The Winter Love

by April Munday

  Henry made no reply and turned to go below deck, then he remembered what he had to say to Edward. “Sister Margaret is not one of your women. She’s an innocent and I want her to be that way when I return her to her convent.”

  Edward affected to be shocked. “She says she’s a nun; she’s safe.”

  “Promise me, Edward, or I’ll break your legs.”

  “You won’t be able to do that once we’re at sea.” Edward’s face took on the sulky expression that he knew annoyed his brother.

  Henry took a step towards his brother. “We’re not at sea yet and we won’t always be at sea.”

  Edward nodded. “I promise.” He thought for a moment. “How long does my promise have to last?” His face became sly.

  “Until I can get her back to the convent.”

  “She won’t be such an innocent then.”

  “If she’s not, you’re a dead man.” Henry did not notice that his hand was on the pommel of his sword, but his brother did. Edward took a step back and tried not to look as if he were readying himself to fight back.

  “Because she’s the sister of your brother-in-arms? That is who she is, isn’t it? She had better not be some waif you picked up.”

  Henry ignored the sneer in Edward’s voice. “Because she’s a young woman whose only protector just died.”

  “You want me to be her protector?” Edward seemed almost smitten by the idea of being a woman’s protector. He grinned.

  “Only while we’re at sea. She doesn’t know, by the way, about Philip.”

  “You’ve told her nothing? Why did you bring her?”

  “There were some men at the convent. They were armed and they were after her. One of them was the man who killed Philip.”

  “What did they want?”

  “I didn’t stop to ask them.”

  “Very well. While she is on board my ship I’m her protector.”

  Henry had to be satisfied with that. “She will be back in her habit, before we sail,” he said, as he turned to face a bigger challenge than what he should do with Eleanor.

  When she had settled Solomon in his very makeshift stable Eleanor asked Dan to take her to Henry. She carried the saddle roll with her, hoping that she would soon be able to change into her own clothes, since they were no longer avoiding the men who had invaded the convent.

  Henry was in his brother’s cabin and he moved outside to wait while she changed. When she had finished he was still outside the door.

  “I shall lie there,” he said, indicating the bed, but making no move into the tiny space. “I can do nothing more for you on this journey, but Edward has promised to look after you.” He stepped into the room, then turned back, “But do not trust him.”

  Eleanor’s heart sank. She barely trusted Henry and he was leaving her in the care of someone he did not trust. A sigh was not far from her lips, but she held it back. Nodding, she said, “Very well. Should I stay with you?”

  “No, you will probably feel better if you stay on deck.”

  “Do not worry about me. I think I’m going to enjoy sailing.” Eleanor grinned. Everything she had so far discovered about the ship was pleasing. There were no familiar smells so she was trying to discover which object went with which smell. Dan had laughed at her as she had sniffed everything they passed. The ship moved slightly beneath her feet, but she had become used to its motion already. The very air itself felt different.

  In her own clothes once more, Eleanor now found it much more difficult to walk around the small ship. The crew stepped aside respectfully when she came across them and she constantly asked them what they were doing. Surprised by her interest, they told her. Her curiosity was insatiable and each new wonder was stored away in her memory to be taken out later and examined and understood. Some of what they told her made sense, most of it was incomprehensible. Henry would not be able to help her to understand this world, so she would have to make sense of it herself. She noticed that all the men wore beards and they all smelled as bad as Henry. From the motion of the ship she worked out that they would probably cut their throats if they tried to shave, but she could find no reason why they might not wash. She gave free rein to her curiosity until she realised that she was keeping the men from their work, then she stopped asking questions and found her way back to Solomon, watching everything as she passed and putting her new found knowledge to the test. The horse seemed comfortable enough, but she sat and talked to him for a few minutes. By the time she was back on deck they were under way. The motion of the ship had changed, but it was still gentle and she could see the land receding slowly. She felt a moment of the same fear she had felt when she had first sat on Solomon’s back; she was trapped on something out of her control. There was no way back to the land that did not involve the ship turning round and taking her there.

  “Do you know where everything is now, Sister Margaret?” She turned round to see Edward looking at her waiting for an answer.

  “Yes, thank you. Is Henry alright?”

  “He’s a very poor sailor.” Edward spat on the deck. Eleanor was slightly shocked by this lack of respect for his older brother.

  “He told me.”

  “Are you uncomfortable?”

  “No, I’m quite enjoying it. Perhaps I should not.” Eleanor looked out across the surface of the water where the wind was blowing up small waves that were getting larger even as she watched.

  “It’s as well that you do. It’s not a long voyage, but I can’t look after you as well as Henry.”

  Eleanor was silent for a moment. She ought to go and sit with Henry and make sure that he was not suffering, but she was enjoying herself too much. “Do you often have women on board?

  “Never. Why would I? They are neither merchants nor soldiers and those are the only kind of passengers that I carry.”

  “I was thinking about a wife.”

  “I don’t have a wife.” Edward grinned. “And if I had, I would not expect her to sail with me.”

  “Even if she wanted to?”

  “Even then. My wife must stay at home and look after my business when I am away.”

