Queen Of Four Kingdoms, The by HRH Princess Michael of Kent Page B

a jolly chase, and then, chop! Just like I am going to do to you now . . .’ and he chases her around their bedroom with a small glass of something which, when he catches her, she finds is delicious and made from plums.
    ‘Is this what you give your geese?’ she asks, amazed, already feeling the effects of the strong spirit.
    ‘Yes, it is made by our local monks. Do you like it? They make wonderful spirits from the fruits I send to Anjou from our orchards in Provence.’
    Louis d’Anjou is known as a most hospitable duke and the chateau of Angers is constantly full of guests, as Yolande learns from her excellent major-domo Vincenzo, whom she watches carefully.
Yes, I think he might just make a useful informer within my household – like my mother’s in Saragossa
. . . Once their guests have retired after dinner and entertainments, she and Louis sit alone in the cosy sitting room between their bedrooms, comparing notes about the guests with just the dogs for company. This is their time, when they learn about one another, their cultures and childhoods.
    ‘You know,’ she tells Louis, ‘my father so loved music at his court, he would send his agents to entice the best musicians and poets from the courts of Europe to come to Aragon. What music we had, and how we would dance!’ And she shows him how they would twirl in their particular Spanish way, stamping her feet, clicking her fingers and moving her skirts to one side like a toreador baiting a bull.
    Louis is entranced. ‘Darling, do that again! Will you teach me?’
    She laughs. ‘No, that is how the ladies dance; for the men it’s like this’ – and she makes herself very straight and stamps her feet, which frightens the dogs and makes Louis roll on the bed holding his sides.
    ‘My mother knew of your French troubadours from Champagne, Picardy and Artois, and begged Papa to send for them as well. They taught us to play their instruments – I could play for you if you asked me very nicely?’ Only when he begs her does Yolande agree to play the guitar – which she does rather well. Sometimes when she sings, Hector and Ajax accompany her as she taught them, by howling, their long noses in the air, and the three of them make a terrible noise until she and Louis fall off their cushions, laughing like children.
    ‘Imagine, my mother sent our Catalan musicians to Flanders and even here to France to learn new songs, and they would return with their own special blend of exquisite sounds. As children we were allowed to join in and sing with them.’
    ‘And I can see how well your musicians taught your dogs to make their own special blend of exquisite sounds!’ says Louis, highly amused.
    At other times he sits spellbound as Yolande tells him about Barcelona’s fame as one of the most cultivated royal courts of Europe. ‘My mother used to tell us of her upbringing at the fabled court of Burgundy, and how it influenced our own at Saragossa. Can we visit your uncle Philippe in Burgundy one day?’
    Louis nods. ‘We will, I hope. However important our court at Anjou is, I know it is not as full of culture as my uncles’ courts at Berry and Burgundy. My father was always much more interested in his distant kingdom of Naples and Sicily, but his younger brothers filled their courts with the greatest treasures they could find, and live with a sophistication unequalled in Christendom.’
    It is during one of their fireside evenings together that Yolande gathers the courage to ask Louis the question she has been pondering ever since receiving his letter telling her he was coming home from Naples to marry her. She has often wondered whether he would have come if he had not lost his precious kingdom. Or would she have sat spinning and embroidering for years before he sent for her? What if his answer is not to her liking? She has tried so often, but finally she feels the moment is right to ask.
    ‘Tell me my darling . . .’ she begins with trepidation, then