- Le Roman de la Rose, 13th c.
Hugh and his retinue of knights left the next morning before dawn for Wykeham, and Eleanor heard the barking of dogs, whinnying of horses, and shouting of men below in the bailey as they readied for their journey. She was tempted to rise from her bed to look out her high window for one more glimpse of Hugh, but she would wake Agnes, asleep on her cot at the foot of her bed, and she didn’t want to provide more fodder for the gossip mill. Besides, it was only a momentary feeling, that warmth from his lips on her hand, and one she most certainly did not welcome. How could she even consider such a thought? she scolded herself. She must purge it from her memory, just as she must purge the dream she had last night.
She dreamed Hugh had accosted her in the antechamber outside her solar, gazed levelly into her eyes, and, with his hands on her shoulders, gently pinned her against the wall. He had stroked her neck softly from her ear to her throat, where her pulse pounded wildly. His lips grazed her forehead, her cheek, her ear, his breath hot against her skin. Then, wordless, he had sought her mouth with his firm one, and she had felt all her resistance drain away. Then, she had heard footsteps approaching, and she pushed him away. Aye, push him away she must! she admonished herself, still blushing at the memory of the dream.
Hugh was arrogant, rude, and high-handed, all the qualities she despised in a man. Not only was he insolent to her face, accusing her of mismanagement and insinuating she was dallying with Osbert, but he was disrespectful about her to her own household and servants! Eleanor tugged the sheets up closer around her, still bristling at the memory of what had happened to her last evening in the Great Hall, after Hugh had left abruptly.
In an effort to be the courteous hostess and to try to make up for her not inviting him to dance, she had sent word to Hugh through Gilbert the Steward that Hugh was welcome to stay for the visit of William of Litchfield in a day’s time. Gilbert reported back to her that Hugh had responded he had important business to attend to and did not have time for childish levity and feasts. Others might have time for play and such, but he did not. Eleanor colored at Hugh’s words, relayed through Gilbert, feeling the snub, but allowed Gilbert only to see her shrug her shoulders. Gilbert was faithful and true and she guessed he suffered on her account because of Hugh’s harsh words, though, of course, he would not acknowledge it, attempting to allow her to keep her pride. She had tried to be gracious to her guest, difficult enough as it was—and she felt slapped in return. Hugh was awful! ‘Twas a good thing indeed that she’d not invited him to dance. He most likely would have turned her down, adding to her discomfort and embarrassment.
Eleanor frowned. Not only was Hugh supercilious, but worse, he mocked her about her loyalty, denigrating her family’s motto, insinuating that she was but a naïve child because she stupidly trusted people she had known her whole life long. That above all she could not deal with. It was so far from the manner in which she had been brought up. She was certain her father would have been able to put Hugh in his place. She surely hoped she could do so. She must! she commanded herself, and got up to prepare for the day.
After mass in the chapel and the morning meal, Eleanor sent for Osbert.
“Milady,” Osbert said, bowing as he entered the Great Hall, making his way toward Eleanor, seated in her chair. “You wished to see me?”
Was his face more hopeful than it should be? Eleanor thought in dismay. If even Hugh spoke of Osbert’s feelings for her, the rumors must be flying already. Why was she now being faced with this dilemma of Osbert? It could only complicate the poaching and forest matters for her—and they were already difficult enough.
“Aye, Osbert,” Eleanor said, trying to convey mere friendliness with a hint of reserve. “We must increase our patrols in the forest. Can you ask your foresters to aid you?”
“But, Milady,” Osbert protested, “they are already patrolling throughout the forest daily. It would be difficult for me to ask more of them.”
Eleanor held up a hand, as if to ward off more argument. “Osbert, I can understand your reluctance, but I’m afraid we have no choice.”
Osbert frowned. “Lord Hugh has told you to do this, I fear, hasn’t he?”
Eleanor tightened her grip on the arm chair. Osbert should not be allowed to think that Hugh was dictating to her how to manage her affairs. She was more than capable of handling them and couldn’t allow anyone to think otherwise—she might have her lands taken away by William of Litchfield. She lifted her chin. “He and I have agreed to meet in a fortnight’s time, and he claims he will enforce the same patrols with his foresters.”
“Methinks Lord Hugh is overstepping his bounds,” Osbert said, clenching his fists at his sides. “He must spend his time with his own estate, and leave you to yours, which you do administer fairly.”
“I thank you for that,” Eleanor said. Then she paused. Was Osbert giving her a true compliment, or was there another reason he was pleased with the way she ran Strathcombe—because he could allow poachers to roam in the chase? Eleanor sighed. God’s eyes, but that Hugh had done her a disservice by casting doubt on her faithful Osbert! She looked at Osbert.
“What you say is right about the estates, but because his lands border ours, I have to work with him, I’m afraid. Please, Osbert, carry out
