That would sting, indeed, especially because of the thoughts and dreams that still assaulted her almost constantly regarding Hugh. His strong arms holding her, his hands gently stroking her, all the while gazing into her eyes with that blue, blue gaze, and then his mouth, kissing her… She shook her head to try and clear it. Stop! She must stop this!
If Osbert had indeed solved the poaching, then not only was he safe from Hugh’s harassment, but so was she. She could look Hugh in the eye and tell him that he could mind his own forests and leave hers to her. The knave! How she would look forward to that! Then, she could better deal with William and leverage her success somehow to gain time to resolve Mary’s betrothal and her own proposed marriage. She shuddered at the thought. Wed to William!
But, if Osbert had not been successful… She frowned. She would need all her wits at her disposal. She would be arresting John de Bretton and having to fend off Hugh and his bullying.
“Agnes?” Eleanor asked, brushing her hair and tucking it under her cap.
“Yes, Milady,” Agnes answered, looking up from the gown she was inspecting for fleas and mites. Agnes had been oddly reluctant to meet her eyes this morning, and Eleanor sensed that something was amiss. What was wrong with Agnes?
“Think you that Osbert will have arrested the poachers now?” Eleanor asked. “I do not want to see Hugh arrest him and question him harshly.”
“Nor I, Milady,” Agnes agreed quickly. Then she turned red and lowered her head to her task. Eleanor studied her for a moment, and then walked across her solar and stood in front of Agnes. Agnes looked up and caught her lip.
“Is there something you wish to tell me?” Eleanor asked, with a small smile.
Agnes clasped her hands together. “Oh, Lady Eleanor, I am so distressed! I know not what to do!”
Eleanor reached out her hand and put it on Agnes’s shoulder for a moment. “Nay, dear Agnes. Tell me, and I can help you.”
Agnes’s eyes welled with tears, and she rubbed at them with her sleeve. “I—Osbert—I cannot bear to be without him,” she confessed. “I know I should not have done ’t, Milady, but, but, he was lonely, and—and I could not help myself.”
Eleanor stifled a gasp. “Have you—have you been together, Agnes?” She tried to keep her voice calm.
“Aye,” Agnes admitted. She looked up at Eleanor, red-eyed. “He was so gentle and loving, and I—I allowed him to have his way with me. Now, he may be arrested and taken away to Wykeham Castle and I might never see him again!” she wailed.
“Now, now,” Eleanor comforted Agnes, patting her on the shoulder. “We shall see what today brings. Do you know anything about whom he suspected?” she asked.
Agnes looked stricken and caught her lower lip. “Nay, he would not tell me, to protect me, he said.” She dabbed at her eyes again. “He does think it someone of importance, and I would hazard a guess that it is John de Bretton, but I do not know.”
“Hmmm,” Eleanor said. “If it is John, then Hugh himself has no control of his own forest.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “I will amuse myself a great deal, if it’s true!”
“I am sure, Milady. But—I hope Osbert will bring in the poachers to the assize safely,” Agnes said.
“And I as well,” Eleanor agreed. How she would love to triumph over Hugh, if truly it was his own chief forester who was engineering the poaching—if Hugh did indeed come. She frowned; she did not want Osbert to be in danger, so she trusted he had taken enough men with him. They would all soon find out.
Dressed and ready, Eleanor summoned Mary and Anne from their solars to accompany her to the Great Hall for the feast preceding the assize, which was to be at terce, in the bailey. As she, Mary, and Anne descended the stairs and began to enter the Great Hall, a great commotion arose outside.
“Lord Hugh of Wykeham has arrived,” Gilbert the Steward announced. He hoped Lady Eleanor would be ready. Mary clutched at her sister’s hand.
Eleanor’s mouth felt dry. He had come, after all. She looked to the source of all the hubbub and saw Hugh stride into the antechamber in front of the Great Hall, his stature dwarfing all around him. He gazed around the crowded chamber and then his eyes met hers. Dear God in heaven, Eleanor thought, her eyes locked on his and feeling her pulse race, how could she stop these thoughts from flooding into her brain? Could he sweep her into his arms? She shook her head to clear it.
Zounds! Hugh thought. She became lovelier each time he saw her! Mary was pretty enough, but there was something about Eleanor’s eyes and mouth that pulled at him. Hugh coughed. Enough! What of Mary? Why could he not think thus of Mary? He bowed to Eleanor and took her hand in his.
“Lady Eleanor,” Hugh murmured, brushing his lips over her hand, feeling again the warmth and softness. He stepped away from her. Depardieux! What was wrong with him?
“Lord Hugh,” Eleanor answered, lifting her chin, trying to halt the trembling in her hands at his touch. She had to remove herself from his presence. “What a pleasure that you are in time to join us for the feast.” She motioned to Gilbert the Steward. “Please see to‘t that Lord Hugh is made welcome.”
With those words, she swept into the Great Hall, Mary in her wake. As God was true, she could not be near Hugh without being assaulted by alarming thoughts. No one had ever made her feel this way before, and she could not brook it.
Hugh stood, dumbfounded at his swift dismissal. What discourtesy! Next to him stood Anne and Agnes. “Your lady doth dismiss me curtly,” he said. “She esteems me not, I think,” he said, sardonically.
“Oh,
