The Passionate Enemies

by Jean Plaidy

  Adelicia did not reply. She wondered whether Matilda would take the crown as easily as she planned to.

  ‘Yes,’ went on Matilda, ‘my father put me into your care and do you remember that Christmas when I was kept to your apartments? The King was afraid to let me mingle with the Court for fear of what I should betray.’

  ‘I heard it mentioned.’

  ‘That my first husband was alive, that he was mad, that he had wandered from his bed! And that, Adelicia, was exactly what he did. He rose from our bed and walked out into the night in nothing but a pilgrim’s robe and carrying a staff. He was mad, Adelicia. What they do to us! Does it not rouse your fury? We are married at an early age without our consent. I was twelve years old when I was married to the Emperor. Imagine it, Adelicia. How old were you when you were given to my father?’

  ‘I was eighteen years old.’

  ‘You were fortunate. Although my father must have been a demanding husband. He was an old man when he married you, as my-Emperor Henry was when he married me. That is not such a bad thing, providing these aged husbands die before we are too old and we can choose for ourselves as you have, Adelicia.’

  ‘I am singularly blessed. I have the best husband in the world.’

  ‘A consolation after how many years was it with my father?’

  ‘Fourteen years.’

  ‘A long time and these were the days of your youth but I will tell you this, Adelicia, when I first came here I would have said you had upon you the bloom of a young bride.’

  ‘Mine is a happy marriage.’

  Matilda clenched her fist. ‘Would I had been as fortunate. Was it not enough that I had married that senile old man. Then they had to give me to an arrogant young one.’

  ‘You have three fine sons.’

  ‘Yes, I have three fine sons. They would please me more if I could say they had a father whom I could admire.’

  ‘They are your consolation.’

  ‘Oh, Adelicia, you see good everywhere. Was it not always so. You are the good wife and mother. All that a man could ask of a woman, for do they not want to see us meek and complying, ever ready to bend our will to theirs?’

  ‘I have my own views on many subjects.’

  ‘Ah, but you never force them on others. It amuses me that you have twice sheltered me because you and I are as different as two women could be. Were you in my place you would bow your head and say Stephen is King. It is better for a man to wear the crown. Come, would you not?’

  ‘It is difficult for me to imagine myself in your place.’

  ‘And for me to imagine myself in yours. You have a handsome husband and I hear that he braved a lion’s den for you. He is a fine strong fellow. And you are his meek and adoring wife. Let me tell you this: I would never allow any man to rule me. I will be supreme.’

  ‘Perhaps that is why fate made you an Empress.’

  ‘Oh, as an Empress I had to be careful. A foreigner in a foreign land. I was merely the wife of the Emperor – little more than a child. It is different now. I am the Queen of England in my own right and no one is going to take that right from me.’

  ‘Stephen will contest your claim. You know that.’

  ‘Stephen!’ she cried and her eyes flashed with excitement. ‘Do you think I fear Stephen? I knew him well before you came to England, Adelicia. Then he was my good cousin. My brother was alive – poor William, the heir to the throne. But William died and I was a woman and far away in Germany, so the idea grew in Stephen’s mind that he would be King. I often think that they should have married me to Stephen.’

  ‘If they had, there would not be this conflict.’

  ‘There would always be conflict. Had we married though, it would have been a domestic one instead of a national one.’

  She was smiling to herself, imagining life with Stephen.

  She is obsessed by her own importance, thought Adelicia; but perhaps not entirely so for Stephen plays an unexpected part in her dreams.

  The Queen was disturbed. There was no news which could have affected her so deeply.

  In the quiet of their bedchamber she watched the King closely. She knew that he was more strongly affected than he wished her to know.

  ‘So . . . the Empress has landed in England,’ she said, for she must speak of this matter which affected them so deeply in many ways.

  ‘It had to happen sooner or later.’

  The Queen tried to speak calmly. ‘It is surprising that she should have delayed so long.’

  ‘She dared not come before.’

  ‘Robert of Gloucester is her strongest partisan. That disturbs me.’

  Stephen said: ‘It is to be expected. He is her half-brother.’

  ‘But he swore allegiance to you.’

  ‘I believe he did it that he might serve her the better.’

  The Queen’s calm deserted her. ‘He will grow tired of her arrogance. Her temper is so harsh. She has no gratitude for those who serve her. That is not the way to win adherents.’

  He was silent. He could not explain to her that although he agreed with her he could understand only too well the power of Matilda. He thought of her passionate rages and he wondered why he found them more exhilarating than his wife’s gentle affection. Was Matilda’s scornful passion irresistible? He did not know. She had come here to take his crown. They were enemies. Her coming would plunge the country into civil war and yet he felt an exhilaration which he had not experienced since he had last seen her.

  ‘And she has gone to the Queen Dowager,’ went on the Queen. ‘How dared she do that! Adelicia has been placed in a dangerous position because of this.’

  ‘Adelicia knows that I will understand it was no wish of hers. And what else could she do but receive the Empress when she comes to her as a guest?’

  ‘She could send a message to you and ask your will.’

  ‘She knows full well that I will be aware of her arrival and where she is.’

