‘I can move the pawn just one square?’ she asked. He nodded. ‘How can you be sure of capturing the outlaws?’
‘Much as in chess, I will need my skill to outmanoeuvre them. Eventually they’ll make a mistake—even a small one. And when they do, I’ll be ready. Once I capture Le Renard and his outlaws everything, I believe, will fall into place.’
She swallowed. ‘I see...’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll find them. Trust me, Eleanor.’
Trust him? Of all the things to say.
There was so much to think about, so much to ponder on, that it made her head spin. Her new husband seemed intent on getting to know her, but she wouldn’t allow it. She couldn’t! It would be far too dangerous.
‘I can see already that this may prove to be a long challenge, Eleanor. I hope you’re ready for it?’ he teased.
Yes, she’d play this game—but that didn’t mean he would get any closer to her. Hugh would now be doubling his efforts to capture her outlaw friends, which meant she had to be very vigilant.
What would he do when he realised that the outlaws he sought were the same outlaws that she secretly aided? A shiver went down her spine. There was no way of knowing how he would react. Especially if he discovered that not only did Eleanor help the outlaws but that she was also one of them!
She was, in fact... Le Renard. The Fox he was searching for.
She exhaled slowly. ‘Yes, I’ll be ready.’
One thing was for certain: he must never, ever find out.
Chapter Four
Clank, clank, clank. The quarterstaff of Hugh’s opponent struck out and nearly caught him, but he was too quick and moved swiftly to one side. He briefly looked around the clearing, breathing in clean, fresh air mingled with industrious graft and sweat, and exhaled.
The area around the castle yard was gathering small pockets of curious villagers who were milling around the periphery, watching the combat training in progress. Archers and swordplay in one corner, and targets struck on horseback in another.
Hugh darted to the left and took a few steps back, getting ready to make his own attack as beads of sweat trickled down his face. This was good—very good. Focusing on his training would provide a much-needed balm to his soul. He was a knotted coil of frustration, and the opportunity to expel some of his pent-up energy was welcome indeed.
It had been an inspired suggestion of his to play chess night after night for the past two weeks with Eleanor. He’d watched her, bemused, as she’d become more and more engrossed in their game, her intelligent eyes focussed, the cogs in her head turning. He was impressed that she was so adept at learning and playing the game at the same time. She was giving him a real challenge.
Their evenings were unexpectedly congenial and pleasant, filled with light banter. He sensed that the rare glimpses he’d had of his wife were the real Eleanor and he wanted more... Yet as soon as their game was suspended for the evening she would retreat behind the bed curtain, shutting him out. It was as if she remembered to go back to being distant and reserved when they weren’t playing chess—which was becoming increasingly frustrating and disheartening.
Her reticence and awkwardness must have something to do with Richard Millais. Hugh could only guess what Eleanor had gone through at the hands of her first husband—not that she’d actually confided any of it to him. But the hopelessness and anguish that had been stamped on her lovely face on the fateful night of their wedding was something he could never forget.
‘I’m damaged. I carry terrible scars.’
The fact that Millais had taken sport in inflicting pain upon a woman he’d been supposed to protect and care for made Hugh want to dig the bastard up and tear him limb from limb.
God’s teeth! When he thought of the haughty, imperious woman he had first met, understanding now the pain and hurt beneath that strong exterior, he couldn’t help but admire her. She wore her scars like armour—to protect herself.
There was nothing for it. All he had to do was prove that he was worthy of her and different in every way from Richard Millais.
Ha, all he had to do...
So much easier said than done...
Despite all his attempts to get to know her since their wedding, Eleanor still seemed quite indifferent to him. She had been friendly but guarded since that night, and definitely out of bounds.
Lord above, but it was killing him. Night after night of sleeping in the same chamber, listening to her move and murmur in her sleep, listening to her breathe behind that heavy bed curtain... It was slowly driving him mad.
