The Passionate Enemies by Jean Plaidy Page B

marriage vows to this young girl he should be thinking of a woman as old as himself. If God were watching he might decide that for such impiety he should have a barren marriage.
    Have done with thoughts of other women. Pray that soon his Adelicia should tell him that the signs were evident.
    There was feasting to celebrate the marriage; the King sat at the head of the table, his bride beside him. Roger was on his other side.
    Roger was a little silent and seeking to placate him the King said: ‘I thought we should not get through the ceremony. I swear he nearly fell more than once.’
    â€˜Doddering old idiot,’ grumbled Roger.
    â€˜Still my Archbishop,’ replied the King. He turned to the Queen. ‘Tomorrow, my love, to Westminster and there you shall be crowned, Queen of England in very truth.’
    â€˜I thank you, my lord, said Adelicia warmly.
    The King took her hand and placed it on his thigh.
    â€˜This,’ he said to Roger, ‘is my beloved wife. God has been good to me.’
    â€˜And may he continue to bless you.’
    â€˜He will, I doubt not,’ said the King. ‘Soon you will see the fruit of our nights. My Queen longs for this no less than I. And we pray continually for this fulfilment.’
    â€˜As all your good subjects do. And with such love between you and God’s blessing, ere long you will surely have a healthy boy.’
    â€˜Amen,’ said the King. He added: ‘You shall crown us both at Westminster, Roger. I dearly wish to see the crown on that fair head.’
    Roger smiled his triumph, spirits restored. He had failed to officiate at the King’s marriage but that would be forgotten when at the important ceremony of crowning, he was the one to place the crown on the Queen’s head.
    Ralph lay on his straw exhausted by the day’s activities. At least he had the satisfaction of knowing that he had stopped that upstart from usurping his place.
    He was thinking of the days of his youth – a preoccupation which increased as he grew more aged – and how peaceful those days seemed in comparison with the present day. But then he had been first a humble monk and after that a prior and abbot of the Abbey at Séez. Then he had come to England and finally, because he was a man of cheerful disposition, he had become popular. There had been some who thought he was too ready to laugh, a quality which somehow detractedfrom a man’s piety, but since he had proved himself a man of high moral character, what might have been termed a certain frivolity was forgiven.
    It was only since his seizure when he had found it so difficult to perform his duties and suffered acutely from many handicaps that he began to be irritable. And now as he lay on his bed he thought that he, being so old and infirm, could not have much time left to him and he doubted he would live long enough to see the King’s heir, which was what this marriage was for.
    One of his servants came to him in some haste.
    â€˜My lord Archbishop,’ he said, ‘the royal party have left for Westminster.’
    â€˜So soon,’ cried Ralph.
    â€˜My lord, the Queen is to be crowned without delay and it is said that Roger of Salisbury will perform the ceremony.’
    â€˜Never,’ cried the Archbishop, rising from his bed. ‘There is only one who must do that.’
    â€˜You are unfit, my lord.’
    â€˜Do not advise me on whether or not I shall do my duty. Send my servants with all speed.’
    The blood was pounding in his head, his limbs were shaking, and the room circled round him as it did when he rose too hastily.
    He cared not. He said to his servants: ‘Help me to dress without delay. Have everything ready for our departure. We leave for Westminster at once.’
    Breathlessly the Archbishop entered the Abbey. There was a gasp throughout the spectators as he walked, swaying a little yet clearly resolute, towards the altar.
    Roger had reached