The Rebel Heiress and the Knight

Home > Other > The Rebel Heiress and the Knight > Page 21
The Rebel Heiress and the Knight Page 21

by Melissa Oliver


  Hugh copied Eleanor and picked a leaf off a nearby shrub. ‘Yes, these are very difficult times.’

  She nodded. ‘With many honourable men on both sides in this bitter conflict.’

  And a terrible king who was at the centre of it...

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘I hope that the differences between King John and the Barons will soon be resolved,’ she said.

  ‘I do too. It would be good for the sake of the kingdom if matters were finally resolved and the country would come together again as one.’

  As it would be good if they could come together again... Ah, if only that was a possibility...

  Hugh ran his fingers through his hair. ‘However, that is not what I wish to talk about. Let me say again that I’m sorry I put you in that hostile situation with John.’

  She turned to face him. ‘But you didn’t, Hugh. The “hostile situation” that we both faced was because of the outlaws and the silver they stole from the King.’

  ‘At least you realise that.’

  ‘I’m not stupid.’

  ‘Oh, I know, my lady. But tell me something: would you have ever stopped your secret assignations with them? With the outlaws?’

  She shook her head slowly. ‘No, I don’t believe I would.’

  He regarded her for a moment with the ghost of a smile on his lips. ‘I’m glad, at least, of your honesty. And that’s what I believed too. Which confirms to me that one way or another, whatever your intentions, I would always have found out about you.’

  ‘If you know anything about me, Hugh, you’ll know that I, too, never do anything lightly.’

  ‘And neither do I, Eleanor.’ He sighed. ‘I have fought all my life for what this kingdom stands for...for our anointed King, for our liberty, and more importantly for the law of the land. Without those foundations holding the country together there will only be madness and chaos.’

  ‘But what if the root of that foundation is rotten?’

  ‘Then you mend it. Listen to me, Eleanor. Whilst I appreciate, now more than ever, the real hardships people face, there are other ways.’

  ‘How? Through careful negotiations? The law? Why, even now the Rebels are trying to compel John to sign this Great Charter, to keep him to his word, but he won’t do it.’

  Hugh exhaled through his teeth. ‘Can you not see what would happen if lines were drawn between King John and the Rebel Barons?’

  ‘They already have been.’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘This is just the beginning—the situation could get much, much worse. It could come to the country tearing itself up, brother against brother. We have to move to broker peace, rather than to full-scale combat. We do not need a hot-headed king and equally hot-headed reactionary behaviour from the Rebels. It would spell disaster for us all—and especially the ordinary people of this kingdom.’

  She rubbed her forehead, pondering on everything her husband had said. It was certainly a different view on a complicated situation which was far more volatile than she had believed. Its implications far wider.

  Hugh turned and folded his hands on either side of her shoulders. ‘Promise me something, Eleanor. Promise me that you will not be meeting with the outlaws. That you’ll stop.’

  ‘Hugh, I wasn’t going to.’

  ‘Look what happened in Winchester. And the King doesn’t even know about your involvement...for now. Next time I might not be there.’

  ‘I’ll manage.’

  ‘That is not enough. I don’t want you to just “manage”. We’ll talk on my return, but I want your word, Eleanor.’

  She met his eyes and saw the concern there. ‘Very well.’ She swallowed. ‘You have it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Hugh exhaled slowly. ‘Come, let’s get back to the others.’

  ‘Wait... Tell me, why didn’t you tell the King of my involvement?’

  ‘I could never do that,’ he said softly. ‘It is and always will be my duty to protect you.’

  ‘Despite what I have done?’

  ‘Despite everything,’ he murmured.

  Eleanor turned away, not meeting his eyes. ‘And you really must leave so soon?’

  ‘I must. The King demands it of me.’

  ‘I know, but is that...? Well, is that the only reason?’ Eleanor wasn’t sure what had possessed her to ask, nor whether she really wanted to know.

