‘It would be my pleasure to have you come.’
‘Good. I think it is about time that I attend court, especially now that I am a married woman.’ She shrugged. ‘It would also afford me the opportunity to pay my respects at my family’s tomb at St Michael’s Chapel in Milnthorpe.’
‘Of course—and I would be happy for your company, Eleanor.’
‘Then it is settled? I can go and arrange everything with Brunhilde for the morrow?’ She arched her brows.
‘It is and you should,’ he said, grinning. ‘Go. Get yourself ready, my lady, and I shall see you in our solar later.’
She went on her tiptoes and kissed Hugh on the cheek. ‘Yes, but not until much, much later. I have much to do and I am also in need of Brunhilde’s tincture, so please do not wait up for me.’
‘Very well—but don’t be too late, Eleanor. If you send a message to me, I shall be happy to escort you back.’
‘Thank you, but there’s no need to worry about me. It’s not as though I am stepping outside of the village.’
‘I know, but it’s not a good idea for you to be out so late—not with dangerous outlaws on the prowl in the area.’
‘You have much to attend to, Hugh. I will ask Gilbert to escort me back to our solar. Would that suffice?’
‘It would.’ His lips tugged at the corners before he pressed them to her fingers again. ‘Until later, Eleanor,’ he said, and then continued on the dusty pathway in search of Will.
* * *
Eleanor stood and watched Hugh walk away before she felt she could breathe again. She put her fingers to her temple and rubbed it, feeling the tightening tensions accumulating there. She sighed, glancing back in the direction her husband had gone, and her shoulders sagged. She hated the fact that she had just lied to him, but there was no other choice.
She scurried away to one side of the inner bailey and waited underneath an arch until Gilbert emerged. He nodded and made a slight bow as she beckoned him over to her side.
‘My lady, I await your instruction. Everything is ready and we can take our leave immediately,’ the steward whispered.
‘Very good, Gilbert—and, yes, we must leave directly. I will go to Brunhilde’s chamber to change.’
‘Where shall I meet you, Lady Eleanor?’
‘Outside the entrance to the undercroft. It grows dark and there will be no one there at this time. Go in haste and please take care, Gilbert.’
‘I will, my lady. See you shortly.’
Eleanor watched her steward leave, then turned on her heel and strode towards the far corner of the wide circular inner bailey, her heart beating fast, reflecting on what she had to achieve this evening before embarking on the journey south with Hugh tomorrow.
She rushed into Brunhilde’s chamber in a disused private solar and set about getting ready. She was glad that she had been able to gift this chamber to her, and another to Gilbert, to show both of them how much they had meant to her when her family had perished. It was the least she could do for her old faithful friends, who had always been more like family to her than servants.
Brunhilde’s chamber was close to the kitchens and the entrance to the undercroft where she would soon meet Gilbert.
Taking off the garments of Lady Eleanor Tallany, she changed into the plain clothing of a castle servant, so that she could pass unnoticed from her maid’s solar to the arranged rendezvous with Gilbert. From there, they would continue outside the castle and beyond, to make the necessary arrangements with the outlaws before she left tomorrow. All this had to be done with breathtaking expediency, so that she would not be missed later by Hugh.
Ah, Hugh...
Her husband was seldom far from her thoughts. She loved spending time with him and, if she was honest with herself, couldn’t wait until the evenings, when they would be alone in the privacy of their solar; playing chess, sharing conversation, laughter and sensuous intimacies. These last few days and nights had been a blissful revelation to her.
She stared blankly at the hearth and warmed her hands near the flames. Yet the ominous words about trust and betrayal that Hugh had uttered on that first night of shared intimacy troubled her greatly. His words tumbled around her head constantly, making her even more determined that he should never find out about her involvement with the outlaws.
She couldn’t bear to think of the consequences—for him to think badly of her and, even worse, for him to believe that yet another woman had hurt him. She cared about him, and enjoyed all the vivid moments they shared. Her feelings had undergone a huge change. Not that she was in love with him...
Besides, Hugh didn’t believe in that.
Eleanor sighed as she pulled a plain grey tunic over her head. Not that she did either.
Brunhilde scuttled into the room, her kirtle rustling in the rushes of the floor, wringing her hands together.
‘Is everything well?’ Eleanor frowned.
‘Yes, my lady. Gilbert is ready and waiting for you. But I wanted to say that it’s not too late to change your mind about leaving the castle. It’s too dangerous to go and come back without getting caught. Please, Lady Eleanor, listen to my warnings.’
Eleanor grasped the older woman’s shoulder and rubbed it reassuringly. ‘I hear your concerns, but I have to make sure that everything is settled with the outlaws. I cannot have a situation similar to when the others were caught.’ She put her hand up to silence Brunhilde, knowing she had more to say. ‘At least Osbert and Godwin are still alive and treated fairly, thanks to Hugh. Come, help me with this cloak, Brunhilde. I must be away.’
Eleanor dragged on a long grey cloak and wrapped it around her as her old maid fiddled with the clasp at the front.
‘Very well—then I will just say that I think you are the bravest person I know, even though I fret over you,’ the old woman said, her eyes filling with tears.
