Eleanor caught her breath. She felt an unaccustomed thrill run down her spine when his mouth brushed her hand. What was this? She must be mad! She swallowed hard and gazed above his head at the Great Hall, pretending nothing was amiss.
“Your hospitality is gracious,” Hugh said, standing again. “But, I have not come for pleasantries.” He lowered himself into the chair facing her. “Your attempts to stop the poaching have met with no success,” he accused. “What have you to say for that?”
Eleanor stifled a small gasp. What effrontery! She sat up straight in her chair, gripping the carved arms tightly. “I’m afraid you are hasty in your judgment, Lord Hugh,” she began.
Hugh snorted. “Then where are the poachers?” he asked sarcastically.
Eleanor felt blood rush to her forehead. Indeed, in the flesh he was worse than all the tales about him! “In good faith, my chief forester, Osbert le Fraunceys, is making enquiries again in all the countryside,” she said. “When he or any of his men hear of anything, we shall act on it, immediately.”
Hugh shook his head. “So long as you have your chief forester in charge of this matter, you shall not find the culprits,” he said. “In good faith,” he mocked. “’Tis your fault, milady, that you have too much faith in Osbert. Why else have all these crimes continued? Your trust is misplaced. It is a fault, I am sure, that can be laid at the feet of your gullibility.”
Eleanor felt fury bubbling up in her. “Gullibility? I trust Osbert with my life! I say look to your own chief forester, John de Bretton!” she blurted out.
Hugh’s eyes narrowed. “By the rood, you are impudent!” he snapped. He had to control himself, he warned himself. He could not let this wench have the upper hand. “I lay your unwise challenge at the feet of your youth and inexperience.” He leaned forward, staring directly into Eleanor’s eyes.
Eleanor’s stomach tied in a knot. Thoughts spun wildly through her head. She had to stifle any attraction she felt toward this man, this horrid creature, who was so intent on belittling her.
She lifted her chin. “I lay your unwise words at the feet of your age and battle-weariness!” she retorted. “Now, will you be civil, or must I take my leave of you and meet with you later?”
Hugh shook his head in disbelief. By God’s sweet pain, she was a stubborn one—as stubborn as she was beautiful! “Lady Eleanor,” he said, folding his arms across his chest, “you must calm yourself. Look at the evidence, the facts. Too many poachings have occurred in our two forests. The poachers continue to escape. To be able to evade capture, the criminals must have the aid of foresters. So,” he said, leaning forward again, locking his eyes onto hers, “whose foresters are aiding the poachers? Mine?” He snorted. “I think not, they knowing the harsh penalties I would exact from them.” He paused, letting his words sink in, noting color mounting in Eleanor’s face. “Yours? Quite possibly, Milady, knowing the blind trust you place in them. They do not fear punishment, do they?” he asked.
“Of course!” Eleanor protested. Why was he so rude? Why was he so unbelieving and cynical? “Do you think that my foresters don’t know the penalties for crimes against the Law of the Forest?”
Hugh threw his head back and laughed. “Aye, of course they do,” he mocked. “But why should that worry them, knowing their mistress would not believe them capable of any wrongdoing?”
“You assume too much,” Eleanor protested. How could she answer this man? Wildly, she cast about for something to say that would convince him trust was an asset, not a liability? “Do you trust no one, sire?” she asked.
Hugh smirked. “Nay, Milady. There’s nothing to trust in most people, I fear, and when you reach more years, you will come to the same conclusion.” She was impossibly naïve, he thought in exasperation. How could he ever deal with this ninny?
Eleanor furrowed her brow. He was incredibly mistrustful and suspicious. How could he even bear to get up each morning with such a negative cast of mind? How was she going to extricate Osbert—and herself—from his net of suspicion? How was she going to be able to tolerate Hugh long enough to solve the problem of the poachers, when he dismissed her so contemptuously?
Worse, could she force herself to ignore the fact that just a mere glance into his eyes unsettled her—sending a chill running down her spine—as nothing ever had before?
Chapter Four
“The fire is his contemplation of his sweetheart, who causes him to be consumed by the flames. The nearer a man is to the fire, the more he burns.”
- Le Roman de la Rose, 13th c.
“Lady Eleanor,” Hugh snapped, frowning deeply. “We must immediately find these scoundrels. Tell me what have you heard from Osbert about his ‘investigations,’ and then I will know what course to take next. I cannot have this poaching in my forest—and the King will not have it, either. I will take charge, since you so obviously cannot!”
Eleanor bridled at his mocking tone. She sat up straighter. She would not be treated like an imbecilic child! “Osbert, at my direction, has faithfully,” she emphasized that word purposefully and was pleased to see Hugh’s eyes narrow, “carried out my wishes. He has sent his foresters out in the chase, hiding in copses and dells, to try and catch the criminals unawares, but they haven’t been able to catch anyone. And, he has sent them through