Hell! There was only one thing for it—he had to woo Eleanor. And for a man who had never had to do very much for women to fall at his feet, it was not going to be easy.
‘You’re a man of few words, old friend, but this is ridiculous. I have been here for a day and you have barely muttered a word. Unless grunting is a word, that is.’
Hugh dodged another scathing blow from the quarterstaff and looked up to meet the amused blue gaze of his friend Sir William Geraint, a man who had taken his knight’s oath the same day as Hugh and had been like a brother and a good friend since.
‘And you, Will, were always one for a conversation even during combat. You’re more suited to the women’s bower chambers,’ he retorted.
‘True.’ William smirked. ‘I am known for my gallantry.’
‘So you say.’
‘So I have always been told by many a good lady.’
‘Not to mention the bad.’
‘Ah, but I’m too much of a chivalrous knight to cast aspersions on any woman’s character.’
‘That is because you’re not too fussy about whom you bed,’ Hugh said as his feet skidded in the dirt.
‘I have standards, whatever you may believe, Sir Hugh.’ Will made an exaggerated mock-bow.
‘It’s Lord Hugh de Villiers of Tallany to you.’
‘So it is.’ Will grinned. ‘You’ve landed on your feet, Hugh, you lucky bastard.’
‘The battlefields at Bouvines were not so lucky for many, Will.’
‘True, but at least some good has come out of it. And it couldn’t have happened to a better man. I’m happy for you, Hugh.’
They continued to circle each other, twisting and turning their weaponry, striking and blocking attack and defence in easy, fluid motions.
Hugh looked up. ‘My thanks, old friend, but it wasn’t an easy landing.’
‘How so?’ asked Will.
Maybe the fact that Hugh had yet to bed his wife after almost three weeks of marriage!
‘For one thing I have not found and brought to justice the outlaws and their leader, Le Renard.’
‘You will. It’s only a matter of time.’
Yes, Hugh had to be patient, it seemed. Patient until he eventually rooted out the outlaws. But there had been no sighting of them since before the wedding. For one reason or another they had not surfaced anywhere, meaning it would not be easy to track them. And in any case his mind was so preoccupied with other things it was difficult to focus and throw his usual zeal into it.
He sighed, thinking once again about his marital problems. It seemed patience was not only needed with the outlaws, but also when it came to Eleanor. Thankfully it was a virtue that he not only possessed but also harnessed in order to use it in very difficult situations—like the ones he’d faced since his betrothal.
He gave himself a mental shake and focussed on trying to win this combat with his tricky opponent. ‘I need to set a trap, Will, and then I’ll get them.’
He thrust forward with his quarterstaff and was met by a defensive swipe by Will. They were close again, nose to nose.
Hugh shook his head. ‘The problem is that Le Renard and his men seem to have melted away into the forest. Disappeared into the night.’
‘Then smoke them out. In fact, the missive I’v
e brought from our King may be the answer.’
Hugh swerved round him and made another swipe. ‘Oh? How so?’
‘New taxes, Hugh.’ Will expelled a breath and engaged with his friend’s quarterstaff. ‘Tax levies that John desperately needs and your outlaws may want to steal back. This could be exactly the way in which to entrap them, don’t you think?’
‘I do.’
Hugh swivelled his staff round and over his arms. He thrust forward, attempting to strike a blow to Will’s ankle, but his friend foresaw his intentions and jumped in the air, avoiding it.
‘Now, is that any way to show your gratitude? A low move even for you, Hugh.’
‘I just wanted to see whether you’re still as quick on your feet as you used to be.’ Hugh chuckled.
‘Glad I passed the test. And now that I’ve helped you with your outlaws, what is the other matter that troubles you?’
Hugh frowned. ‘I don’t recall saying I had other troubles.’
‘When you recounted your difficult landing, you said, “for one thing...” Implying that there is another thing.’
‘You know, Will, you’re damned annoying.’
‘Yes, but I have the right of it, have I not?’ Will raised his brow and tarried with the combat. ‘Come now, man, I’m waiting.’
