The outlaws showed their displeasure, grumbling, but Le Renard slammed his mug on the table to get their attention.
‘I take the safety of each and every man here very seriously,’ he barked. ‘And I will not risk anyone until danger is averted. Even now we’re being hunted by the likes of Balvoire, who’d have us strung up high, given half a chance. I cannot risk it.’
Le Renard looked at the assembled group, each man as dependable as the next, and felt immense gratitude to each of them.
‘We have always come together to address the injustice in our land—to help and protect those in need—but we must stop doing what we do...for now.’ The outlaw leader nodded at each one of them from beneath his mask. ‘Are we in agreement, then? What say you, my brave and honourable men?’
Le Renard flexed his arm and waited as each man cried, ‘Aye!’ before placing his hand on top of his until their clasped hands formed a circle of solidarity.
Chapter Thirteen
Eleanor stared at her husband’s stiff back as she rode on her young horse behind him as their cavalcade entered a woodland in glorious verdant shades of green on the edge of a small hamlet.
There was something very wrong with Hugh.
Initially, Eleanor had thought that it was the distraction of heading their travelling party, the responsibility of the venture as well as the many duties he had to attend to day and night but...no. Although he was courteous, and had ensured her comfort and that of her women during their journey, there was no mistaking a change within him.
It was perplexing to find that Hugh’s feelings had seemingly altered towards her after their growing closeness. It had started the night before their departure, when he hadn’t slept in their bed or even in their solar. She hadn’t given it much thought, but after three days and three nights on the road he had still not come to her at night.
It was strange behaviour, but mayhap he thought to observe propriety whilst they were travelling and leave Eleanor to her women.
And there was more than that. On the morning they had left he had put Tallany under the command of one of his most trusted men and effectively retired Gilbert Claymore—which had been shocking, to say the least, as it had been done without discussion with her and in a very heavy-handed manner.
What was wrong with Hugh?
Eleanor had wondered whether her husband had somehow found out about her involvement with the outlaws—or, God forbid, that she was Le Renard—but had dismissed those notions since Hugh had not made any accusations of that kind. Her fear of that had at least abated.
But then it did still beg the question of Hugh’s change of behaviour. Could it be that Hugh was worried about getting too close to her? He had warned her on many occasions that he wasn’t interested in courtly love. Especially as the only other time he’d got close to a woman it had ended badly for him.
Now he had fulfilled his marriage obligation and finally taken her to bed—many times—there was no reason for him to spend more time than necessary with her.
Oh, but she wished he would. Eleanor missed those tantalisingly private moments they’d shared.
What if he had put her to one side to find someone else to warm his pallet at night? It made her ache inside just thinking about that possibility, but then again it was highly unusual for any husband to be enamoured of his wife. And it was not as if their marriage had been of his choosing.
She tilted her head and peered at Hugh, riding out front on his magnificent destrier, and sighed. The only thing to do was to try and find out what was troubling her husband.
She gently kicked her palfrey’s flanks to coax it into catching up with Hugh’s horse at the front of the cavalcade.
‘Good morning, husband. I hope you are faring well?’
‘As well as can be,’ he said, without any of his usual humour, looking straight ahead of him.
‘You did not come to our tent last night, Hugh.’ She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘I thought mayhap... Well, now that we have been travelling for the past few days—’
‘Excuse me, my lady, but is there anything that you need?’
You—only you.
‘I believe we must be getting close to Milnthorpe soon. Do we still have time to stop for a few hours whilst I pay my respects?’
‘Yes, if you wish it.’
‘I do,’ she said. ‘It has been a long time since I was there last.’
‘Good, that’s settled. Now, if there’s nothing else, I have other things I must attend to.’
‘Hugh, wait. My ladies and I will need to clean off the dirt of the last few days’ travel before we offer our prayers.’
‘I’m sure you will—and I’m sure we can stop by a stream somewhere.’
‘Thank you.’ Eleanor inclined her head.
‘Now we must press on. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have an important matter that I must discuss with Sir William,’ he said curtly, setting his horse and speeding ahead.
She tried to keep up with her husband. ‘Shall I accompany you?’ she asked.
‘I really don’t think that’s necessary.’
She frowned. ‘Very well...but when shall I see you?’
Hugh turned his head and fixed her with a hard stare. ‘Really, Eleanor, we’re not bound together at every moment.’
Stunned by her husband’s uncharacteristic rudeness, Eleanor was momentarily taken back. ‘I didn’t say we were.’
‘Go to your women, my lady. I haven’t got time for this.’
‘Well, my lord, when you do find the time, be sure to tell me. It would be of interest to me to know why my husband is behaving like a boorish ass.’
Eleanor was finding it difficult to keep her temper under control, but that stemmed from confusion. She just couldn’t understand the