  He stopped and clasped her elbow. ‘You and I could do with some time apart,’ he muttered. ‘Who knows? It might be a good thing for both of us.’

  He was right. Mayhap they did need time apart. But how was she to make things right between them if he wasn’t there? Not that she knew how to...

  Eleanor realised with a heavy heart that nothing would ever be the same. Everything had changed irrevocably and they could never go back. It had always been going to end this way once Hugh found out about her involvement, had it not?

  They were on different sides and always would be. He would always believe the outlaws to be nothing more than criminals, whilst Eleanor knew that, despite breaking the law, they were a force for good. If only she could make Hugh understand that...

  But that was just futile. Everything else might have changed, but that never would.

  Chapter Twenty

  It had been over a month since Eleanor had arrived back home in Tallany and over a month since she had set eyes on Hugh. But it felt so much longer than that. Her husband had left immediately, once they had arrived back and ‘set everything to rights’, as he had called it. But everything had not been right...

  Since Hugh’s departure every disastrous misfortune had befallen her and her people. There had been much lawlessness in Tallany, with looting, thieving, as well as women, the elderly and the frail being accosted.

  The culpable group of men who had committed all the lawlessness dressed in a similar way to Eleanor’s outlaws, and even wore marks and hoods. Of course it wasn’t them. They were trying to pass their crimes off as those of the outlaws—not that anyone in Tallany believed it to be their work, although it had caused much confusion and chaos.

  The new steward and Hugh’s loyal men hadn’t been able to pin the crimes on the outlaws, but why was this happening? Why go to all the trouble of framing the outlaws when they were wanted men anyway?

  Eleanor didn’t know the reason for that, but couldn’t help but think that Lord Balvoire was behind all this and somehow involved. The man was so deplorable that he would certainly stoop this low. And she couldn’t help but remember that awful exchange in King John’s solar at Winchester, when he’d said that he would employ ‘the element of surprise’ to catch the outlaws. Was this what he had meant? That he would create havoc in Tallany?

  Again, she could not think how this would achieve the capture of the real outlaws—unless, of course, some of them came out of hiding to retaliate.

  She was once again in the inner bailey of the castle, pacing back and forth, waiting for news from Gilbert Claymore, who had gone to survey these new troubles that had been reported with Eustace Le Moyne, the new steward, and others.

  If only Hugh was here.

  Hugh...

  Her thoughts were never far from her husband, even after all this time, and even with all the problems that she had faced constantly since he’d been gone. She hadn’t heard a single thing from Hugh since he’d left and didn’t know when he would return. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep properly, and the truth was that she missed him desperately. Her life was unravelling fast before her eyes and she seemed unable to stop it.

  She lifted her head at the sound of hooves pounding on the cobbled ground as Gilbert Claymore entered the castle gate.

  ‘My Lady Eleanor!’ her old steward bellowed. ‘It’s worse than we imagined.’

  ‘What news, Gilbert?’ She could barely get the words out.

  ‘It’s Lord Bal
voire and he’s—he’s caught Anselm!’ he stammered.

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’s bringing him to be hanged here in Tallany!’

  Eleanor covered her face with her hands, digging her fingertips into her head. Not Balvoire again. The man had been plaguing her since Hugh’s departure and now this.

  She had to think and she had to think fast. She was damned if she was going to just stand by and watch her friend hang. There was one thing and one thing alone that she could do, but it was so outrageous, so dangerous, that the likelihood of success was minimal. It mattered not. She had to do it if it meant that she could somehow save Anselm.

  First, though, she would have to send secret messages expediently to her outlaw group.

  ‘Come, Gilbert, there’s much to do.’

  * * *

  Hugh had been travelling back from Scotland with Will and many of his men for over two weeks. It had been a fruitful and interesting month with King Alexander and if King John had any notions of future peace, he should broker a marriage between the Scottish King and his oldest daughter, once she was of age.

  For now, though, the English King had far too many problems in his own kingdom—not that he would get much assistance from the Scots, who preferred to remain neutral between John and the Rebels...for now.