‘You can wait until hell freezes over.’
‘Dear, oh, dear—and there was I thinking that marriage to an heiress as fair as yours would mellow you. It seems I was wrong.’
‘I’m warning you, Will. I don’t welcome this topic of conversation.’
‘Oh? And why not?’
They circled each other, toe to toe.
‘Just leave it.’
Awareness suddenly trickled through Hugh, making him turn to find Eleanor walking around the edge of the castle yard with her maid, mingling with the villagers and handing out parcels from her basket.
She stopped and met his gaze, giving him a curt nod but seeming reluctant to move away.
Will paused and followed the direction of Hugh’s smouldering gaze. He whistled, shaking his head.
‘Don’t you dare say anything,’ Hugh hissed under his breath, moving forward for another attack.
But he was met with Will’s quarterstaff. ‘I’m not saying a thing,’ Will said, pushing back against Hugh’s weapon.
‘Good!’
‘But if I was...’
‘Will...’ Hugh’s voice held a low warning which was soundly ignored.
‘If I were to offer advice...’
‘Which I would not want,’ Hugh muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
‘Which I would still offer, as your friend...’
Hugh took a step back and lunged forward with force, taking Will by surprise. He lost his footing and fell backwards on the ground with a thud. Will glared at his friend and rubbed the back of his head as Hugh strode towards him and held out his hand, pulling him back on his feet.
‘Unsporting.’
‘I know, and I’m sorry. I... I wasn’t thinking.’
‘Clearly.’ Will looked at his friend and then back at Eleanor, still watching them from afar. He sighed. ‘I would say allow for more time there as well, Hugh.’
‘Are you ready to continue?’ Hugh asked, ignoring him.
They began their dance again, engaging their weapons against each other.
‘Although a marriage like yours has little to do with whom you actually marry and more to do with what you gain,’ said Will. ‘But I can see that for whatever reason it matters to you.’
‘Hell’s teeth, Will—are you still talking?’
‘Tell me why you care?’ Will asked. ‘Tell me.’
‘I need to woo Eleanor.’
‘Pardon me?’ A slow, mischievous smile spread across Will’s face. ‘Well, well, Hugh... I never thought to see the day when a woman didn’t swoon at the sheer sight of you.’
Hugh bit back an oath.
‘Tell me, though... For what purpose do you need to woo Lady Eleanor? You’re already married to her!’ Will stopped for a moment and tapped his chin with his fingers. ‘Ah...let’s see, now... My guess would be that your lady wife is impervious to your charms.’ Will defended himself against another scathing attack and continued. ‘And now you wish to win your wife’s heart?’
‘No, I’m not interested in that!’ Hugh spat. ‘I just want to win her trust. I want to reassure her that not all men are like her cruel bastard of a late husband.’
And he wanted to take her to bed so that he could learn all the secrets of her body...but he couldn’t voice that even to his close friend. For one thing it wasn’t Will’s concern, and for another a marriage that wasn’t consummated could lawfully be dissolved—which was a perilous situation for both Hugh and Eleanor...not that he didn’t trust his friend.
‘You’re in luck that I am here.’ Will grinned.
‘Heaven help me...’
‘As I said before, you need to allow your lady to get used to you, but in the meantime you can use sweet honeyed words and talk yourself into her affections.’
Hugh frowned. ‘Sweet honeyed words?’
‘Better still, deploy a minstrel or a troubadour to bleat on about your chivalric qualities, or mayhap compose a poem of courtly love?’ Will stepped forward and struck his weapon out. ‘Apologies. Not words of love but words of...trust, was it not?’ He smirked. ‘Courtly trust—well, there’s a novel idea.’
‘You believe this to be a jest?’ asked Hugh.
‘On the contrary.’
‘Flowery words are not going to affect Eleanor.’
‘Very well—what about a gift for your lady?’
‘A gift? For an heiress?’
