"Perhaps one day your son may come to court to serve my little William," the duchess said. She liked this simple man with his honest answers. There was nothing at all complex about Ranulf de Glandeville. He was a refreshing change. She turned the conversation back to the arts.
"Can you sing perhaps, Sir Ranulf?"
"Sing?" He thought it an odd question. Men did not sing. "Nay, my lady, I do not sing."
One of the duchess’s ladies leaned over and whispered in her mistress’s ear. Alienor of Aquitaine smiled mischievously. "The lady Elise wishes to know, if since you do not write or recite poetry, or sing, how you make your wife happy, Sir Ranulf?"
"By making her sing, my lady," Ranulf answered quickly, eliciting a burst of laughter from the duchess and her ladies.
"You are quick of wit by far, my lord," the duchess said, her blue eyes twinkling and her musical voice tinkling with mirth. "There may be hope for you after all."
He bowed. "I am but an honest man." He smiled.
He was included in the royal circle more often than not now, although the great lords considered him of little import. The duchess entrusted him with her younger ladies in the evening, and he chaperoned them, keeping them from the more unruly lords and knights who might compromise the reputations of the naive maidens. He did not flirt as others might have done, for he considered how hurt his innocent Eleanore would be if she knew it. The younger girls in the duchess’s train took to calling him Sir Uncle, which Garrick Taliferro found very amusing.
"What a reputation you are gaining," he teased his friend.
"I should rather be called uncle than have my wife learn one day that I had conducted myself in a lewd and lecherous manner," Ranulf replied. "Eleanore still retains an innocence due to her convent upbringing."
"I believe you love her," Sir Garrick said.
"I do, although I have never said it to her. When I go home, however, I shall. It is past time Eleanore knew it. I have always been fearful that she would reject me, for I am older, and I was forced upon her. Still, before I left I thought perhaps that her manner toward me was softer, that she might have similar feelings for me. I can be silent no longer."
"Of course you must tell her," his friend agreed. "Although I do not understand it, women seem to like to hear the words, Je t'aime."
August passed, and September. In early October the duke mounted an expedition against one of his vassals, Robert de Torigny, a troublesome man who had suddenly refused to render the duke his due. Ranulf was invited to join the siege at the castle of Torigny. He was glad to go, for the gay life of the court and his duties shepherding young ladies was not really to his taste. An invitation to the siege cheered him immensely, and he fought with vigor, earning the respect of those great lords who had previously been dismissive of him. He was quickly considered a good man to have by your side, or at your back.
At the very end of October, word was brought to the duke that King Stephen had died on the twenty-fifth day of October at Dover Castle. King Henry accepted the news calmly, then continued his siege until the castle of Torigny was reduced to rubble, and its lord chastised, humbled. The new king returned home to celebrate his elevation with his joyful mother and his wife, who was great with her second child. Te Deums were sung, Masses of thanksgiving and for the soul of King Stephen were offered in all of Rouen’s churches. Though it had an archbishop, Rouen had not yet a cathedral.
Ranulf was roused from his bed in the stables one night by the king’s page, and without question followed the boy to Henry’s privy chamber, forcing himself awake as they went. The king was a man who needed little sleep, and usually made do with no more than four hours. Ranulf bowed as he was ushered into the royal presence, and the page quickly disappeared. The king sat behind a long table covered in parchment.
"Help yourself to wine if you wish," he said, waving the knight to a chair before the table. "By the rood I have never had so much work! My affairs here in Normandy must be in order before I can cross to England. Besides, I am told between the wind and the rain the damned sea is all a rage right now. I'd go myself, but my wife’s belly makes me more cautious. The queen will now travel with me, de Glandeville. There is no longer a need for secrecy, but you will have the care of Prince William. It is a great responsibility, for who knows that the queen does not carry a daughter this time. It is thought that I mean to leave my son behind in Normandy, for such a journey is considered too dangerous for a boy of tender years. What fools they take me for, my loyal knights! As if I would leave my only heir here to be preyed upon by that pack of wolves! Still, it will be believed the lad stays behind because his household will remain. You must take the prince, and one of his wet nurses, and travel with them to England. You will appear to be a knight with his wife and son. You will leave for Barfleur two days before we do. The details will be worked out in a few days' time."
"Who will know that I escort the prince besides ourselves, my liege?"
"My mother, my wife, and my confessor only," Henry said.
Ranulf nodded.
"Did we awaken you?" the king suddenly asked.
Flushing, Ranulf nodded. He hadn't been aware his sleepiness was that obvious. "Your pardon, my liege."
Henry chuckled. "We need little sleep. We are sure you have heard the complaints. We called you to us now so our meeting would not be noticed and wondered upon. From now on the queen, my mother, or my confessor will speak with you on this matter. When the day comes for your departure, you will be given a purse for expenses."
"What am I to do when we reach England?"
"You will join my progress to London, and it is then that knowledge of Prince William’s presence with us will be made known. We will form an English household for him. There will be plenty of eager souls willing to serve my son," the king said almost grimly. Then he chuckled. "You will have your hands full with Willie, de Glandeville. He is just past two years, and an imp. Don't let the little devil intimidate you, for he already knows his place as a royal prince. Be as tough with him as you would your own son. He must obey you, else he endanger you and himself. Be firm!" the king concluded. "You have our permission to do what must be done to ensure the prince’s safety."
"I will, my liege, for I wish to get home safely to my own wife and child. I swear I will guard the prince as I would my own son’s life, my liege."
"Good!" the king said. "Now, you may go back to bed." He lowered his head again to the papers on his table.
Ranulf bowed himself from the room. The page was gone, and so he found his own way back to the stables. When the king had first told him why he wanted him in Normandy, Ranulf had assumed he would travel in grand style. To learn only he and Pax would be escorting the prince and his nurse was startling. Still, the road from Rouen to Barfleur was not a dangerous road. The child, however, was young. It would almost have been better if he were an infant. Ranulf did not have a great deal of experience with two-year-olds, but as he remembered, they were mobile. He would have to ride with the boy ahead of his saddle. They could not move swiftly. It would not be a simple trip.
Pax was going to have to know. His young squire had proved himself most trustworthy these past months. Still, he would not tell him until he knew when they were going. He made his way to his bed and lay down again. He was going home! Soon he would be with his Eleanore and his son. Simon would be a half year old by the time he returned to Ashlin. He hoped the harvest had gone well, and that the flocks and cattle were safe. Pray God the Welsh had left them in peace. Pray God if they had not, that everyone was safe and the damage slight. With that thought Ranulf de Glandeville finally fell asleep again.