  ‘Stephen, you are too lenient with everybody.’ She shook her head in tender exasperation. ‘You see too clearly two sides of every question.’

  ‘But, my love, there are two sides to every question.’

  ‘It is not always politic for a King to behave as though there are. For your uncle and your grandfather there was but one side. Their side.’

  ‘Then they were wrong.’

  ‘But they kept the peace and men feared them.’

  ‘Perhaps it is not in my nature to be feared. You should have had a different husband, Matilda.’

  ‘You know I would not change the one I have for any man living.’

  ‘I have one faithful subject at least,’ he said with a smile.

  ‘Faithful,’ she replied seriously, ‘until death. But you must make the Empress your prisoner without delay.’

  ‘I must indeed,’ he said.

  ‘It is to your advantage that Robert had to go to Bristol and leave Matilda unprotected in Arundel. She must never be allowed to join him there. If she did she might well raise an army against you.’

  ‘She shall be made my prisoner.’

  ‘Without delay,’ added the Queen.

  She was aware of the excitement he was feeling, for he could not disguise the glitter of his eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I will go to Arundel.’

  ‘Nay,’ said the Queen. ‘You should not go in person. You should send another to make her your prisoner and you should be sure that she is placed in a stronghold that she cannot harm you again. Remember how your uncle treated his brother Robert of Normandy. Once he had him in captivity there was less bloodshed in Normandy. He allowed the Clito to go free and look what trouble that caused him.’

  ‘You have become a statesman, Matilda.’

  ‘In your cause. So you will send troops to Arundel? You will send one of your most trusted men to take the Empress prisoner. Then we must find a suitable stronghold. It is the only way. She has a son Henry for whom she wants the throne. But don’t let us forget our own Eusta
ce.’

  ‘As if I could ever do that.’

  ‘Nay, nor could you. So you will send to Arundel.’

  ‘I will send to Arundel,’ he said.

  Stephen wanted to be alone to think. He could see her so clearly with her eyes flashing; and he remembered how they had softened for him, how they had blazed into triumph, how she had demanded the consummation of their love.

  Of late when he had grown closer to his Queen he had thought that his relationship with the Empress was one of the past; he would tell himself that memory had magnified it; that he had never really felt that overpowering excitement and the need to satisfy his craving no matter what the consequences.

  But now she was back he remembered.

  How could he ask another to arrest her, to make her his prisoner? She would regard it as an insult. If the King wished to make her his prisoner, the only way he could do so was to take her himself. It would be an insult to send anyone to do that.

  He would ride into Arundel. He would say: ‘You are my prisoner.’ He could imagine her laughing at him, but he would be firm; he would let her know that he, the humble cousin, not even the eldest son of the Count of Blois, was now King of England and she – even she – the proud Empress who believed she had a greater right to the crown of England than he had, must recognize him as such.

  The Queen had said he should not go in person. He knew what was in his wife’s mind. She did not want him to come face to face with the Empress. She was afraid of what might happen if he did. She did not underestimate the powers of her rival, and she was afraid.

  Yet how could he send another to arrest Matilda?

  He would face the truth. He did not want to. He wanted to go himself; he wanted to walk into that castle with that assurance which none but a King could have, and he wanted to make her understand that he was the master.

  He knew that he would never in his life have enjoyed anything so much as facing Matilda and making her understand that she was in the presence of her King. She had always despised him; nor had she ever attempted to hide this. Matilda never hid her feelings; it was part of her arrogant manner of thinking that if people did not like what she did they must needs dislike it. She would change for none. And even in their most passionate moments when they – she no less than he – had confessed their need of each other, she never failed to let him know that she considered herself his superior in every way.

  Proud Matilda, he thought, this is a moment I cannot resist and only you will know how much I savour it.

  It was characteristic of Stephen that even while he had been telling his wife that he would send his deputy to take the Empress prisoner he was planning to perform the act himself.

  He sent for his brother Henry, Bishop of Winchester, and told him that he intended to leave for Arundel where the Empress Matilda was being given shelter by Adelicia and William de Albini.

  ‘You will take her prisoner, of course,’ said Henry.

  ‘Yes, I shall take her prisoner.’

  ‘Robert of Gloucester is having some success in Bristol.’

  ‘I know. But when it is understood that I have the Empress, his supporters will fall away from him.’

  ‘You will certainly be in a strong position if you hold her,’ said Henry. ‘Arundel is not well fortified. You could ask Adelicia to hand her over to you. She could do naught else.’

  ‘I have had communication from her to say that the Empress came to her without invitation and that she had no alternative but to receive her. Considering the proud nature of the Empress I fancy she might refuse to be, as you put it, handed over.’

  ‘She is a woman who must be handled with care,’ said Henry.

  ‘In that I agree. It is for that reason that I must myself go to Arundel.’

  He rode at the head of his troops. The Queen had sadly watched him go. She almost wished she did not understand him so well. There was no sign of that lethargy which since his illness had attacked him from time to time. He was like a young man again.

  Indeed he felt it. It was due to the prospect of finding her there in Arundel Castle, imperiously ordering all those about her to do her will, perhaps watching from a topmost tower for his arrival and smiling to herself as she did so.

