‘As you are now?’ she retorted. ‘In that case there really doesn’t seem any way out of this unwanted marriage.’
‘No... I’m sorry that I’m not what you envisaged, but I will endeavour to be a good husband.’
Eleanor rather doubted that—especially if Sir Hugh knew to what extent she had conspired against King John. Besides, she didn’t want another husband who would come to own her, possess her and make her feel totally powerless. Not again.
She screwed her eyes shut and looked away. ‘It’s not that I envisage any other for a husband, Sir Hugh. I had rather hoped not to envisage a husband at all.’
He studied her for a moment, making her wish once again that she’d kept her mouth shut.
‘I’m sorry for that, my lady, but I will not defy the King and neither should you.’ He inhaled before continuing. ‘I hope that you can get used to the idea of our marriage, and with that I would ask if I...may I court you?’
Eleanor was speechless momentarily, flummoxed by this man’s question. ‘You want marriage and courtship at the same time?’
Hugh stepped closer and caught her hand lightly in his. ‘I do...’
He raised her gloved hand to his lips and softly kissed the back of it, sending a ripple of awareness shooting up her arm. He then took a step back, his eyes never leaving hers, inclined his head and turned on his heel and walked out of the solar.
Chapter Two
It had been a miserable week, leading up to the wedding, and by this time tomorrow Hugh would be married to the elusive Lady Eleanor Tallany. Today they were out riding together through the woods, by the demesne lands. The old deciduous woods harboured a purple blanket of flowers on this warm spring morning.
Hugh sighed and glanced over to Eleanor, sitting on top of her grey palfrey. She looked magnificent, if not a little pale, wearing a green woollen gown edged in silver thread, a cream-coloured veil and a silver circlet. With her haughty expression, her back straight and the folds of her dress draped to the side of her horse, she looked regal.
‘Which way would you suggest this morning, Lady Eleanor?’
‘Whichever way pleases you,’ she said stiffly, then as an afterthought turned her head and smiled at him. The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
He pushed down his frustration. ‘I’d rather your opinion, as you know these lands much better than I, but no matter. How about riding north? The steward informs me that it is an area of great natural beauty and offers a splendid view from the hill.’
She shrugged. ‘As you wish.’
‘What I wish is for you to tell me more.’
‘Tell you more about what, Sir Hugh?’
About yourself, about your life...
He took a deep breath. ‘About anything you want. Tell me about Tallany. The land, the villages, the people who reside here.’
She turned her head sharply and swallowed, but when she spoke her voice resumed its flat, vapid tone. ‘Ask the steward—Gilbert Claymore. He will furnish you with any information you need. Now, shall we put these horses through their paces?’ She raised her brows and smiled.
Ah, again that false smile pasted on her face. He groaned inwardly. This was going to be another bad day; he could feel it in his bones. It would be as bad as yesterday, and the day previous to that. In fact he would happily swap this past week for a campaign, fighting a dirty, difficult battle, rather than have to endure another day supposedly courting his betrothed before their marriage.
Which was ridiculous, as he didn’t know anything more about Lady Eleanor than when he’d first met her. If anything, she had been more animated and truer to herself that first time than she had been since.
She avoided him, ignored him, or at best offered short answers to anything he asked, just as she had only moments ago, and all with polite deference.
Eleanor Tallany was more frustrating now than when he had been made to wait for her. And this woman was to be his wife. His wife, for the love of God... And it was patently obvious that his attempt at courtship was just as objectionable to her as the prospect of marriage to him.
Courtship? Well, that was entirely laughable.
Hugh had hoped that by courting Eleanor he would get her to soften her stance and allow him to get to know her, but she welcomed that as much as bloodletting! Which was, no doubt, just as excruciatingly painful.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough there was the unwelcome pull of attraction every time he set eyes on her. He couldn’t understand it. She was everything he loathed in anyone, least of all a woman: haughty, tempestuous and insolent. But it was there every time he encountered her. Even that chaste kiss in her chamber, meant to seal their betrothal, had had him wanting more. And he had only kissed her gloved hand, for pity’s sake!
Hugh had glimpsed Eleanor when she was with her people, her steward, her handmaid, and knew she could be open and warm, her smile genuine. Nothing like the smiles she threw his way.
Damn... All he wanted was to get to know this woman better so that they could build some sort of understanding. A foundation for their imposed marriage. Notwithstanding the fact that Eleanor was a demand on his time with the business of finding and capturing Le Renard and his gang of outlaws. Not that Hugh was close to finding The Fox...yet.
He had to give them credit. The gang had outfoxed them all... They had managed to let loose some of his men’s horses in the middle of the night; with only a few having been retrieved. And a few nights ago they’d made a dent in the food supply by stealing wheat from the village mill, meaning there was little left to make bread with. Highly embarrassing with
