She rode ahead, leaving him wondering about everything that had transpired between them. One thing was for sure: their morning together riding had been unlike any other they had yet shared.
Chapter Three
The great hall of Tallany Castle had not seen such revelry for a generation. Sumptuous tapestries hung from the stone walls and trellis tables were festooned with flowers and lush foliage. Trenchers groaned with pheasant, beef and chicken, cooked in a myriad of spices, with almonds and figs, served with wine from Eleanor’s ancestral lands in Gascony. This was followed by sweetmeats, sugared quince, potted fruit and ginger biscuits decorated with honey and edible spring flowers.
The room was filled with the hum and chatter of wedding feast merriment and the ode of a troubadour broke through the noise.
Eleanor looked across and caught Sir Hugh—now Lord of Tallany, her husband—looking at her just as she was putting the last of a crumbly ginger biscuit in her mouth. She instantly looked away when she noticed his lips curving upwards to form that lop-sided grin of his.
She must stop stealing looks at Hugh—it was not as though she wanted his attention. Yet she could hardly avoid him now that they were married—something she had done ever since they had arrived back from their horse ride yesterday morning.
Eleanor could hardly think of it without feeling mortified. She hadn’t meant to betray her emotions on that ride, but Hugh was evidently good at getting under her skin.
It made her feel uneasy that he had the ability to get past her defences. Husband or not, he was still the King’s man. She must keep him at an arm’s length and not allow him to get too close to her. For one thing, he mustn’t find out about Eleanor’s involvement with the outlaws. It was imperative that she did not jeopardise either her safety or theirs, and the important work they were doing to undermine King John’s rule.
The other thing... Ah, the other thing was the sense of dread she felt about what would follow this wedding feast—the wedding night.
She gave herself a mental shake, pushing those unwanted thoughts out of her head, and then watched, surprised, as a knight with the standard of Lord Edmund Balvoire entered the hall. The man looked around and tapped the sealed missive in his hand before presenting it to Gilbert at the side of the hall.
Now, what did that slimy toad Balvoire want at a time like this?
Eleanor watched with interest as Gilbert brought the missive to Hugh, who caught her eye and nodded briefly.
‘Is all well?’ she asked, as Hugh frowned after reading through the missive. ‘I hope there is no trouble?’
‘No more than usual, Eleanor. It seems that the outlaws and their leader...this Le Renard, or The Fox, or whatever he likes to call himself...were sighted a few days ago on Edmund Balvoire’s land. They stole all the silver levy intended for the Crown.’
‘That’s terrible.’ She hid a knowing smile behind her goblet as she took a sip of wine.
‘It’s more than terrible. Balvoire will petition the King for more aid.’
Hugh’s voice was low and its tone unlike how she’d ever heard him use before.
‘I will find them soon—and Lord help them, especially Le Renard, when I do!’
She gulped down her wine too hastily, making herself cough, and she placed her goblet back on the trestle table.
‘Apologies, my lady,’ he whispered, patting her back. ‘Come, let’s not talk of this and we shall enjoy our wedding feast instead.’
But Eleanor perceived the tension emanating from Hugh and reminded herself that she had to be very careful. Danger was all around her; one false move would prove fatal.
The troubadour’s ode had finished, to a cheer of approval, and immediately the musicians struck up a familiar melodic tune.
Lord Hugh, as he had now become, rose suddenly and bowed, holding out his hand. Eleanor rose too, unsure, and curtseyed before accepting his hand, their feather-light fingertips barely touching. They descended the dais together to begin the wedding dance, with their guests cheering and banging their goblets on the tables.
Hugh and Eleanor came together, held hands above their heads and circled each other, forming the elegant shapes of the dance.
‘You seem distracted,’ she said, and swallowed as a momentary pang of guilt spiked through her. She knew she was the cause of Hugh’s troubles.
‘I’m sorry... I believe I am.’
She bit her bottom lip, ‘And I believe it is customary for a husband to make small pleasantries on such an occasion. Even if it is for the benefit of his guests.’
Eleanor raised a brow, hoping to cajole him back into being his usual self, forgetting that she had barely spoken to him since the horse ride.
Hugh blinked in surprise and a slow smile spread on his face. ‘True—but allow me to say, for your benefit alone, Eleanor, how lovely you look on this...happy occasion.’
They continued to circle each other in the wedding dance, every brush of his fingers, every lingering gaze playing havoc on her senses. It was annoying that he was so attractive—his dark hair curling slightly at the back, his broad shoulders filling a wine-coloured tunic that was edged in silver thread and nipped in at the waist by a leather belt and a long dark surcoat over that.
He towered over the entire hall, and those keen, sharp eyes didn’t seem to miss a beat. Even the scar that split his left eyebrow in two gave him a certain powerful edge. Once again she felt nervous about everything—about later—and once again she pushed her thoughts away, lifting her head to face him.
‘I must say that for a big, tall soldier you are surprisingly light on your feet and graceful in your moves.’
‘Would it surprise you even more to know that, despite the impediment of my big, clumsy appearance, I actually enjoy dancing, music and merriment.’
‘It would—just as it might surprise you to know that I do not.’
‘Ah, but your lack of appearance at
