He held the long shaft of the quarterstaff across himself and gripped it on either side.
‘Hold it in front of you like this and lean in.’
‘Like this?’
‘Very good—remember your footwork, my lady. Make sure you are light on your feet at all times.’
Hugh started to move stealthily to one side, prompting Eleanor to move too.
‘And so begins our dance around each other.’ The corners of Hugh’s lips curved. ‘Very good.’
‘Well, I can see now why you’re so good at dancing.’ Eleanor shook her head and chuckled as her skirts swished against the floor.
‘Just so, and the dance of combat is no less intense than any other. Now, concentrate—because at any moment I may strike out.’ Hugh lunged forward slowly with his quarterstaff. ‘Like this. Now you need to defend yourself.’
Eleanor thrust up her weapon and made contact against Hugh’s.
Whack.
‘Too excessive. Yield it lightly, Eleanor. But at all times defend, deflect and be ruthlessly dextrous.’
‘Surely not ruthless, my lord?’ Her lips quirked into a smile.
‘Oh, yes, Eleanor. The key to the quarterstaff, unlike other weaponry, is anticipation.’
‘Anticipation?’
‘Indeed. You must be swift, nimble and quick-witted, but at all times remember to anticipate me....’
The slow smile he gave her almost made her drop her weapon and swoon. Lord, what was happening to her?
She gave herself a mental shake and tried to do as Hugh had instructed and concentrate. The truth was that, although the quarterstaff was new to her, she was well trained in the art of combat. Her father, and after his death Gilbert her steward, had secretly taught her what they deemed necessary skills. The fact that Eleanor was a keen student, and instantly took to being ‘ruthlessly dextrous’, as Hugh had put it, meant that she was highly skilled and proficient.
Not that her husband knew any of this, and that was a reminder not to give herself away.
So she played down her natural ability and made herself look a little clumsy.
‘Very well...now I want to show you the stance you must adopt when you attack. Imagine we’re adversaries.’
Eleanor heard Hugh inhale deeply as he placed his quarterstaff on the floor and walked behind her, facing her back.
‘Surely not?’ she said, disconcerted that he was so close behind her.
Hugh levelled the quarterstaff Eleanor was holding, lifting it higher. ‘That’s it—keep your weapon at this angle,’ he said, covering her hands with his. ‘Keep your head forward, tilt your chin a little higher. A bit more. Good, now widen your legs, keeping your balance on your back leg.’
He removed his hands, only to place them either side of Eleanor’s waist, making her gulp.
‘You need to take a big step forward, pushing through from here,’ he said, squeezing her waist gently. ‘And, no, I am not your enemy, Eleanor...but imagine that I am,’ he whispered, his lips close to her ear, tickling the column of her neck.
She felt the absence of the warmth of his hands around her waist as he detached them and ambled back to face her, picking up his weapon.
‘It would be more than my life’s worth to cross swords with you, or in this case a quarterstaff, but let’s pretend, shall we?’
He smiled that lop-sided smile that did strange things to her.
‘Yes, let’s,’ she said, returning his smile.
Hugh adjusted her hold on the quarterstaff and tilted her chin up. ‘Keep thrusting forward with your weapon to attack.’
‘Like this?’
‘Good. Now, do that again whilst I show you the defensive stance you need to adopt.’
Eleanor tried not to notice the graceful movements of her husband, or his rippling muscles as he deflected each challenging swipe she made with her weapon.
He stopped abruptly, holding out his hand. ‘Now we will switch around and I shall attack whilst you block me.’
Hugh lunged forward, striking with his weapon slowly to allow Eleanor to intercept his attack—which she did ineptly.
‘Not bad, my lady,’ he said, despite her deliberately bad attempt. Not that Hugh knew any better.
‘I’m doing as you instructed.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m anticipating you.’
‘Are you, now?’ he said softly. ‘As much as you anticipate me, Eleanor, you never fail to surprise me.’
Her heart quickened—and not because of the exercise. ‘Is...is that a good thing?’
‘Aye, very good.’ The timbre of his voice was so low that she felt it rumble through her.
‘Take a step closer,’ he panted. ‘So that we’re eye to eye and both our weapons are engaged.’
Eleanor did as he bade and watched him, mesmerised.
‘Good. And now...now we must... We need to...’ Hugh’s voice trailed away.
She was so close that she could see the flecks of gold and amber in his verdant green eyes. They held a raw emotion that transcended anything she had ever seen before. He stilled, and suddenly the very air in the chamber seem to have been sucked out.
Hugh said something under his breath as he gripped her quarterstaff and gently tugged it until she let go. He tossed both weapons to one side. The tension that crackled between them was now a different sort of anticipation. His fingers tentatively reached for her head and unbound her hair, taking out the pins and watching as it tumbled down in waves around her shoulders.
Dear God, he wanted her—and, shockingly, it no longer scared her. When and how had that happened? Even more shockingly, she wanted him too. It bewildered and confused her, but nevertheless it was true.
Her eyes flicked to his lips, smooth and sensual. She exhaled quick hot breaths. Oh, Lord, she really was going to swoon. Hugh’s gaze locked onto hers as his fingers curled around her waist, gently pulling her closer until they were almost touching, and she trembled.
Anticipation, indeed!
Without any warning Hugh swooped down and kissed her, open-mouthed. His tongue slid across her lips and plunged in, savouring her hungrily as a soft moan escaped her lips. His other hand slipped into her hair and moved round to the back of her head, anchoring her to him.
Eleanor clung to Hugh and tried to match him with the same fervour, exploring and tasting him as he pressed