“To the marriage of de Courtenay with our beautiful ward,” returned the queen, “there riseth but one objection. From the similarity of her name, she ever fancied herself the heiress of the former King of Leinster, and hath cultivated a taste for decorations befitting royalty. I fear me that Sir Henry, being but the younger branch of his house, will scarce be able to maintain a state suited to her desires.”
“God grant she have not the ambition of Earl Strigul, else might we find it necessary to do battle for our fief of Ireland,” said Edward.
“Nay, from the ambition of Eva, thou hast nought to fear; her heart would incline her rather to bestow benefices upon her friends, than to hoard treasures for herself. Therefore it is that I desire for her worthy alliance and princely dower,” returned the queen.
“Thou hast it in thy power, best one, to obviate thine own objections and to bless the loyal hamlet that protected thy seclusion, by giving them so gracious a mistress.”
Tears of gratitude filled the eyes of the queen, as looking affectionately upon her husband she replied, “How lost were Eleanora to the love of God did she not daily thank Him for making her the wife of one who finds his own happiness in promoting the welfare of his subjects.”
“Not all his subjects regard him with thy partial fondness,” said the king. “Our brother, Alexander of Scotland, has refused to renew the oath of homage, which his ancestor made to Henry II. for his crown, and will attend our coronation only as kingly guest; while the bold Llewellyn refuses to set foot in London.”
“The troublous period through which the realm so lately passed, pleads their best excuse for these unjust suspicions,” suggested the queen. “When the wisdom and magnanimity of my Edward shall become known, they will learn to trust their interest in his hands with the confidence of vassals.”
“Thou would’st fain persuade me,” said Edward, laughing, “that I may love my enemies.”
“I would persuade thee,” said Eleanora, with a smile of confident affection, “to make thine enemies thy friends. Suspicion ever breeds hatred. There be many warm, true hearts in England, at this hour, who, having followed the fortunes of Leicester, for what they deemed the public good, are withheld by fear, from uttering the shout of loyalty.”
“And how would’st thou purpose that I should bind them to their allegiance?” said Edward, curiously.