"The French are close to breaking."
"And what happens when they break?"
"Edward takes the throne and England and France are united."
"Will the fighting stop?"
"Yes. The fighting will end, and the lands will be divided amongst those loyal to the king."
"You will receive some."
"Yes, I will likely receive a portion. They want English lords here to ensure that peace ensues."
"When have English lords ever known peace?"
Hugo chuckled, but he grew serious. "A united realm would make us too strong to invade, ensuring peace ever-lasting."
"A great deal of violence to attain peace."
"Peace is always paid for in blood."
Eloise sighed, not doubting his words. She'd been all over the world and fighting was endemic everywhere. People lived in fear of conquering hordes, invading armies or internal revolts. England was certainly no different. There was nowhere safe in the world. Perhaps Hugo was right in that being too strong to subdue would keep them safe. She just wasn't sure they could maintain it even if the king managed to unify the realms, as peace wasn't always the goal for some. There was profit in war and that was valued above peace for many. Even Hugo's position and status was a reflection of his usefulness in war.
They rode for days, staying in inns, in separate rooms now. The closeness they had been forced into was melting away. They were no longer two strangers in foreign lands, with only each other to depend on; they were now knight and an unmarried noblewoman. Propriety was reasserting itself and it was changing Hugo's behavior. He even purchased her a separate horse, a white mare with a calm nature.
The signs of war stopped as they rode into Gascony's territory, which had always been English. Fields were lush and villages were well-kept and orderly. They rode past large estates, which Eloise knew produced much of England's grain crop.
She wasn't sure she could imagine Hugo as the lord of one of these large estates, tending land. He would have a family, an heir, and he might even be happy. Right now, Hugo and happiness didn't seem to fit together. "Would you stay in France?" she asked.
"Probably."
"What of your lands in England?"
"I would have to manage both."
"Or you need two sons."
"Perhaps."
Eloise saw a city in the distance. "Are we going there?"
"The city of Auch, yes. Prince Edward is there at the moment."
Eloise rode in silence as they approached, watching as the stone buildings grew closer. She could see church spires and towers, staired terraces and large, old trees. "Have you been here before?"
"Yes, some years ago. Calais more recently."
Her discomfort grew as they rode in through the guarded gates. Auch was lively—full of both people and soldiers. Hugo rode them toward a castle and handed their horses off to servants. "Come," he said and she noted that he was excited to be here, back amongst his people. "You can rest here."
"When are we leaving?"
"I don't know."
This was a change as Hugo normally sought to travel on at the earliest opportunity. "I don't want to stay here," she said.
"It's only until I sort passage back," he said, striding up the stairs to the main entrance of the castle. "You have nothing to fear here."
She hadn't exactly feared for her safety; it was more the people that made her wary. These were noblemen—her father's peers. Hugo's peers, too, but Eloise had made a point of being as far away from these people as she could.
Eloise was shown to a bedroom of her own, attended by women servants, who poured a bath for her. Even the hot bath was unable to undo the knots in her shoulders. The Englishness of this society sat uncomfortably as she was treated with reverence.
Attempts had been made to clean her dress during her bath and after drying off, she sat in her sumptuously appointed bedroom until it was time to dine.
Hugo waited for her at the entrance of the main hall, clean and shaven. He even had new clothes, probably purchased from one of the tailors in the city. "We will be traveling tomorrow," he said, "but unfortunately on one of the naval ships. No other space can be spared as everyone is traveling back to England."
"Really? Everyone?"
"The king has called a tournament and everyone of import is attending. The prince left on the evening tide. Knights will be attending from across Europe, so everyone has safe passage right now."
Safe passage was a benefit and it would serve her when she left as well. In times of war, passage over the seas could be troublesome. "Will you be attending?"
"I am a knight."
Hugo placed her down at one of the long tables, introducing her to Lord Tullerworth and his wife, seating himself further down the table. Eloise knew he had to abide by the laws of propriety to preserve her virtue in the eyes of others, placing her next to a respectable lady for the same reason. Hugo was taking steps to secure her virtue when he knew well enough that the important portion of it had already been given away—a fact she suspected he would keep from her father as well. Again, she might not be entirely compliant with his plans.
Eloise smiled as Lady Tullerworth introduced herself and inquired who she was. Eloise tried to make conversation, but her heart wasn't in it. At times her eyes would wander to Hugo, who sat with people he seemingly knew, and his eyes would meet hers every once in a while.
Wine flowed generously and the crowd in the Great Hall was growing boisterous. Less respectable women had started encroaching on the evening as well. This was the life Hugo was used to—fighting during the days, then burning the anxiety and pressure in the Great Hall at night. For some reason, Eloise grew angry with him, particularly for the fact that she was there at all. She didn't want to be there, see knights drinking and whoring. Lady Tullerworth rose. "Perhaps it is time for us to go, my dear," she said. Eloise didn't mind, since she wasn't inclined to stay and witness the entertainment.
