by April Munday
“It’s not what, Eleanor?”
“I am speechless, that is all. It’s such a valuable thing that you leave in my care.” This was true enough. Even a book that was not of the best quality was an expensive item to leave with someone he had known only a few days.
“I can think of nowhere more secure to leave it.”
“Won’t you miss it?”
“Yes,” he said simply, “but it will comfort me to know that you are using it.”
Eleanor smiled up at him. “Thank you. I will look after it well and return it to you at Christmas.”
“Until Christmas, then.” Henry bowed, turned away and was gone. Tears sprang into Eleanor’s eyes and she wiped them away so that no one could see them before she had mastered herself.
Eleanor grew used to the pattern of the days in the household. It was very different to what she had known in the convent, but the pattern itself was comforting. She quickly discovered that there were things that were suitable for a woman of her status to do and things that were not. She was permitted to weave and to sew and to oversee or assist in the kitchen. She was not permitted to attend to the horses, despite her protestations that this had been one of her duties in the convent. Sir John had been offended when she had offered and William had laughed. He had explained to his father that they could not expect that nuns did things in the same way as they did, but he took her with him sometimes when he went to inspect them and asked her advice. Eleanor guessed that Henry had told him that it would please her sometimes to be with the horses.
Isabelle was a cheerful woman of Eleanor’s age. Although she was more interested in finding a husband and dressing well than in anything else, she was so ready to be friends with everyone that Eleanor found it easy to talk to her and it quickly seemed to Eleanor that they had known one another all their lives. It was Isabelle’s habit to spend a few days a month in Southampton at Edward’s house when he was at home. This was encouraged by her parents as an opportunity for her to meet a wealthy man so that she might marry quickly and well.
After much persuasion on Isabelle’s part, Eleanor agreed to go with her. Edward, who had remained at his parents’ house, had continued to entertain her and had cheered her up after Henry had gone. She was beginning to wonder whether she had misjudged his character. Unfailingly polite and attentive to her needs, he never intruded when it was clear that she wanted to pray or just needed some quiet for a while.
When Edward heard that she was going to travel with Isabelle he offered to teach her to ride; it would be quicker and more comfortable than a cart and more fitting to her status than sharing a horse, although she could see from the way that he said it that he found the idea of sharing a horse with her attractive. Eleanor did not miss the implied criticism of Henry, but said nothing. She accepted the offer, provided Isabelle accompany them and Edward replied that he had intended nothing else. Isabelle had no objection and was happy to escort her new friend for the riding lesson.
The horse that Edward chose was Lady Mary’s gentle mare. Eleanor managed to get up unaided and tried to match her posture to Isabelle’s, who sat her horse easily and confidently. The horse was skittish with a stranger on her back and Eleanor was unsure how to calm her when she could not look her in the eye, which had been her practice with the convent horses and Solomon.
“You sit well,” said Edward, urging his horse to walk in a slow circle around her. His eyes were on her and she knew that he was not just looking at how she was sitting on the horse. She felt strangely warm, as if she had been caught doing or saying something stupid by Mother Abbott, but the feeling that went with the warmth was nothing like embarrassment.
“Squeeze your knees gently and we will be off.” Edward exaggerated the movement himself and moved slowly away from her.
This had worked with Solomon and Eleanor squeezed confidently. The mare started into a slow walk and Eleanor began to relax.
Edward was a good and patient teacher and she learned quickly. Twice it would have been reasonable for him to touch her, but he asked his sister to do so. Eleanor found herself enjoying his company once she realised that he was not going to impose on her any more than he had inside the house. He laughed easily and smiled a lot and she found herself responding in kind.
When she tried to canter, she lost her balance and fell to the ground. Edward was beside her in an instant, his face showing his concern.
“Do not try to move for a moment, breathe easily first.” Eleanor obeyed, unable to do anything else for a moment, having been winded by the fall.
Isabelle, who had gone after the mare and caught her, returned to them and dismounted to stand by her brother.
“Are you hurt?” Edward sounded worried.
“I don’t think so.”
“Good.” He smiled and nodded, thoughtfully. “Now you try moving your fingers and toes.”
When she had done so to Edward’s satisfaction, he said she could sit up.
“It is better if you can do it without help. If you have broken something you will know before I would and I could make it worse if I am pulling on you. I have seen many helpful sailors harm their crewmates in that way.”
“Very well.” Eleanor started to raise herself. There was a little pain, but nothing seemed to be broken.
Edward stood and reached down to her. “Take my hand. I will not pull you up, but I can take your weight.”
Eleanor reached up for his hand and stood, using her other hand against the ground. As soon as she could stand unaided, Edward let her go.
“Are you hurt?” he asked again.
“I’m sore, that is all.” She was sure that this was the case. She could move easily enough and there would probably be bruises later, but there would be no permanent damage. “And wet,” she added.
Although it had not snowed for two days, there was still snow on the ground and Eleanor could feel it melting through her tunic.
“Will you ride again?”