  Eleanor nodded; this was sensible. “Then she will be lonely.”

  “All wives are lonely.”

  “I’m glad I shall not be a wife. I’m never lonely at the convent.” It was pleasant enough standing on the deck talking to Edward, but she did not feel as comfortable talking to him as she did with Henry. Despite herself, she remembered Henry’s warning not to trust his brother, but in what way his untrustworthiness would manifest itself she did not know, for Henry had not told her. “Now, I shall go and look after Henry,” she said decisively.

  “Are you sure that you want to? He is not a sweet-tempered patient. Nor a clean one.”

  “I do not mind him being ill-tempered.” She did not often work in the infirmary in the convent, but some of the sisters seemed to forget their vocation when they were confined to beds there. Sickness and pain had immense power over even the sweetest of tempers.

  “Then I shall take you to him.”

  Edward did not look very pleased about this, but Eleanor thought that despite all he said to the contrary, he enjoyed having a woman on board.

  Edward’s cabin was small and dark and mostly filled by the narrow bed and a large trunk. Edward lit a candle and gave it to her. Eleanor squeezed herself onto the bottom of the bed. As thin as he was, Henry was almost as wide as the bed. He was very pale. “Can I get anything for you?”

  “No, just let me die.”

  Eleanor turned anxiously to Edward, who shook his head. “He’s not going to die.”

  “You’re not going to die,” she told Henry softly and took hold of his hand. It was cold and clammy and she had a moment of doubt.

  “No one dies of sea sickness,” said Edward. “You only hope that you’re going to die.”

  “Let me be,” mumbled Henry and Edward left. Eleanor stayed. When Henry was sick she held the bowl for him and cleaned him afterwards. Then she
had to go on deck for a moment to get the smell out of her nose and that was where Edward found her and gave her some food.

  “Why is Henry so ill?” she asked as she ate.

  “He has never been a good sailor. We learnt as children and I always wanted to spend my life sailing from port to port. Henry tried, but as the boats got bigger he got sicker.”

  “Henry didn’t always want to be a sailor like you?”

  “He never wanted to be a sailor. He wanted to be a monk, but he’s the second son and these are dangerous times. My parents thought that there was a chance that our older brother might not survive to inherit.” Eleanor thought that Edward had been going to say something else, but whatever it was remained unsaid.

  “But there was you, you would inherit if Henry were in a monastery.”

  “There might have been some disagreement with the church about the inheritance.” Edward’s comment was dry, but Eleanor heard the barely concealed criticism.

  The food was not as good as she had had these last two days, but the fish had been fresh and cooked by someone who knew what he was doing. She finished it quickly.

  “Are you going back to my brother?”

  She nodded.

  “I shall send you some wine.”

  “Thank you.” Eleanor smiled at him. Although unused to wine, she appreciated the taste and thought it might do Henry some good.

  Henry was asleep when she entered the small room. Eleanor put her hand on his forehead and he woke up. “Are you still well?” he asked anxiously.

  “Yes, very. I’m quite enjoying myself. Sailing is very exciting.” Henry groaned. “Your brother is sending wine and I think you should have some.”

  “Very well. If you look after your horses as well as you look after me they must be very long-lived.”

  Eleanor smiled. “They are.”

  A sailor brought the jug of wine and Eleanor made Henry drink some first. Some colour appeared in his face and he fell asleep again. Eleanor drank a glass herself, then yawned. They had set out early this morning and she was tired. No one had told her where she should sleep and she didn’t want to leave Henry alone, so she fitted herself into the tiny space that was left on the bed next to him and fell quickly asleep.

  Henry was not surprised to wake up to find that someone was sharing his bed; that was common enough for soldiers. What surprised him was that he seemed to be sharing his bed with a woman. Eleanor! He groaned quietly. Edward must have forgotten to show her where to sleep and she had chosen to sleep with him. In his sleep he had moved to accommodate her and his body was wrapped round hers. At least he had not pushed her off the bed, but she could not wake up to know that he held her.

  He shifted his attention from Eleanor to the ship and realised that they were not making way; they must be in a port. That meant he would be able to get up and move around without being ill. If he could do that without disturbing her, Eleanor need never know what he had done.

  Gently he pulled away the arm that supported Eleanor’s head and she raised her head. She was awake!

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “I’ve been awake for a while. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  Eleanor seemed not to be the least bit worried that he held her.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she continued, “that I got into your bed. I didn’t know what else to do and there wasn’t enough room on the floor.”

  Henry supposed that practicality had won over modesty. “Are you comfortable?” he asked her.

  “Very,” she said, “and warm.”

  Acknowledging to himself that it would be a while before he could stand and move around, even though the ship was no longer moving, Henry moved his arm so that it supported her head once more. “Then we shall stay as we are. Go back to sleep.”

  Henry suited his actions to his words, but Eleanor stayed awake for a while. She was comfortable and warm; she had not lied to Henry. When she had got into his bed with him she had realised that he was the only familiar thing on this ship, apart from Solomon, and she had not wanted to be separated from him. Edward had been welcoming, but she sensed that he was dangerous in a way that Henry was not. As for the other men on the ship, she supposed they must be trustworthy, but it was only Henry who had shown that he was willing and able to look after her, so she had relied on that.

