‘It’s nothing. Just a graze,’ Hugh said dismissively.
Eleanor shook her head. ‘No, it needs cleaning up and I’ll do it myself. Good morning to you, Sir William.’
‘My lady.’ Will bowed over Eleanor’s hand and flashed a grin at Hugh, who scowled back.
Chapter Five
It had been a mistake. A colossal mistake to insist on cleaning Hugh’s wound herself.
Eleanor had become aware of her error the minute he sat opposite her on a bench in their solar, watching her with a guarded intensity that had almost robbed her of her breath.
Now the silence stretched, with only the noise of the crackling fire in the hearth breaking through.
Really, what had she been thinking, offering to clean Hugh’s wound? Someone else could have done it and spared her the embarrassment of being in such close proximity to this man.
This man?
She had to stop thinking of Hugh as no one of consequence when the reality was screaming at her. He was her husband, and even though for now it was in name only, he was her husband. A very large, very looming, very real, half-naked husband.
She gulped and bent her head lower, concentrating on the task at hand rather than contemplating Hugh’s sinewy taut, muscle-bound body.
Ever since their wedding night Eleanor had been anxious, knowing that her new husband would finally make the demands of her that she dreaded but expected. Instead they had continued playing chess, which he had taught her with unreserved patience. And during those moments Eleanor would lose sight of who she was with and enjoy the intricacies of the game, pitching her ability against his.
But it was more than that, and if Eleanor was honest with herself she’d say that she actually enjoyed Hugh’s company as well. He treated her like an equal, respecting her views even if at times they disagreed about an issue. Yet she could not help but feel shy and unsure around him when they weren’t playing.
As Lady Eleanor Tallany, and even when she dissembled as The Fox, she had purpose and confidence—but as a wife she did not.
Annoyed with herself, and the direction of her thoughts, Eleanor thrust her fingers into the pewter bowl of warmed honeyed water on the small trestle table and continued to wipe the wound clean with strips of linen.
Hugh coughed, dragging her attention back to him. ‘Eleanor? I think... I believe it is done.’
‘Mmm?’ she muttered. ‘I beg your pardon?’
She continued to wipe the wound. Rubbing it briskly, back and forth.
‘I believe it’s now sufficiently clean, don’t you?’ His eyes crinkled in amusement.
It was that blasted kiss! That astonishing, disturbing and yet melting kiss that Eleanor was so confused about. But she had more important things to think about, for the love of God—like how she could distribute food to the people who needed it and give back the silver stolen by the outlaws from Lord Edmund Balvoire to his poor beleaguered people.
She swallowed. ‘Yes, so it is. I try to complete a task well.’
‘That is a comfort to know. Thank you.’
A smile tugged at the corners of Hugh’s lips, making her think once again of that kiss.
Oh, for goodness’ sake!
Her reaction on their wedding night had been instinctive and visceral, even though she’d known that their kiss would lead them to fall into what might be considered normal and binding for a marriage contract. But Eleanor just hadn’t been able to go through with it, and she was not stupid enough to believe the situation could endure indefinitely. Eventually something would have to break through the impasse.
If she was honest with herself, Eleanor was no longer as wary of Hugh, even though she had barely slept after his surprise offer on their wedding night. He had kept to his word and stayed firmly outside the bed curtain, but she could hardly pretend that curiosity wasn’t getting the better of her. She seemed to be aware of him whenever he was near...or far.
His low voice interrupted her conflicted thoughts. ‘I’m glad we have this opportunity to talk, actually, Eleanor, as I’ve been puzzling over something you said last night.’
She frowned. ‘Oh, what is that?’
‘I cannot help but feel that, despite Tallany being a prosperous estate, the village and its people do not seem to actually reap the benefits. Is there a reason for this?’
Eleanor lifted her head and met Hugh’s inquisitive gaze. The fact that her new husband was interested in Tallany, and its vast area of land, was to be expected—especially as he was its new lord—but that he should also seem concerned about its people was something so incredible that she was momentarily speechless.
She drew in a deep breath. ‘I believe that could be a consequence of the losses in France and the aftermath of Bouvines.’
‘I see—or rather I do now,’ he muttered, shaking his head. ‘I have been away from England for so long that I had not realised that our recent failures on campaign had affected people as drastically as they have.’
Eleanor raised her brows and wondered whether Hugh really did see. Did he realise that the situation had been further exacerbated by the King’s heavy tax scutage? Evidently not.
‘Surely you knew something of what was happening back home?’ she said.
‘Only what was happening at court.’ He grimaced. ‘When you’re away, all you think about is how to get through each situation, each crisis, each battle. You never stop to realise that the outcome, whether good or bad, success or failure; affects us all.’ He sighed. ‘I suppose that is one explanation as to why the country is plagued with so much lawlessness.’
‘Indeed.’
The plight of ordinary people was the very thing that had made The Fox and the outlaws such a necessity in Tallany. Yet Hugh’s incessant pursuit of them, and in particular Le Renard, was now making