Eleanor nodded; there was no reason not to. Solomon had thrown her from a much greater height and she had been unhurt, but she had trusted Solomon. She did not trust this horse and wondered if the horse felt her unease.
Thoughtfully she returned to the horse and ran her hand down the horse’s face to her mouth.
“You are a beautiful horse,” she whispered. The mare nuzzled her hand. “Ah,” said Eleanor, reaching into her sleeves for the apple she had brought with her, “you can smell this. You’re quite right, it is for you.”
The mare crunched the apple happily while Eleanor climbed back into the saddle. This time she was better prepared when they cantered, although she fell off again when they slowed to a walk, as they neared the house.
“You will ride well,” said Edward as he gave her his hand again, “If you manage not to fall off every time you change speed.” They laughed together and Eleanor recognised that her feelings towards him were changing.
That evening Eleanor sat sewing with Isabelle and Philippa. Isabelle was telling her about the things that Eleanor would see in the town. It sounded very interesting and it seemed that she had seen next to nothing on her last visit. She was not surprised; it was a large and busy town and, since Edward lived so close to the quay, the church and the gate, that was all that she had seen. There was, so said Isabelle, much more of importance to visit.
“And perhaps I will take you on a short sea trip,” said Edward from behind her.
“Oh yes,” said Isabelle. “To the island?”
“To the island.” He sat down near them. “It is a short trip and I already know that Sister Margaret is more at home on a ship than on the back of a horse.”
Eleanor nodded her agreement, already looking forward to another trip, however short, on Edward’s ship. Life outside of the convent might be noisy and disorganised and dangerous, but it was exciting and interesting. It seemed that there was always something new to see or to do.
“I have been hired to take a cargo to Yarmouth. It’s not something I of
ten do, but I thought you would enjoy it.” He addressed this to Eleanor and she noticed that Philippa did not miss this.
“You mean to entertain Sister Margaret well while she is your guest,” she said.
“It would be rude to do otherwise,” said Edward easily, but Eleanor knew that he, too, had heard the anger in Philippa’s voice. She felt that he understood the reason for it, but she did not. He smiled and left them. The next day he returned to Southampton. He was to come back to Abbot’s Ridge for them in a few days.
It was two days before Isabelle told Eleanor that it had been Philippa’s first intention to marry Edward and not William.
“Why?” asked Eleanor.
“Because Edward will be richer than William.”
“But William will have this house and the land.”
“The land is hard work. So many died during the Big Death and those that didn’t found they could earn more elsewhere. Many of the tenants left and Father could not afford to buy more land. Other men became rich, but he became poorer. Edward is a merchant and clever. He chooses his partners wisely. His wife will live at ease and in comfort.”
“But she will be lonely,” said Eleanor, remembering her conversation with Edward.
“All wives are lonely. Men go away to fight or to trade or to gain power and influence. Philippa...well Philippa would rather have that kind of life.”
“But Edward did not want her.”
“No.”
Isabelle said no more and Eleanor did not ask, but she wondered how William felt about being second best and she also wondered why Edward had not wanted Philippa.
“And Henry?”
“No, Philippa never wanted Henry.”
Eleanor laughed, “No, I mean has Henry been married? He has told me so little about himself.”
“No, Henry has never had a wife.”
Eleanor waited for some tale of youthful love gone wrong, but Isabelle said no more and her attitude did not invite further questions. Eleanor wondered at that. Henry was too old not to have married and, however poor he was, a wife would have managed his property while he was away, so that he would not have had to rely too much on his servants. There was a mystery here that she wanted to understand, but she was going to get no help from his sister.
Isabelle’s own plans were known to her. Wealthy landowners were few in this part of Hampshire and she had hopes of a merchant in Southampton. Isabelle did not want wealth for an easy life; she worked hard and was always ready to help. She wanted wealth for her children and she wanted them to be educated. Knowledge brought power and influence and that was what she craved for them.
This was a type of woman with which Eleanor was familiar. Mother Abbess was such a one. She planned and plotted and spread her influence wide. Eleanor was glad to be under the protection of such a woman, but she did not want that position for herself. Working with the horses and in the fields and praying gave her enough satisfaction. She was grateful for the education that she had received at the convent; she could read and write and sing. One day it would be her turn to teach the novices and she looked forward to that, but she had wanted no more from her life.
Two days later Edward returned to the house and escorted his sister and Eleanor to Southampton. To Eleanor’s relief, the journey was uneventful and they were shown up to the room that had been Eleanor’s on her first visit.
As Edward showed them into the room he said, “If you need anything, please call for Sam. If you want to go out, take Sam with you. I have customers to see to now, so please sit at your ease in the hall. Sarah will bring you some food and wine shortly.” Sarah was the maid that Isabelle had brought with her from Abbot’s Ridge. “We will need someone to help us to dress,” she had said, when Eleanor had asked why they needed to bring the woman, for it had seemed to her that there were more than enough servants at Edward’s house.
Edward left them alone and Isabelle sat down on the bed.
“Edward will have guests tonight. I have asked him to invite some of his friends.”