  They would come face to face and it would be as it ever was. All the hate they bore each other, all the love, would overflow and mingle and the emotions each aroused in the other would be the most exciting experience either of them had ever known.

  Before the castle his troops encamped. From one of the turret windows Matilda watched. She thought: I am trapped here. He can make me his prisoner if he will and nothing can save me, for this castle is not equipped for a long siege.

  Adelicia was distressed. ‘The King is without,’ she said. ‘He is come in person to take you from here.’

  ‘And will you let me go? Will you abuse the rules of hospitality? Will you pass over your Queen – yes, your true Queen – to a traitor! Have a care, stepmother. You would not wish to see your husband robbed of his estates, named traitor.’

  ‘I beg of you,’ said Adelicia, ‘do not involve me in your quarrel. My husband wishes only to do his duty to his lawful sovereign.’

  ‘Then that is to me.’

  ‘The King would say otherwise.’

  ‘And what say you? What say you?’

  ‘I shall obey my sovereign . . .’

  ‘Your sovereign so-called King or true Queen?’

  ‘Whosoever is my acknowledged sovereign.’

  ‘You play with words. Did my father teach his meek wife to do that?’

  ‘I cannot disobey the King’s orders.’

  ‘Stephen! Bah! He would not make war on women. He is soft and foolish. Tell him I came to you and demanded hospitality and you were obliged to give it. Tell him too, that I would have a word with him.’

  ‘You think he will come into the castle to parley with you?’

  ‘I think he may well do that.’

  ‘He will besiege us. We shall lose our lands.’

  ‘You will lose them when I am in power if you do not obey me.’

  Adelicia went to her husband. He thought they must deliver the Empress’s message to the King. Stephen was reasonable. He would understand that they had not sought to be the Empress’s host and hostess. That dubious honour had been forced on them. The Empress asked for the courtesy of a visit from the King. She hoped, she said, he would not be afraid to grant this.

  He had known that this would happen. He should see her because if he did not she would declare that he was afraid to. He wanted to see her. He wanted to tell her that he was the master now. She was his prisoner. She, who was so proud, so sure that she was right in everything she did, was now completely dependent on his goodwill. He could cast her into a dungeon; he could submit her to any indignity he cared to inflict. Where was her pride and her arrogance now?

  His brother Henry said to him: ‘You will surely not see her?’

  ‘I feel I must.’

  ‘Because she demands it? She is in no position to demand.’

  ‘She is our cousin, Henry.’

  ‘She is your bitterest enemy.’

  ‘I fear her not.’

  ‘Nor should you while she is in your power. But if she were to escape . . .’

  ‘She is in my power. I wish to bring that home to her.’

  ‘So you will see her.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Stephen happily. ‘I shall see her.’

  Triumphantly she awaited his coming. As soon as she saw him her spirits were lifted. What a handsome man he was. The years had not impaired those looks, rather had they intensified them. All the old charm was there. Again that oft repeated sentiment came back to her. Why did they not marry me to Stephen? If they had only had the foresight to have done that the country would not now be facing the threat of civil war. There would have been no need for it.

  It was typical that she should be the first to recover from her emotions and to speak before he did.

 
‘So, it is Stephen, the would-be King.’

  He felt the old excitement rising. It was a hundred times more exciting than going into battle with any other foe.

  ‘It is your sovereign lord, Stephen the King. You should be on your knees in homage and fear for your life.’

  ‘It is you who should do homage and be in fear for yours.’

  ‘Now, Matilda, you joke. You cannot forget that you are my prisoner.’

  ‘So you enter the house of another as a friend and then announce you will plunder it. Is that your interpretation of kingship, Stephen of Blois?’

  ‘Stephen the King comes in expectation of obedience.’

  ‘You always set your expectations too high.’

  ‘Come, Matilda, let us be sensible. You are my good cousin but I am the King and you have come here to dispute my right to the crown, is that not so?’

  ‘Your right to the crown. What is that? What right, pray, have you to my crown?’

  ‘The right of possession.’

  ‘Not for long,’ she cried. ‘Oh, not for long.’

  ‘You are asking me to have you sent to a dungeon.’

  ‘Do you doubt that I should not ere long be rescued and you and I would change places? And know this, Stephen of Blois, aught that you did to me would be done a hundred times more harshly to you.’

  ‘I doubt that not . . . if it ever came to pass.’

  ‘You are too sure of yourself.’

  ‘Nay, you are that.’

  ‘Then perhaps we both are. Perhaps that is why we are so well matched.’ She was inviting friendliness now. He knew that this was the moment to beware. ‘So, Stephen,’ she went on, ‘you are a false friend and lover. You who professed to love me would now be cruel to me.’

  He seized her by the shoulders and drew her towards him. She suppressed her triumph and smiled at him. ‘You have forgotten so soon?’ she asked softly.

  ‘You know that I shall never forget.’

  ‘Those hours we spent together,’ she said, ‘they were precious to us both. There was nothing like them for either of us . . . not for you with your silly Queen who dares to bear my name, nor I with the poor old Emperor and my callow boy husband. Admit it, Stephen.’