‘Really, Hugh, what is the matter with you? All women like to receive gifts,’ Will said, attacking again. ‘A jewel, a trinket, or a ribbon for your lady’s hair?’
Hugh stopped momentarily and with his quarterstaff raised the leather cord with its silver and ruby pendant from around Will’s neck. ‘Like this little trinket? Remind me who gave this one to you of your many paramours?’
A dark shadow flashed across Will’s eyes before he smiled and shook his head. ‘A gift given in thanks and I’ve always liked it.’ He shrugged. ‘But it wasn’t from any paramour. Anyway, we’re not talking about me, but you.’
‘Are we?’
‘Yes. I am thinking that you should give a gift to your heiress—call it a wedding gift.’
Hugh’s brows furrowed before he lifted his head and nodded. ‘Much as I hate to admit it, it’s not a bad notion.’
‘Glad to be of help.’
‘Not a jewel or a trinket, though but possibly...animals.’
‘Animals? Seriously?’ Will shook his head. ‘I give up...’
In one single fluid movement Hugh swiftly turned, fell to his knee and swiped his quarterstaff at Will’s ankles, taking his legs from under him. Then he got back to his feet and kicked Will’s quarterstaff away, pointing his at Will’s chest.
‘You should.’ Hugh panted as he made a mock bow. ‘My thanks, old friend. It is always a pleasure to thrash you. Now, do you submit?’
Will grimaced as he rubbed his arm. ‘I allowed you to win, you know. I wanted you to look good in front of your lady wife.’
‘Of course you did.’
‘By the way, your arm is bleeding.’
Hugh shook his head dismissively as he helped Will to his feet and turned to face his wife.
Yes, he needed to woo her.
* * *
Eleanor’s breath hitched in her throat as she watched in secret admiration as Hugh strode towards her after his victorious sparring with Sir William.
She had on many occasions watched men train in combat with keen interest, secretly learning different techniques. The male form was hardly a
novelty, and held little surprise for her, and yet she had to admit that a thrill had run through her at the glorious spectacle of her husband and Sir William stripped to the waist and training with so much skill.
They had been evenly matched, both as strong and athletic as each other. But even so Eleanor had never, ever seen a man so well built and muscular as Hugh. A sheen of sweat glistened on the bulging golden muscles that rippled across his chest, his back...and, Lord above, his arms! Oh, but his arms were so...
‘Good morning to you, Eleanor.’
Hugh bowed and smiled that lop-sided smile that managed to send butterflies to her stomach.
‘Hugh.’ She nodded, her mouth suddenly very dry. ‘Congratulations, that was well fought.’
His grin deepened, revealing a dimple. Had she missed that? Yes, it was more than likely, since Eleanor hadn’t dared to look at him properly.
She glanced away, only to notice a trail of blood down his left arm. ‘That needs to be cleaned up.’
‘It’s nothing, really.’
Eleanor wanted to insist, but found it hard to get the words out. Really, there was so much of her husband on display she didn’t know where to look.
‘Your friend Sir William seems nice,’ she said.
‘Nice?’ Hugh laughed, raising his brows. ‘Gallant, chivalrous, courageous or even valiant are amongst Will’s favourite epithets.’ Hugh raised his voice so that Will would hear.
Eleanor smiled. ‘You seem close.’
‘He’s like an annoying younger brother but, yes we’re close. Both of us poor landless knights. Well, I mean that is until recently for me...’
Eleanor looked away, feeling a little embarrassed, and was relieved when Sir William finally caught up with them, fully clothed now and sketching a formal bow, breaking the awkward silence.
‘Good morrow, Lady Eleanor, how fine you look.’
Eleanor inclined her head. ‘And how finely you fought, Sir William.’
Will smiled graciously. ‘But, alas, not finely enough. However, gallant, chivalrous and courageous I may be I can never better Hugh. Your husband, my lady, is a legend amongst men.’
The Rebel Heiress and the Knight Page 6