‘Oh, Hildy, I will be fine. I promise.’
‘I will pray to the Blessed Mary to keep you safe.’ Brunhilde crossed herself and turned her rosary beads nervously.
Eleanor kissed her wet cheek and smiled softly. ‘Please don’t worry about me—besides, Gilbert will be with me. Now, don’t forget that if my husband should seek me here you must tell him that he has missed me. But I doubt you’ll need to.’
‘Yes, my lady, as you wish.’
Eleanor pulled the wide hood of the dark cloak over her head, so that once outside she’d be hard to recognise. ‘Good—now I really must be away. Wish me luck.’
‘You are, as always, in my prayers. Godspeed, my lady. I won’t be able to rest until I know you’re back safe and sound.’
Eleanor nodded, giving her hand a squeeze before turning around and walking out of the chamber.
It was going to be a long night, and she would need all the prayers she could get.
Chapter Eleven
Hugh had been aimlessly strolling around the inner bailey since taking his leave of Will, deep in thought about the coming days. It had grown dark as he had absently reached the furthest corner, and he was about to turn back when a movement caught his eye. It was perhaps an animal, or the rustling of leaves from the old oak tree just outside the castle wall. But, no... The patter of feet and the sound of swathes of material flapping in the breeze put him on guard.
A person...?
But who would be roaming this part of the castle at this hour?
His suspicions raised, he moved stealthily and quietly towards the shifting shape, trying to glimpse the figure without alarming it. It was probably nothing—some hapless drunk taking the wrong turn after leaving the tavern in the village keep—but it would be prudent to be certain.
With Le Renard, his outlaws, and the possibility of a traitor here within the Tallany Castle walls, he needed to be careful, and alert to any unusual behaviour. He had to make sure that Tallany and its environs were safe and
impenetrable.
There was no time to get Will’s aid, so he had no choice but to follow this person himself.
The figure, hidden within a dark cloak, stopped and looked behind its shoulder—and it was in that brief moment that the moonlight caught the side of her face.
Eleanor?
Hugh exhaled deeply, screwing his eyes shut, rubbing them before opening them again.
Eleanor?
No, he wasn’t certain that it was her. Why would it be his wife anyway?
He must follow this figure until he found some answers.
With a sinking feeling and his heart pounding in his chest, he surreptitiously followed, treading lightly, making sure the suspicious-looking person was unaware of him.
Hugh hid in the shadows cast under an archway as the figure reached the entrance to the undercroft, used by the cooks of the castle to keep supplies, and was met by another...
Gilbert Claymore, the Tallany steward!
The two figures slipped inside, as did Hugh, moments later. Making as little noise as possible, he followed them into the undercroft, ensuring a safe distance between them under the low-level arch. He watched as the cloaked figure pulled down its wide hood slowly, to reveal that he was correct after all...
It was Eleanor!
But why, for the love of God, why was she meeting Claymore in this secretive manner? Nothing made sense. She had said that the steward would escort her back to their solar, but this rendezvous didn’t seem to have anything to do with that. Hell’s teeth, what was she up to?
He had the urge to call out to her; ask what in God’s name was she doing, but something about the whole situation stopped him in his tracks. He needed to wait and watch.
Hugh strained his ears to hear what they were saying but could only hear muffled voices. He crept closer and crouched down, hiding behind an arch as suddenly Eleanor looked round.
‘What was that, Gilbert?’ she whispered, and she turned back to her steward, who slowly drew his sword from its scabbard and took tentative steps back the way they had entered, looking in every direction in the shadowy recesses of the large airy chamber. The older man walked slowly, but stopped short of the arch Hugh was crouched behind.
Gilbert looked back at Eleanor. ‘There is nothing here, my lady. Mayhap it was a mouse?’ He shrugged, striding back towards her.
‘Not again. I really wish Cook wouldn’t chase all the cats away.’ She smiled weakly and turned on her heel. ‘Come, we need to hurry, Gilbert. We must be away immediately.’
‘Aye, Lady Eleanor.’
They walked to the furthest stone wall. A huge old wooden coffer laden with neatly folded linen cloths and rounds of string leant against it. Eleanor and her steward faced each other and she nodded at him. Then Gilbert slid the wooden door of the coffer across, revealing an empty space large enough for no more than one person to stow themselves away inside.
‘After you, my lady.’
He beckoned as Eleanor took a deep breath, crouched low, and curled herself into the space. After a moment Gilbert followed his mistress and crammed himself inside the wooden furniture, sliding closed the door from the inside.
In disbelief at what he had just witnessed, Hugh scurried to the coffer and knelt low, his heart pounding fast, and carefully slid the wooden door open—to find that there was nothing inside.
It couldn’t be... He had watched his wife and the Tallany steward get inside, one after the other, and now they had disappeared into thin air.
The only way to find out what they were doing and where they were going was to continue to pursue them.
He imitated what he had dimly seen them do and crept inside the confined space, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did.
Where had Eleanor and Claymore gone?
He scrambled out again and felt inside with his fingers, trying in vain to peer into the dark recess—nothing.
Damn, damn, damn!
