Hugh flexed his fingers, and rose to his feet. Fury bubbled up in him and he put his hand on his sword. “I see we have much to discuss further, Lady Eleanor,” he said icily. “I suggest you consider your next move carefully. You aren’t able to deal with this objectively at the moment. We shall speak during the meal, I hope, to greater advantage.” He bowed, the slightest indication of contempt in his sweeping movement, and left the Great Hall.
Eleanor clutched the arms of the chair. Thoughts spun through her mind. Hugh had moved her in too many ways—anger, fear, and…what was that other emotion? What was that feeling that gripped her when she first saw him in the chase midmorning? And then again when his lips had touched her hand? Eleanor had had little traffic with love, and to hear her ladies speak of it, giggling and whispering, brought high color to her cheeks. Listening to some of the troubadours’ songs often made her uncomfortable, whereas her ladies, especially Anne, would giggle and poke each other, whispering behind their cupped hands of the delights of love. A sudden, vivid image of her and Hugh, embracing, his mouth seeking hers, shook her. She caught her lower lip in consternation and confusion. Where were these feelings coming from?
Hugh fumed as he strode from the Great Hall and descended the steps into the bailey to rejoin his knights. How was he going to deal with this Eleanor? She was entirely too naïve—and stubborn into the bargain! The remembrance of her hand’s warmth, felt softly by his lips in a quick brush… How unusual, such warmth and softness… No—he must force that memory from his mind! There were other ways to quench that feeling and many comely lasses at Wykeham and noble ladies in other places who were only too willing. He had only to snap his fingers.
The servants had begun setting up the Great Hall for the next meal, and Eleanor made her way between the rows of planked tables being readied for the guests. Once in her solar, she washed her face and hands, drying them on the towels Agnes held out for her, and changed into a cerulean blue gown with a cerise surcoat.
“Milady!” Anne hurried through the doors into her solar. She curtsied, as Eleanor turned toward her, still arranging a few jewels in her hair. “I heard Hugh of Wykeham has arrived early!” Anne exclaimed. Her eyes sparkled. “I hear he is as handsome as ever, and that—”
“Hush, Anne!” Eleanor said, smiling to take the edge from her words. “Such gossip, already!”
Anne stopped and hung her head. “I am heartily sorry, Lady Eleanor. I forgot myself.”
“Don’t worry,” Eleanor reassured her, patting her shoulder. “You always make me smile.” She smoothed her hair back. “What think you of this gown?”
“Oh, Milady,” Anne said, “Methinks Lord Hugh will think you a feast for the eyes!”
Eleanor shook her head and sighed in exasperation. “Nay, Anne! Hush, I say! Lord Hugh is most certainly not the sort of man I would ever wish to think me a feast for the eyes. He is a thorn in my side, most certainly, and ruder than any knave I have had the misfortune to meet. He’s trying to bully me and thinks me no better than a child.”
Anne’s eyes widened. “Oh, Lady Eleanor,” she said, “I have already heard a few whisperings about your meeting with him just now. Certes, he must be an ungrateful guest to be so rude to his hostess!”
Eleanor tightened her mouth. “I have already argued with him, I’m afraid. I will not allow him to tell me what to do with mine own household!”
“He wants to manage Strathcombe?” Anne asked, her eyes wide.
“Hugh tells me that he wants to arrest Osbert to stop the poachings and that I am incapable of managing my own forests. He claims I am a fool for trusting my own household.” Eleanor grimaced. “He has not a shred of evidence for what he says, except that the poachings are still going on!”
“Oh!” Anne gasped, clasping her hands together. “Milady, you are in sore straits indeed! What can you do?”
“He cannot tell me what to do—only William of Litchfield has the power to do that,” Eleanor said. “But,” she paused to draw a breath, “I suppose, if he so chooses, of course he could bring his knights from Wykeham and take Osbert by force. Judging from his demeanor, I would say that was a likely possibility,” she scoffed. “But, I don’t think he will risk the displeasure of William of Litchfield, my liege lord, although they are equals.”
“Nor your displeasure, either,” Anne said.
“Hmph!” Eleanor snorted. “At this point, I don’t think he cares that he displeases me, at all! He wishes to be well rid of me, I am certain. Then he could do exactly what he wants about the poaching matter.”
“Alack, Lady Eleanor! When do you meet with him again?”
“We will talk during the meal,” Eleanor sighed. “Although right now, I would love to send him packing back to Wykeham!” She smiled at Anne.
Anne giggled and hooked her arm through Eleanor’s, and they made their way down to the Great Hall.
Loud laughter and conversation filled the Great Hall, now crowded with knights, ladies, and all manner of guests. “The Lady Eleanor,” Gilbert the Steward announced over the hubbub. All the company stood as Eleanor entered, and they bowed or curtsied to her as she wove her way between the great planked tables, loaded with all manner of victuals.
As she approached her chair at the high table, its back to the blazing hearth, she saw Hugh retake his seat, deep in conversation with Nicholas, her stable master. She did not like the looks of that, she told herself. Here he was, no doubt meddling in her affairs already!
Hugh