  Hugh had been away from Tallany and Eleanor for a long time. It had been mainly out of choice, in the hope that time apart from his wife would allow him to get her out of his mind and loosen the hold she had over him.

  But it was useless. Everything at the Scottish court had reminded him of her. Every piece of music; every melody and lovelorn lyric had made him think of her... Her hair, the scent of her skin, the curve of her neck... But it was much more potent than that: he missed her...

  He missed her funny little quirks... The way she chewed the inside of her cheek when she was nervous or found something amusing. The way she wrinkled her nose when she was thinking. The absurd little things she said that made him laugh. The fact that she preferred to race him on horseback and get instruction in combat rather than stay in the bower and perfect her needlework. The impassioned way she spoke about things that mattered to her, even if she differed from his opinion. The fact that she cared about the plight of ordinary people...

  She always, always challenged him, with her quick wit and her indomitable spirit. Yet he could never win her loyalty and never have her trust. That belonged to others. To the outlaw and his men.

  If anything, the time they had spent apart had made him yearn for her all the more. Ah, but it was no good. His feelings for her were meaningless, complicated, and they had to be suppressed, however painful that would be.

  Hugh turned to Will, who had caught up with him on his dappled grey destrier, and nodded at him. ‘We’ve almost reached home,’ he said, as they reached the familiar valley that lay beyond the borders.

  How long had he been thinking of Tallany as ‘home’? It surprised him that he felt that way about the place.

  ‘Thank the Lord! You’ve been riding like the wind trying to get back—it’s been a damned effort keeping up with you.’

  ‘Just putting you through your paces, Will.’

  Even before they had reached the expanse of landscape Hugh knew there was something very, very wrong. He glanced at Will, who was suddenly alert and grave, all signs of levity gone, and then flicked his attention back to the scene before him. He noted the pockets of smoke dotted throughout the landscape. They must be the result of a fire. But what had happened here? And more importantly where was Eleanor? He hoped to God she was safe.

  Hugh nodded at Will and they bounded down the hill and eventually reached the outer edges of the small hamlet of Ulnaby, closest to the foot of the hill. Had they been attacked? And, if so, why hadn’t he been alerted? Or was this some sort of accident?

  He felt sick with anger and frustration as he rode into the midst of the hamlet and he gripped the hilt of his sword, taking in the burnt-out shells of what had once been dwellings and the carcasses of livestock.

  He could see a group of people huddled together in the hub of the hamlet as he cantered towards them. He recognised the old woman whom Eleanor had introduced to him many weeks ago, when she had been giving coin—no doubt stolen coin... It was Aedith, or some such name...

  The woman turned to face him as he and his men dismounted one by one and walked towards them.

  ‘It’s Aedith, isn’t it? What has been going on here?’

  ‘My lord, you’ve returned. How thankful we are to see you.’

  ‘What has happened?’

  ‘I don’t know. To be perfectly honest, it all started when you left these ’ere parts.’

  ‘All? What do you mean, “all”?’

  ‘Looting, thieving and everything in between, my lord.’

  Hugh swore an oath under his breath. ‘Tell me how we can be of use.’

  Her eyes widened with surprise. ‘Bless you, my lord. Anything you can spare. We ’ave children who are separated from their family. And many ’ere haven’t eaten for days.’

  Hugh nodded decisively. ‘We’ll give you the rest of our provisions: food, drink and blankets.’ He smiled grimly at her. ‘And I swear, as Lord of Tallany, that I will find out who did this here and bring them to justice. Your village will be rebuilt.’

  Tired and withdrawn, the old woman looked around the group, wordlessly communicating with them, and then nodded her head. ‘Verra well, my lord. Whatever you says.’

  ‘You have my promise, Aedith. Do you have any idea who did this?’

  ‘It were no one local, if that’s what you be thinking. And I don’t care what anyone says—it weren’t The Fox neither.’

  Hugh frowned. ‘If not them, then who?’

