by April Munday
“No, you have made your preference for Henry clear.”
Eleanor blushed.
“Do not waste your time with Henry.” There was something in Isabelle’s tone that Eleanor could not identify. She waited for an explanation, but Isabelle said no more.
“Henry is gone; I could not waste my time with him even if I wanted to.” Her voice was sharper than she had intended. Once again she reminded herself that she had no reason to hold it against Henry that he had left her here. He had told her, and she believed him, that she was safer in Sir John’s house than she would have been have been in his, but she missed him more than she had expected. And now Edward was paying her court, the last thing she would have expected of him.
“If you do not wish to return to your convent, you could do worse than marry Edward.”
“But I do want to go back, to go home.” Eleanor said the words, but knew the convent was not her home. She really had no idea what ‘home’ meant, although she was beginning to understand and she was certain it was not something Edward could give her.
She spoke to Edward that evening before his guests arrived, since she saw no reason not to confront him.
“Isabelle says you intend to marry me.”
Edward laughed. “Does she? What gave her that idea?”
“You have been very attentive to me.”
“I learned the lesson that my brother taught me with his fist.” He became serious. “Do not pretend that you didn’t hear us.”
“I heard,” she admitted. “You have decided to pay me attentions because Henry hit you?”
“No. I have decided to pay you the respect due to you. You have been out of the world for a long time, Sister Margaret. I have merely been showing you respect, nothing more.”
“Why does Isabelle think it is more than that?”
“I don’t know. She has a good imagination. Because she is looking for a husband, she thinks that I am looking for a wife.” Edward smiled. “If you, on the other hand, are the one who wishes to marry me...”
Eleanor shook her head and smiled. “I shall return to my nunnery. Henry will take me back.”
Edward opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Eleanor waited and Edward reconsidered.
“If that is what he told you, he will do so. He is a man of his word.” His tone implied the opposite of his words and she wondered what Henry had done to lose his honour in his brother’s eyes. Her short experience of the brothers had shown her that Henry was the more truthful of the two and she would continue to believe what he had told her until something happened to show her that she was wrong. Doubt, real or pretended, on Edward’s part would not convince her.
There was some noise in the passage outside.
“My guests,” said Edward. “Wait here and I will bring them to you.”
Edward brought five people with him, two couples and a lone man. All three men were merchants like Edward. Robert traded in wool, Alonso in spices and John in furs. Robert was the unmarried man and was the youngest and best dressed of the three. Eleanor suspected that he was also the richest. Isabelle came down and was introduced to the guests. She smiled at them and talked easily with them. Eleanor was surprised and pleased; it meant that there would be less for her to say. She had dreaded this meal; although they all ate together at the convent, she never had to eat with strangers and had certainly never had to talk to so many at one time.
Isabelle knew exactly how to behave and Eleanor followed her lead, although she was quieter. The women showed some interest in her life in the convent and she told them some of things that had happened there, but she preferred to sit and listen to the men discussing the war with France, the politics of the town and trade. Both Edward and his sister encouraged Robert to speak and Eleanor was not sorry. He had a pleasant voice and knew how to put forward his argument. He had travelled a great deal and seen much and Eleanor found herself caught up in his stories. Some were amusing and some frightening, but all were entertaining and well-told. He seemed to realise that he was there for Isabelle’s sake and directed his stories to her. She appreciated it and smiled at him encouragingly.
Eleanor was surprised to find that she was sorry when the evening ended and the guests left. She was still excited by their tales of distant places and strange people. Her journey with Henry had shown her how isolated she had been in the convent, but now she knew that there was so much more about which she knew nothing.
Isabelle was tired and went to bed as soon as they were alone, but Eleanor stayed talking with Edward in the hall. She had not forgotten her wariness of him, but neither had she forgotten Henry’s threat. She did not doubt that he would carry it out if given cause and thought that Edward must also understand the threat to his life.
“You enjoyed the stories this evening, Sister Margaret?”
“A great deal. There is much about the world that I do not know and I want to know more.”
Edward smiled. “I believe you are wasted in a convent. You should be out sailing the seas by the side of your husband or managing a business with him.”
“I have no wish for those things. I have a vocation.”
“Really?” Edward raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say that you have lived in the convent since you were a child? You didn’t live long enough in the world to know what you were giving up.”
“I don’t need to know what I’m giving up.”
“Why not?” Edward was curious.
“I have a vocation. In many ways I have no choice.”
“So if I kissed you now, it would make no difference?”
So now we have come to it, thought Eleanor, Edward the seducer of women has revealed himself at last. She was no longer so sure of the protection offered by Henry’s threat, but drew herself up, ready to defend herself as Edward leaned towards her.