The castle had grown cold and one of the servants had started a fire in her room’s grate. Eloise felt trapped in the room with a rich, green carpet and a mahogany bed. Once more, she knew she did not want to live in English society. Hugo belonged here and during their travels, she had forgotten some of the things she hated about him. Right now he was probably rewarding himself for his efforts and tribulations, spending his ardor in some willing wench. Obviously, she was not jealous, just disgusted by his behaviour—by the behavior of the entire English nobility.
Chapter 22:
* * *
They rode on from Auch to the coast with a group of nobles heading back to Windsor for the upcoming tournament. Eloise rode slightly behind, still feeling out of sorts. She didn't like these people, although admittedly, everyone was very cordial to her. Even Lord and Lady Tullerworth were there, going as spectators to the festivities.
Perhaps that was the problem with these people, they celebrated with violence. But what sat really awkwardly was that these were officially her people. This was where she was supposed to be—jumping to attention when the king called, ansorbed in their snobbery and superiority, assured of their position in the world in relation to other men.
And then there was Hugo, returned into the fold of his kinsmen. He was respected here—men looked up to him, included him in their discussions and listened to his opinions. A whole other side to him revealed itself. She had known him when all this was stripped away. Now it felt like he was obscuring behind all the trappings of his position and occupation. But this was the same man who had rescued her from pirates and held her so tenderly, and the same man who had made her body soar with unknown passion when swayed by the potion of the lotus flower. She struggled to fit all these pieces together—along with the merciless boy she'd known. How could all these things fit together?
"You're falling behind," Hugo said, having snuck up on her again, sitting on his large gelding, leaning on the pommel. Looking up, she noticed that she actually was falling behind. "What has you so deep
in contemplation?"
"Nothing," she said defensively and Hugo raised an eyebrow. "I was just considering the next few weeks. They are likely to be wrought."
Hugo didn't argue, which she appreciated. At least he understood her position in relation to her father. "You must rid yourself of your anger toward him."
"Something that will never happen."
"Perhaps he has missed you all these years."
"He didn't know me from the next girl. If he missed me so much, he shouldn't have thrown me away as though I was below consideration. He certainly shouldn't have robbed me of my mother."
"So we shouldn't expect a loving reunion, then?"
"I would have thought you'd know me better by now."
Hugo chuckled. "I know you're alone and that's not a nice place to be."
"I have friends."
"But friends are not family."
"Then you're alone too, Hugo."
"I am." With a nod, he rode ahead, leaving her to her own thoughts as she watched his straight back, used to being in a saddle. She never quite realized that Hugo admitted he was alone in the world. He'd seemed so intent on forbidding everything from affecting him—even as he admitted that he'd never had time to grow to care for his wife and son. Eloise supposed it was worse to have a family and let them slip away unnoticed. Maybe one deserved to be alone then, she thought, but changed her mind. She didn't want Hugo to suffer. Perhaps she was growing up a bit. She wouldn't go so far as to extend the curtesy to her father, who she had determinedly walked away from when she was little more than a child. Her father definitely deserved to lose his family, and she hadn't changed her mind on that fact.
Their ship waited for them at Mimizan, tall and wooden, one solid mast in the middle and towers at the front and end. This was a fighting ship, she realized. The platforms elevating archers, she guessed. She wasn't an expert on fighting.
The available cabins were taken by others and Eloise and Hugo had to find a place in the very front of the ship, in the bow. It had thick wooden beams that forced the shape of the ship and there was just enough room for two of them between the beams.
"So the last leg of this mad voyage," Hugo said as he sat down, leaning against the curved side of the ship.
"It has certainly been an adventure," she said, tucking her legs under her and turning slightly toward him in the dark space. "So now you return to fight in this tournament. Then what? Will you sail back the day after?"
"I might get a month to see to my estate."
"So we will part. It is strange to think. We have been each other's sole companion for so long now."
"Technically, you were my hostage."
"If I didn't at some point agree to come, I would have slipped away long ago."
Again Hugo didn't argue with her, which surprised her. She would have expected a more arrogant denial of her ability to deceive him. "You wish to confront your father."
"I think it's time that I do. I feel like I am done with the wounds of my past and need to lay them to rest."
"But not your animosity toward him?"
"No. I will say my peace and never think of him again."
"You would also be saying good-bye to who you are."
"An identity I'm not sure could fit now even if I wanted it to."
The ship left port, but they could see little in their enclosed space at the bow of the ship, which was dark no matter what the time.
Sailing like this was dull as there was nothing to do, nothing to see. Before long, Eloise felt her eyelids grow heavy. "Sleep," Hugo told her, patting his shoulder.
Eloise didn't argue and lay her head down where he indicated, drawing in the scent of him—a scent she'd started finding comforting. She still liked when he watched over her as she slept—her own private knight, protecting her from all dangers.
She woke feeling warm, but registered movement. For a moment she had no idea where she was, but knew Hugo was beside her, asleep. They'd somehow moved down the curve of the ship bow slightly and she was now resting her head on his chest with his arm around her. Her knee had crept over his, too. The length of his body was against hers.
