy to be with one whose love was selfless, who asked nothing, no honours - except perhaps for their child - nothing for herself! She prayed not for herself but for him and the child.