“Do not worry, I do not mean to force myself on you, only that I should like to kiss you if it is agreeable to you.” He was so close that she felt his breath on her face.
Eleanor thought for a moment. “And if it is not agreeable?”
“Then we will speak no more of it and I will not kiss you.” Edward moved no further forward, but neither did he draw back.
Eleanor thought hard. The day had been so full of new experiences, would a kiss just be another one or would it be something more important? Should it be? She had no idea; such things were not spoken of at the convent and she had had no need to learn. She made her decision.
“Very well,” she said, “you can kiss me.”
Edward smiled and Eleanor was frightened again. It was a predatory smile and reminded her again to be afraid of him.
“Stand up,” Edward said. “It will be easier for you.”
She stood and Edward stood in front of her. He ran the back of his fingers down her face. “You are a beautiful woman, Sister Margaret.” He ran a thumb over her lips and she almost backed away at the shock of it, but she was determined to see it through. His thumb was followed swiftly by his lips. He pressed them gently against hers and increased the pressure, then he did something clever with his tongue and her mouth opened to let him in. Eleanor had no idea what she should do, but Edward seemed to expect little of her. His tongue explored her mouth and she found that she enjoyed the sensations that he was creating. Gradually she responded in kind and felt, rather than heard Edward’s moan of satisfaction and need. Afraid once more she pulled away from him.
“Tell me you didn’t enjoy that,” demanded Edward, defiantly looking into her eyes. One hand still cradled her cheek and he stroked it lazily with his thumb.
Despite herself Eleanor said, “I did enjoy it.” She was surprised at how breathless she was and how unsteady on her feet.
“See, I told you it would be like this.” He kissed her forehead. Eleanor started to cry and her body shook. Edward took her into his arms and stroked her hair.
“Do not grieve so. It’s not as if I took your virginity. It was only a kiss.”
Stil
l, Eleanor did grieve. Edward’s gentle kiss on her forehead had been tender enough, but it had reminded her of Henry and she knew deep within herself that she had done something wrong.
Edward held her until she stopped crying. “I did not mean to make you cry,” he said as he wiped away her tears. “That’s not the effect I normally have on women.”
“It was not your fault,” said Eleanor, wishing she were anywhere but in Edward’s arms. “I had not expected to enjoy it so much.” She could not understand how she had lost control of herself so much as to cry in the arms of a man who was little more than a stranger and a stranger she didn’t trust.
Edward grinned again, this time like a small boy who had been given his greatest desire. Too late, Eleanor realised she should not have encouraged him. She had no idea how to behave with a man and no one she could ask. Isabelle could hardly be expected to give impartial advice and Eleanor feared that she would be shocked that the quiet little nun had allowed the merchant to kiss her.
“May I kiss you again, not now, you are too upset, but later?”
“Yes, I think you might.” This was not the answer she had intended to give, but the thought of not being kissed again was terrible. Was the path to sin really this easy and this pleasurable?
Eleanor lay awake a long time in bed. After Edward had escorted her the short distance from the hall to the bedchamber, they had said goodnight in the gallery. Isabelle had already been asleep when Eleanor had got into their bed. It was thoughts about Henry and Edward that were keeping her awake. Eleanor had felt safe with Henry and he had left her in Edward’s care. No, that wasn’t true. He had left her in his father’s care and she had chosen to come here, but Henry had abandoned her. He had become the centre of her new life and then he had left her. She had been safe at the convent and he had taken her away and then he had abandoned her. He, of all people, knew that she had no one else now that Philip was dead. She had come to rely on him and now he was gone. She was alone here to be tempted by Edward and Edward was so tempting. She had never been kissed before. Now she had been and she knew that she liked it. If Edward wanted her to stay here it might not be so bad to stay with him. She might have misjudged his character, but for the memory that his own brother had thought it necessary to threaten his life to keep her safe from him.
Now she didn’t know what to think. The only thing she really knew was that she wanted to be kissed again. She wanted to feel again the excitement that she had known when Edward had touched her.
Eleanor crawled out of the bed and knelt on the floor and prayed again for forgiveness and guidance. What should she do? How could she avoid Edward? Did she really want to avoid him? She wanted to be kissed again, but she knew it was wrong. She was a nun; she had a vocation and she had to go back to the convent. Henry had promised to take her back when it was safe, but he was gone and had forgotten her.
“Please help me,” she begged. “Please show me the way to go. Let your light shine on the path I should follow.”
She prayed until she began to fall asleep, then got back into bed, shivering from cold. Her way was clear.
“Will you take me back to the convent?” Eleanor was walking with Edward along the quay to his ship. Isabelle was walking ahead with Robert. Today they were sailing to the Isle of Wight.