Eleanor nodded, distracted. She was no longer sure why she had agreed to come with Isabelle. At Abbot’s Ridge it had seemed like a good idea to accompany her friend, but here in the town she could only remember how she had been frightened by the number of people walking around the streets and the noise that they made. Now that she was here without Henry she was even more afraid. Despite his new attentions to her, she did not think that Edward would be as proficient a protector as his brother.
“Tomorrow we must ask Edward to take us to the wool merchant. We might as well do some spinning while we’re here. You need some more clothes.”
Eleanor agreed. It was not always convenient for her to borrow Isabelle’s clothes; Isabelle had few enough of her own. They had both brought distaffs from Abbot’s Ridge and Eleanor was looking forward to spinning.
“It’s as well that Henry left some money for you,” continued Isabelle.
“Henry left money?” Eleanor hadn’t known this.
“Yes. Oh, he didn’t tell you. Was it supposed to be a secret?” Isabelle blushed and Eleanor rushed to reassure her.
“No. Perhaps he thought it would displease me.” Eleanor knew very little about life outside of the convent, but she was fairly certain that it was not proper for a man to buy clothes for a woman he had known for only a few days, but she had brought nothing with her and needed at least one change of clothes and nightwear.
“Does it displease you?” Isabelle was concerned.
“No.” Eleanor smiled, uncertainly. “I am glad that he foresaw my needs before I did.” This was true. Once she had realised that she was to stay in a house where there were two other women close to her age she had assumed that the problem of her clothes was resolved, but this was another lesson she had learned about living in this world; Philippa and Isabelle had few clothes between them and it was difficult for them to share.
“Henry is very kind. Sometimes I think he is too gentle to be a soldier.”
Eleanor laughed. “The first time we met he threatened to hit me and he would have done it.”
“Oh! Surely not. Henry would never hit a woman.”
When she saw the expression on Isabelle’s face Eleanor regretted what she had said.
“He would to save her life.” She said this as seriously as she could, to show that she was in earnest.
Isabelle smiled. “I don’t pretend to understand. You must tell me the story. Let us go and taste some of Edward’s wine.”
Edward left them to their own devices that afternoon. They tasted his wine, then, accompanied by Sam, they walked around the walls of the town. It was a strongly defended town with high walls and a castle. Isabelle explained that, after the French had attacked and destroyed the town some years ago, all the wharves and the gardens of the rich merchants had been demolished and replaced by the walls. The French would find it much more difficult to gain entry today.
It was no less busy than it had been on the day when Eleanor had first arrived. The streets were full of people and she found the noise deafening; it almost robbed her of her senses.
Although she was intimidated by the number of people about her, there was so much to see, and all of it new, that excitement overtook her fear. Her neck started to ache as she turned her head constantly to look at each new thing. Her voice grew hoarse as she asked Isabelle question after question. Was that man with a falcon on his wrist very rich? No, many people had falcons in the town. Was it better to buy a pie from a hawker (who had just passed them) or from a cookshop? It was better to eat the ones made by Edward’s cook. Why was that woman in the stocks? Isabelle did not know and had no wish to find out, so they passed by quickly. Was the butcher supposed to throw pig’s innards into the street? No. Isabelle took her arm and they turned back the way they had come rather than try to pick their way through the bloody mess that had already attracted some dogs. Why was that man being pilloried? He was a vintner, one of Edward’s competitors, who had been accused of sell
ing bad wine. They watched passers-by throw things at him. Isabelle’s amusement was clear, but Eleanor was less certain about her own feelings.
When they came across a Dominican friar preaching at a crossroads, Eleanor stopped for a moment to listen to him. A small crowd had gathered round him and were listening attentively. His words rang true to her and she would have stayed longer, but Isabelle drew her away gently to yet another shop.
Eleanor knew that she was not behaving normally, but she did not want to miss this opportunity of finding out as much as possible so that she could understand this new world. Whenever they passed a finely dressed woman Isabelle would explain what made her clothing fashionable or unfashionable. Eleanor thought only how ugly some of them looked in their finery. Sometimes the clothes even made her laugh, glad that she herself could never be as ridiculous. She began to worry that Isabelle might think of persuading her to wear such clothes, but Isabelle said that they would not suit a nun and were far too immodest. She laughed at Eleanor’s relief, but then she spoke seriously, “Eleanor, I believe that my brother hopes to persuade you not to return to the convent, but until that day you are a nun and I will not see you do anything contrary to your vocation.”
Eleanor was confused. Henry had always made it clear that he would return her to the convent. The only uncertainty was when that might be. He had never spoken to her about remaining here.
Isabelle saw her confusion. “You have not noticed how much effort he makes to please you? He does not sail to Yarmouth for my sake.”
Eleanor shook her head. Edward? Isabelle thought that Edward wanted to keep her with him? Although she was now fairly certain she had misjudged him at first, she looked back at his behaviour over the last few days and it did appear that he had been a man anxious to please her.
“I had not noticed,” she admitted, “but now I do. You must believe that I have not encouraged this.”