Lifting her head up, she studied the skin of his neck, the strong jaw and the perfect, soft lips—lips she'd kissed. Actually there was no part of his body she hadn't shared. Heat flared up her belly and she continued to watch him, but also noted the pressure on the bow from the water and wind outside, making the ship sway. The seas were rough.
Hugo's breathing changed under her hand on his chest. He was waking and Eloise felt a rush of anticipation—for what she didn't know. His eyes opened and he turned his head toward her, just watching her for a moment, his eyes dark pools before turning to look around them, similarly confused of their surroundings as her when she woke.
"The seas are rough," she said.
"With any luck there won't be a storm."
Eloise looked around, hoping the ship was sturdy enough to weather a storm because she had a suspicion they were about to be caught in one. "Can you imagine coming all this way to die on the way to England?"
"Don't speak such."
"You fear words?"
"I wouldn't wish to tempt fate in this instance."
"I never took you as superstitious," she said with a teasing smile, pinching him slightly through his clothes when he stilled her hand by pressing it down. Her knee was still resting on his and they both grew aware of their nearness, exponentially increasing the awkwardness between them. Eloise pulled her leg away, sitting up to wrap her arms around her knees, and Hugo sat up as well.
"I'll go see if I can find us something to eat."
Eloise nodded and watched as he rose, moving awkwardly into the back of the ship, which moved sharply and unpredictably under his feet. She felt his absence as he disappeared down a partition dissecting the inside of the hull.
It was hard for her to consider that they would be nothing to each other when they reached England. He would deliver her as required, then withdraw to his new duties—or participate in this tournament. As for herself, she had no idea what the near future entailed. Her father could lock her away in a convent for all she knew, or even a prison, although technically he didn't have the right to.
It took fifteen minutes for Hugo to return with bread, cheese and ham, wrapped in a muslin cloth. "There is a storm," he said, "and apparently it is too large to sail around. They say we must prepare for a rough few hours."
"Again, Hugo, if I die on this journey, I will haunt you forever."
Hugo smiled. "I would expect nothing less. Although if you perish in this storm, the chances are high that I will, too."
"I don't care. I will find you and haunt you."
Watching him, Eloise ate some bread and leaned back on the side of the ship, wondering how he felt about finishing this journey. Something fell onto the deck above them, drawing her out of her thoughts. She did feel better with him there, even if there was precious little he could do to combat a storm. She felt safe with him, even if feeling unsafe was not an issue that had greatly bothered her in the past.
Chapter 23:
* * *
The ship rocked heavily and water washed in somewhere further down the ship, but it was sturdy and seemingly handling the storm sufficiently well. So far, the water hadn't reached where they were sitting. Eloise sat with her knees up, tucked under his arm, looking pale even in the darkness of the hull. They were more stable together through the rocking of the ship, so they embraced, seeking strength and comfort from each other.
Hugo had taken his mail off, in case they needed to tackle water—its weight serving no useful purpose now. He'd lain it over the nearby beam along with his surcoat.
"If my father locks me away to be forgotten somewhere, will you rescue me?"
"He won't."
"You cannot promise me that. Who knows what hatred he carries for me?"
"He would not have called you back after such a stretch of time if he didn't want to see you."
"Or something from me, which I am not prepared to give him. He has done enough damage; I don't want to sacrifice the rest of my life to his ruthlessness."
"If he locks you away, I promise I will release you. It won't come to that. That I can promise you."
Eloise snuggled closer into him as a wave crashed on the bow above them. This was the second storm they'd encountered on this journey. It couldn't storm when they were safely enclosed in a stone structure; it had to be when they were exposed and vulnerable. "We'll be fine," he said in an attempt to reassure.
Leaning his head back on the hull, he sighed. They could not sit like this if anyone saw them—it would be inappropriate. Yet right now, he didn't want to change it. This journey wasn't over just yet, but it would be soon and he suspected that he would miss her.
Her hand stroked across his stomach. This really was inappropriate—he knew that. They were much too close, but he couldn't push her away when she was fearful—for their current circumstances, as well as what she was about to face when they arrived. Although he was fairly sure she could face anything when it came down to it. He'd seen her pride and her gumption, but for some reason, she let him see her vulnerability.
Her eyes sparkled in the pale light from a swinging lamp as she turned her head up to him. He couldn't see what was on her mind, but something was. Her focus moved to his lips and he knew he was in for trouble. She wanted a kiss and he felt his gut clench with driving tension, maybe even elation.
He was unable to stop her as she reached up to him, closing his eyes as their lips made contact, the pleasure of it reverberating through his mind and body. It wasn't a chaste kiss—it deepened and he drew in the warm, moist sweetness of her mouth like a condemned man.
His lungs strived for air when they broke apart and his lips ached for more. Part of him hoped it would end there, but another part wished more than anything for the kiss to continue. After this final voyage, he would never get to sit like this with her again. She would withdraw into the confines of propriety, at arm’s-length if not more, untouchable and remote.
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