  Still awake when he had stirred and wrapped himself around her, she had felt that the gesture was both protective and possessive. She had felt adrift since she had left the convent; now she felt an unexpected sense of belonging. It was a pleasant feeling, even though she had reminded herself that Henry was her abductor.

  It was still dark when Eleanor awoke again, although she was sure that it was morning. The ship was under way, violently so and Henry was moaning. She got off the bed and straightened her clothes. The motion of the ship made her feel slightly queasy, but she refused to let it worry her; she had to look after Henry and could not be ill herself.

  “Sister Margaret?” Someone was tapping the outside of the door. Eleanor was grateful that he had not come while she was in the bed with Henry, then realised that she could not know that he had not.

  “Hello. Come in.” A young boy she had not seen before came into the room and gave her a bowl and a clay beaker. Eleanor did not like the way the food smelt, but she ate it anyway. It tasted as bad as it smelt, but she expressed her gratitude to the boy and kept hold of the beaker. She felt more than queasy now, but she concentrated on ignoring it and examined the beaker. It contained more of the good wine that she had drunk last night. She glanced at Henry, but decided it was not worth waking him. Sleeping would do him more good than the wine.

  After she had finished the wine, she felt better and decided to go out on deck. At first she was unsteady and almost lost her footing. The motion of the ship was irregular. Yesterday she had been able to suit her movement to the rhythm of the ship. Now she was jerked up and down as she tried to get to the deck. For a moment she wished that she still wore Henry’s clothes, as her habit got in her way and threatened to trip her at every step. The noises were different as well. There was the irregular sound of wood grinding against wood. What did it mean?

  “Where are you going?” asked Edward angrily when she stepped out onto the deck.

  “I was coming up to breathe some air that doesn’t smell of a sick man.”

  “You’ll come no further, it’s dangerous.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re sailing through a storm.”

  “Why, if it’s so dangerous?”

  “Because we wasted five days while Henry was in search of you.”

  Eleanor was unbowed. “That’s hardly my fault.” Although she admitted to herself that she had delayed his return.

  “We have to make up the time, regardless of whose fault it is,” said Edward calmly. “And you can’t come up here, because Henry wouldn’t thank me if you went overboard.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  “Surely you can feel it!”

  “I can feel that it’s worse than yesterday.”

  “And you still aren’t sick?” Edward’s face showed that this was a miracle of some kind.

  “No. I feel very well.” Eleanor did not mention that her stomach still protested against the poor food she had eaten, but she knew that it was the food, rather than the motion of the ship.

  “Perhaps you sailed as a child?”

  “I never saw the sea before yesterday.”

  “You won’t see much of it today.” Edward helped her through the narrow doorway and held onto her while she looked out across the deck. The sky was almost as black as night and heavy rain was falling onto the deck. Edward was right; she could barely see beyond the end of the deck. How did the helmsman know where they were going? For the first time she felt a small shiver of fear.

  “Feel sick now?”

  “No.” There was a flash of lightening, which seemed to burn the entire sky, then thunder crashed so hard that sh
e thought she would be deafened. Even in her shock at the noise, she smiled broadly. “It’s magnificent.”

  Edward laughed. “If you were my wife, I would always bring you to sea.”

  “If I were your wife I would make you stay at home and I would take your ship to sea.”

  Edward swung her round into his arms and kissed her hard on her lips. Eleanor pushed him away, angrily.

  “Fear not, Sister Margaret, I promised my brother I would not tempt you. I just wanted to know what a nun tastes like.”

  Eleanor wanted to smack the smile from his face, but sensed that it would have an effect opposite to the one she desired. Instead she turned and went back down to Henry, thereby achieving Edward’s second aim.

  Eleanor passed her day in prayer and meditation. She thought about Edward’s kiss and what it might mean. Henry had warned her to take care with Edward and her own sense told her that she was not comfortable with him for a reason. It was becoming clearer to her why Henry had warned her.

  Apart from discussions with Mother Abbess and nuns who had joined the convent later in life, she knew nothing about men and had certainly never been kissed by one. It had not been unpleasant. On the contrary, Eleanor felt that, given time and practice she might find it a very pleasant experience indeed, which was probably why nuns were kept apart. That must be why Henry had warned her about his brother. It was only when she found herself wondering what it would be like to be kissed by Henry that she knew that her thoughts had wandered too far. Too wise to pray to be spared the distraction, she set herself to meditation on a Psalm that declared God to be the master of the raging winds.

  By the time she had brought her imagination under control the storm had died down and she went to check on Solomon, which calmed him immensely, although he seemed to be enduring the voyage much better than his master.

  Henry again refused to eat while they were laid up in port that night, but he did drink some of Eleanor’s wine. This time he made room for her before she got into bed, but he still had to hold her or one of them would have fallen out. Between the gentle swaying of the ship and the comfort of Henry’s arms, Eleanor quickly fell asleep.