Swallowing down his frustration, he gritted his teeth and slid his hands over the back of the coffer. There—this time he felt it. A small gap between two of the wooden panels, so small that it had been easy to miss the first time he had felt his way around.
He carefully slipped his fingers in, but nothing shifted. Taking in a deep breath, he tried again. This time he slid one of the panels and it moved across, revealing a large hollow opening in the stone wall behind the coffer.
He crawled back inside, wedged himself uncomfortably into the enclosed space and closed the outer door so that he was plunged into complete darkness. Sending a silent prayer, he shuffled along so that he was pushing his body into the black void in the stone wall.
Hugh fell from a short height and landed with a thud on his side, onto wet, dank ground. He groaned, rubbing his head, and got up on his feet, blinking a few times. In the distance he saw a glimmer of light darting away and getting fainter and fainter.
Eleanor and Claymore!
He scrambled forward, quickening his pace to catch up with them. As he felt his way along the narrow passage, walled on either side with cragged, sharp slates, he guessed that he was in a maze of hidden interconnecting tunnels, separate from the main tunnels beneath the castle which he knew about—including the gaol. Which meant that these were secret ones.
Dear God!
The further he moved stealthily through the passage the more his heart sank. Whatever they were doing, or about to do, this didn’t bode well. It smacked of conspiratorial behaviour. But he had to be patient—had to give Eleanor the benefit of the doubt until he knew what in heaven was going on.
He eventually caught up with them, but kept enough distance to avoid revealing his presence. The winding tunnel dipped and turned in every direction, then became so extremely narrow that he could only squeeze through by shuffling along on his side. The sharp slates on either side dug into him.
Where the hell were they going?
Suddenly, the passage opened out and they came to an abrupt halt.
Claymore knelt down and pushed his hand into a large crevice in the wall, which made a few large slates slide out. The steward then pulled something that Hugh couldn’t quite see that was within the wall, which revealed a large hidden trap door, whipping open in the cold night air.
Incredible! If Hugh hadn’t been feeling as apprehensive and tense as he was, he might have appreciated the ingenuity of a secret trap door hidden so cleverly.
He continued to watch as Eleanor and the steward crouched down and crawled through the opening and into another space beyond.
Hugh waited a moment before he followed them with caution. He too crouched down, and took in a deep breath before sneaking a furtive look and finding that the space they had entered was actually outside. The steward was opening what appeared to be a rusty iron gate, covered in moss. Once he had achieved this, they were outside in the middle of god knows where!
Hugh followed them in the shadows, making sure he was well hidden, and watched in amazement. Eleanor and Claymore were now walking through the damp woodlands far from Tallany. Remarkably, the secret tunnels underneath the castle, which had seemed so endless, had bypassed the castle, the moat and even the village keep! They were now at the edge of nowhere, deep in the woodland.
Having an ominous feeling about what he was about to discover, Hugh continued trailing his wife and the steward.
After a long time in pursuit of them, weaving around ancient trees casting shadows in the clearings, Hugh watched as they reached what appeared to be a single dilapidated wooden hut. He waited in heightened anticipation to find out what they were to do next.
He hid behind a boulder that sloped above them, with the moonlight offering the only glimmer of visibility in an otherwise dark night. He peered over it and watched as Eleanor entered the small building alone, whilst Claymore stood outside, evidently on the lookout.
Hugh r
ubbed his eyes, trying hard not to look away in case he missed something. What was she doing and who was she meeting? Lord, but it was killing him, waiting to find out.
He wiped away the beads of sweat collated on his brow, his heart pounding ferociously as he waited, uneasiness mounting.
Damn and blast, Eleanor! What have you got yourself into?
He couldn’t move closer to the hut in case Claymore spotted him, and it was imperative for Hugh that he was not to be discovered. He had to know the truth of Eleanor’s strange behaviour tonight, however much he dreaded it, and the only way was to remain in hiding.
At last heard the door of the hut creak open and footsteps on the beaten path. Eleanor...? But, no, the silhouette that had come to meet Claymore was that of a man—or rather a boy.
And not just any boy.
The moonlight shed enough light for Hugh to make him out.
It was Le Renard—the outlaw who had outwitted him only just a few days ago, in his signature mask and fur-trimmed hood!
Chapter Twelve
Hugh felt as though someone had punched the air out of him. How was this possible? How?
He ground his teeth together and clenched his fists, his knuckles white. He just couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe what he had discovered on this terrible evening. But there was no mistaking it.
Eleanor and Le Renard...
It made his blood boil, just thinking about the implications of this night. All this time his wife had evidently been scheming with the outlaw. His wife! He felt like hitting something—or better still someone. The whole thing seemed unbelievable.
Hugh narrowed his gaze at the two figures, Claymore and The Fox, striding together. The steward mounted a horse that had been tethered somewhere, hidden from visibility, and waited for Le Renard, with his own horse, and then they galloped off, deep into the woods.
Hugh knew he should give the pair of traitors chase and find out where the outlaws were hiding. But he couldn’t move—couldn’t think beyond Eleanor’s treachery. He let Le Renard and Claymore go—not that he had the means to follow them anyway.
The Rebel Heiress and the Knight Page 14