  No one spoke as they all looked from one person to the next.

  ‘Couldn’t say for sure, me lord,’ a young man said, looking away.

  ‘I can,’ Aedith said.

  The young man shook his head and cautioned her not to continue, but she took no heed.

  ‘I’m an old woman, so I don’t care what happens to me, and I will say what I needs to.’ She gave the young man a reproving look and flicked her eyes to Hugh. ‘I saw one of that Lord Balvoire’s men—he was involved with all this.’

  ‘That’s quite an accusation.’

  ‘I only knows what I knows... I saw ’im a few times in the village—fancy, too, with Lord Balvoire’s colours. He were sweet on our Agnes, you see, and I don’t forget a face. I recognised ’im again when they were doing their looting, pretending to be The Fox’s men.’

  Hugh clenched his jaw. ‘Thank you for telling me. And before any of you ask, I promise there won’t be any recriminations. You are all under my protection.’

  Hugh turned away and rubbed his chin. He could well believe the old woman’s assertion that Balvoire’s men were involved. The bastard was dangerous, capable of anything to feather his nest, and would grasp what he wanted at any cost.

  And what he wanted, since he had been unable to press his suit for Eleanor’s hand, was the huge piece of Tallany land that bordered his. Catching a few outlaws was only a means to an end for Balvoire, which was to be in King John’s favour.

  Needless to say, Hugh needed to tread carefully, as it seemed that every path led to a perilous quagmire that he could easily fall into.

  He looked again at the miserable faces of the people huddled together.

  ‘There is something more.’ He turned and fetched a small leather pouch from his saddlebag, returning to press it into her wrinkled hands. ‘I want you to give silver to everyone in recompense for their loss, Aedith. It’s all I can do for now.’

  The old woman stared in astonishment at the pouch of silver in her hands and then looked at Hugh and smiled. ‘I weren’t too sure ’bout yer, with your good looks and being a southerner. Didn’t know w
hether you were good enough for Lady Eleanor. But you’ll do. You’ll do verra well.’

  Hugh’s lips twitched. ‘I’m glad you approve.’

  ‘One more thing, me lord. There’s a rumour that the outlaw Anselm has been caught and is ready to be hanged at Tallany Castle.’

  Hugh exchanged a look with Will. ‘And do you know who caught the outlaw?’

  ‘I do. Lord Balvoire it was—’im again.’

  Indeed...him again.

  Hugh, followed by Will and his men, left Ulnaby, riding fast through the forest to reach Tallany Castle. His anger was mounting with every pound of the horse’s hooves. Damn Balvoire’s interference! But Hugh knew that John had given him the authority to be as much of a puffed-up, meddlesome ass as he chose to be.

  They reached the castle keep and came to a halt. Will and his men ushered their horses beside his, forming an impressive single unified line. The scene in front of him made Hugh gawp and curse aloud. He pushed forward, shaking his head, a muscle leaping in his jaw.

  There outside the castle wall was a temporary wooden canopied dais, where Edmund Balvoire was sitting with all his pomp and self-importance, surrounded by a handful of his men on either side, bearing his standard. To one side were the Tallany men, the new steward and the old, and many of the hearth knights Hugh had left behind.

  Hugh darted a look at the Tallany priest, Father Thomas, who had stepped out in front with four guards on either side of the prisoner—the outlaw Anselm. They all stopped, surprised at their arrival.

  ‘Would someone like to tell me what in God’s name is going on here?’ Hugh bellowed.

  Balvoire stood and extended his arms. ‘Ah, Lord Hugh. You are just in time to witness the execution of an outlaw—and not just anyone, but Le Renard’s right-hand man. The big outlaw Anselm.’

  Hugh glanced at the gallows, erected in his absence and surrounded by a crowd of villagers and local folk. And then he looked to the old steward. ‘Is everyone safe, Claymore, with these recent disasters that I have only just been informed of?’ he asked, before locking his eyes firmly on Balvoire’s.

 

‹ Prev