Hugh leaned back in his chair, expelling a deep breath. “And what were his results, Milady?” he drawled. In truth, she was being taken for a gull by her chief forester! Or, perhaps, there was more there than met the eye here. Was she actually dallying with this churl? He would not be surprised. Women were a faithless lot.
Eleanor forced herself to keep her voice level. “Osbert reported that there was talk of a William being involved in the poaching, so he is sending his men to make further inquiries.” She tried to give Hugh a disdainful look, but his intense blue eyes seemed to bore into her very being, so she looked down and turned her ruby ring back and forth on her finger. She swallowed hard. What was wrong with her?
Hugh fought the impulse to laugh out loud again. “Indeed, Lady Eleanor, and what makes you think he is not giving you the lie?” He rested his chin on his hand and peered at her intently.
Eleanor’s forehead throbbed with the effort of trying to keep her temper in check and to ignore the intensity of his gaze. Forsooth, she could feel her skin tingling, even when she looked away from those blue eyes! Her hands felt clammy, and she rubbed them on her gown. What were these feelings she was having? She could not let him gain any advantage, she reminded herself fiercely, and must keep her emotions in check. After all, Hugh was more than insolent!
“Perhaps, sire, you haven’t had the pleasure of having retainers whom you can trust. Osbert served my father with steadfastness, a trait much prized by my family. Our family motto is Honor et Fides, as you must know. You may think I place my trust lightly,” Eleanor said, firmly. Aghast, she saw that Hugh rolled his eyes at her words. “But, I am more careful than you know about whose loyalty I value.”
“By blood and bones!” Hugh expostulated, exasperated to the point of losing the little patience he had left. How could she be so foolish? “You and I are losing precious game and income in the forest and God knows what else and someone—some knave—is playing us for the fool! Do you think it is worthy to be loyal in such a situation? Hah!” He shook his head. “Honor et Fides?” he scoffed. “Words, those are only words! Methinks I will arrest Osbert and apply some gentle pressure to him to encourage him to speak more freely.”
“Nay!” Eleanor exclaimed, jumping to her feet. From behind her, several knights approached but kept their distance.
“Sister, dear, what is amiss?” Mary called out. Eleanor turned to see her sister, anxiety in her eyes, hurrying through the Great Hall.
Hugh’s eyes widened and then focused on the young girl. Who was this pretty thing? Sister, she had called. Was she Eleanor’s sister? On the Crusade, Hugh vaguely remembered Edgar the braggart speaking of his new sister-in-law, a young, juicy morsel, and he claimed that though he had not bedded her yet, he would most certainly do so when he returned from the Crusade. Although Hugh was far from a stranger to the art of inviting women to his bed, he was repelled by Edgar’s boasting of his plans, as pitiful a figure as Edgar was concerning women. So, this must be the morsel, he thought.
Eleanor took a deep breath and calmed herself. “Mary, dear, don’t worry. This is Hugh of Wykeham, our…ah…” she paused, knowing she dare not say “adversary,” “…neighbor. We are meeting about the poaching in the forest.” Eleanor turned to Hugh. “Hugh, my sister, Mary of Blystoke.”
“Oh,” Mary said, blushing the same rose color as her surcoat. “I beg your pardon. I was only coming to see you when I heard you cry out.”
Eleanor tightened her mouth. “It’s nothing,” she said, turning again to glare at Hugh. “I will deal with it. Go on, now, and we’ll see you at the next meal.” She patted Mary’s shoulder, and Mary curtsied to Hugh and left quickly, her skirts rustling across the stone floor.
Hugh stared after her. This comely wench was young, pretty, and from a good line. She might be a candidate for the next countess of Wykeham—save for the fact that she, no doubt, had the same faulty family trait of trusting others too much. He sighed. William of Litchfield would have to be his advisor in this matter. Perhaps Mary would do for a wife, but most likely she would not. He frowned. Much investigation had to be done before he would marry again, but marry he must, if he were to have an heir.
For now, he had this disaster on his hands with Eleanor. He would quench that small flame of longing that had ignited when he brushed her hand with his lips. It was a mere reaction, he reminded himself, one that he knew well, and it was of little account. Besides, his gut told him that he could not abide Eleanor’s foolishness for long. She was too much the gull—and extremely stubborn to boot, a highly unattractive combination. Not only was Eleanor costing him the game from his forest, but her actions would cast his reputation in a black light, especially now that he had returned to oversee his forest, and the poachers still roamed free. Others were already talking, no doubt, of his inability to manage his own forest lands, talk that could cause serious challenges to his leadership and erode his influence with the king. He would not brook that!
Eleanor sat back down, her back straight and her fists clenched. “Nay, you shall not arrest Osbert. I forbid it.” She saw Hugh’s face darken ominously, and he opened his mouth to speak. She broke in, quickly. “We have much to do before anything like that happens,” she
