“I have a question of you,” William said, his eyes narrowed. Eleanor swallowed hard. His expression did not bode well for her. Had he heard something that displeased him? Had he heard of Hugh’s plan to make Mary his wife instead of her marrying the French count, and did he think Eleanor was favoring that betrothal? In truth, Eleanor admitted to herself, she didn’t even know herself what she wanted anymore.
“In a sennight, I will be judging at the assize,” William continued. “Hugh has told me that if there are no poachers arrested before that day, he will arrest Osbert and that you, in turn, threatened to arrest John de Bretton.” He leaned closer to her, and Eleanor caught a whiff of spoiled meat. She tried not to gag. “Do you think the reason the poachers have not yet been caught is that Hugh, himself, is at the bottom of it all?”
“What?” Eleanor exclaimed. “Hugh? Hugh of Wykeham? Poaching in his own forest?” She could not believe her ears. “But—but he worries that the King himself may take his forest from him!” she protested.
“Nay!” William said and laughed harshly. Eleanor started in surprise, stepping back quickly. “He knows King Edward will never take his forest from him—his boon companion on the Crusade! Besides, the noble family of Wykeham has held the rights to the forest since Henry I. Nay, milady,” William said slyly, “Lord Hugh is making trouble in Strathcombe forest and his own forest so that you look like a fool who cannot manage my nominal estate and whose chief forester is incompetent and gives harbor to criminals. He thinks that because of this, I will more readily sell him the rights to Strathcombe forest for an offer of silver, to rid myself of this petty annoyance, an offer I am certain he will make at the assize. Surely, his coffers must have been drained by his expedition to the Holy Land, and thus he needs revenue. What better way to come by it than by obtaining more forest lands—more licenses to issue and more revenue to refill his coffers?”
Suddenly, Eleanor felt cold. Was this true? Was Hugh working behind her back, in a double conspiracy with his own chief forester against William—and against her? But his anger about the poaching had been genuine, had it not? He had been furious at the crimes and at her inability to arrest the criminals. She could not fathom the possibility of his being so deceitful and manipulative. Truly, he did not seem the sly, sneaky type, as William so definitely was. If Hugh wanted the rights to her forest from William, why would it take accusations of mismanagement to make William want to sell the rights? William might have been willing to sell the Strathcombe rights without any problems, as it was.
“I—I must think on this, William,” she said, slowly. “In truth, I don’t think it’s true. But” —she added quickly, seeing William’s face darken— “but I will consider it carefully.”
“And well you should,” William answered, stroking her arm. “He would not be the man you would want to wed your dear sister.”
Eleanor fought the impulse to snatch her arm away. Was that William’s motive in suggesting this conspiracy—so she would not want to agree to Mary’s and Hugh’s betrothal? He must have heard talk of Hugh’s wanting to wed Mary already. Gossip! Obviously, William hoped that if Eleanor thought Hugh a knave, he would be free to marry Mary off to France, without a murmur from Eleanor. Eleanor’s mind raced through all the possible scenarios and schemes.
She took a deep breath. “I am sure your words have much thought behind them,” she replied, “and I will judge them carefully. Truly, my neighbor Hugh might not be the most delicate or courteous in his manners, but a conspiracy…?” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “I thank you for your concern,” she finished, and, inclining her head, she curtseyed. “I take my leave, sire, and will see you at the assize. Let us pray for criminals to be apprehended before the assize.”
William grabbed for her hand before she could slip away and pressed his fleshy lips on her skin. “Milady,” William said, a leer on his face, “soon to be my wedded wife. Soon, soon, we shall enjoy each other. Travel safely and God speed.”
“Thank you,” Eleanor managed to blurt out, bobbing a quick curtsey once more. Enjoy being with William? She shuddered with disgust, and, with her skirts rustling across the chapel floor, drew Anne, Agnes, and Mary with her outside the chapel and down the stairs to safety—for the moment.
Hugh watched them leave. What had William wanted with Eleanor? Her face was pale and drawn when she emerged from the side chapel. She had not even glanced at Hugh, though, why should she? It wasn’t he that she was going to wed, nor was he going to wed her. What lewd suggestion had William made to her? He could only imagine, William being the churl that he was.
But—he would give more than a fig to know what William had said and why had Eleanor looked so out of sorts. Hugh folded his arms across his chest and frowned. She was a puzzle, this Eleanor. Although it did seem now to him that she could deal with the castle of Strathcombe, still, her mismanagement of the crimes in the forest and her apparent love for Osbert gave the lie to that appearance of being competent. Her attitude and demeanor whenever they met were tense and unyielding, if not nearing rude.
“Your face is pale!” Anne exclaimed to Eleanor as they hurried down the stairs.
“What is wrong, dear sister?” Mary asked, taking Eleanor’s hand in mid-step.
“More of the forest poaching,” Eleanor said grimly.
“Osbert—Osbert is not in even more
