“Indeed,” Agnes said. “We know.”
Hugh raised his eyebrows. “Esteem me?” He laughed shortly. “And how, pray tell, do you know this?”
Anne colored a bit. She looked around them. Everyone was crowding into the Great Hall. Taking a step toward Hugh and pulling Agnes closer, she began speaking in a low voice. “At Litchfield, William did accuse you of engineering the poaching for your own ends. And the Lady Eleanor did tell him that she did not believe you would do such a thing, but that she would think about it. She told us she had to say that only to be politic with William.”
Hugh’s face darkened. “William accused me?” he asked. Pah! He spit on the rush-covered stone floor. “That blackguard?” Hugh tightened his mouth and fingered the dagger at his hip. “I shall deal with William!” Then he paused for a moment. Eleanor had defended him? That was ludicrous! “Did your lady not speak thus because she is such too trusting and trusts anyone, not because she holds me in esteem? She would trust a knave even as he stole her purse filled with coins, I trow!”
Anne’s mouth dropped open and Agnes gasped. “Nay, sire!” Anne exclaimed. “My lady may trust, but her trust is always well-placed. She does not trust William at all, and she said your actions toward her, though harsh, did not lead her to think you would poach in your own forest and conspire thus. William always has plans that advance his own cause, she said, and that she could not forget. She thinks William wishes to discredit you so that she will agree more readily to his request to wed Mary to the French count.”
Hugh sighed heavily. Another surprise about Eleanor—this defense of him to William, her liege lord, risking William’s displeasure. Was she indeed, then, perhaps what she seemed—merely loyal to her own lights—and true—and not the ninny he judged her to be? But he could not be bothered with such thoughts, could he? Was he not planning to marry Mary, a better choice by far than already-bedded, gullible Eleanor, who was soon to be on her way to William’s bed, as it was? By the Trinity, he could not fathom what was taking place inside his brain!
“Hmph!” Hugh grunted. He motioned to the ladies. “Go on, then, and don’t speak of this anymore to anyone. I shall deal with William myself.”
With a scowl, he entered the Great Hall, crowded with knights and ladies laughing and talking loudly. William would discover he had a new enemy in Hugh, thanks to Eleanor’s loose-tongued ladies. The assize should prove to be most interesting—most interesting! William would rue the day he thought to disparage Hugh. Hugh smiled grimly. Indeed, he would take great pleasure in cleverly exposing William’s ploy, without putting Eleanor in jeopardy, of course. He did not want to provoke her when he was trying to acquire her assent to wed her sister.
At the high table, Hugh found himself seated next to Mary. He noted that Henry, William’s nephew, had accompanied his uncle, but was seated at the very end of the table. By whose design? he wondered. He had given much thought to the fact that Mary had spent overmuch time with William’s nephew at the christening, and he knew that now his marriage proposal would be even more unwelcome to her than he was sure it had been before. Was Eleanor now trying to keep Henry away from Mary? Did he have a chance to wed Mary for some unknown reason, after all?
“Good day,” he greeted her.
She blushed, meeting his eyes for only a moment, and replied, “Good day, Lord Hugh.” Then she turned her attention to the cod in sauce on her trencher.
He would try again. “There are many folk who have come for the assize, are there not?” he inquired, hoping to get more of a conversation out of her than a simple yes or no.
“Aye,” she answered. She took the goblet of wine and drank from it, then wiped it with her napkin.
He sighed heavily. It was only too apparent that Mary had no interest in pursuing any conversation with him. No doubt she would far prefer to be seated next to Henry, where they could talk on and on about lutes and such. His hopes for a betrothal to Mary seemed dimmer than ever. Women! What a faithless lot! If he did not need an heir for Wykeham, he would just make do with the doxies that seemed to fall into his lap—or into his bed. He looked past Mary, who seemed engrossed in her meal, and saw Eleanor, her dark hair glinting in the firelight, sitting next to William. That hair—how he would like to entwine his fingers in it. Hugh tightened his mouth. That could not be.
Just then, William leaned in even closer to Eleanor and Hugh felt anger course through his veins. The base knave! Not only would William wed Eleanor, but now he was working against Hugh for his own ends—poisoning Eleanor’s mind with lies and false accusations.
William was one not to be trusted, and Eleanor obviously knew it as well as he did. Beshrew William! Hugh cursed silently. To call his honor into question and sow the seeds of discord with Eleanor, his neighbor! Who knew where else that tale might be told—at the King’s court? Eleanor’s ladies already knew what William said, and, although they didn’t believe the accusation, others might believe that he, Hugh of Wykeham, was capable of poaching and conspiracy.
Hugh reached for his wine goblet that he shared with Mary and quaffed it down. William would find that he had met his match, for once and for all. Perhaps a duel was called for—although, William, that lily-livered scoundrel, would no doubt find some whining excuse not to engage in one. He must ask Eleanor what happened in the conversation she had had with William at the