“Do you want to go back?” He sounded disappointed. “I don’t know why Henry took you away from it, but he did say it wasn’t safe for you to go back. Eleanor, I have been away a long time and I cannot spare the time to travel to Devon and back by horse and it is too late in the year to sail there. You must wait until spring, unless Henry comes for you sooner.” She could not mistake his tone.
“You do not believe that Henry will ever take me back, do you?”
“Are you truly so impatient to return, Sister Margaret?” Edward had stopped and turned her to face him.
“I know that if I stay here there is a good chance you will tempt me from my vocation.” She saw no reason to hide the truth from him.
“Good, that is what I intend.”
“Would you sin so easily and so thoughtlessly?” This was such a strange world where people gambled with their souls.
Edward’s mouth dropped open. “If it meant you would stay, yes, I would.”
“But it is God’s will that I go back to the convent.”
“Is it? Henry told me your brother put you there so that he wouldn’t have to pay a dowry for you.”
“What!”
Edward looked away. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
“Henry told you lies about my brother.” Even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true.
“I doubt it. Henry isn’t given to lying. He’d tell you the truth even if it was against himself.” It was clear that Edward thought this was another weakness in his brother, but Eleanor respected Henry all the more, despite her anger that he had told Edward something that couldn’t be true. Perhaps Philip had said it as a joke and Henry had believed him. “Philip would never have done something like that. He prayed about it, as I did. It was God’s will.” Eleanor spoke what she had believed all these years, but if Henry was not a liar and Edward was only reporting what Henry had said, she was the one who was mistaken. She didn’t know what to think now. Was it really God’s will for her to be in the convent?
“Was it?” Edward echoed her own thought. “Then why is it so easy for me to tempt you? Wouldn’t God strike me dead before he would allow me to kiss you?”
Eleanor slapped him for the blasphemy, then said, “It was a test and I failed.”
Edward caught her hands together in his. For a moment she was afraid. “Sister Margaret, Eleanor, you shouldn’t be a nun any more than I should. You felt it on my ship. You belonged there as if you had been born there. It was as if you had come home.”
Eleanor couldn’t turn her eyes away from his. He was speaking the truth, as he knew it.
“You belong with me, not in the convent.” And when he kissed her, Eleanor found herself beginning to believe him.
It was a blustery day and Eleanor enjoyed the short voyage as much as she had expected. She stood on the deck where she could feel the wind. Sometimes she was alone and sometimes Edward was with her. He never spoke to her or tried to touch her. He stood next to her looking up at the sails or at the island that they were approaching at great speed. Twice she smiled up at him as he stood next to her and he grinned back.
She tried not to think too much about what he had said to her; she wanted to enjoy this short voyage. Most of her first voyage had been spent below deck with Henry, now she could see where the ship was going, hear the sailors shouting to one another, hear the sound of the wind in the sails. It was exciting and she didn’t want to miss a moment of it. Even Isabelle seemed to understand that it would not be a good idea to try to talk to her and stayed below deck with Robert.
This is what she would do if she married Edward, she thought. She would sail with him and they would stand on deck together and watch the sails and listen to the wind blowing the ropes against the mast. He would run the ship and occasionally, when no one was looking, her would take her in his arms and kiss her.
How could she go back to the convent if she could have this? Edward understood how easily this had become part of her. She would learn the moods of the sea and the wind. One day she would understand why the ship moved through the water in the way it did. There was so much in this new world to learn and to enjoy, but sailing seemed to be the best of all of them.
The voyage was over too soon and they stepped ashore at Yarmouth. Robert escorted them to an inn, while Edward oversaw the unloading of the cargo. Isabelle and Robert were almost entirely wrapped up in one another and Eleanor thought it could not be long before they were married. She smiled at how easily and quickly Isabelle had seen what she wanted and gone after it. Now it looked as if she had obtained it. Would it be that easy for Edward to obtain her, she wondered? This morning she would have said yes, just for the excitement
of sailing with him, now she thought more calmly about the convent and her vocation. Even if she did not go back to the convent she did not have to marry; her wealth would give her a good life. Life with Edward would definitely be exciting. Did she crave excitement, then? No, she craved the peace and quiet of the convent. Eleanor sighed; she wanted both the excitement and the peace. Edward had been right; she had no idea what she would be giving up when she took her vows, if she took her vows. The longer she stayed in the world the more difficult it would be to leave Edward behind.
It was some time before Edward joined them, more than enough time for Eleanor to consider what he had said to her. It could not be true that Philip had left her in the convent to avoid paying her dowry; her dowry had gone to the convent. She had never discussed the size of her dowry with her brother. It was not important enough for her to worry about.
Edward must have lied about that. If Henry had told her himself, she must have believed him; she did not think Henry would lie, not even to protect her. It was easier to believe that Edward lied. He was changeable and seemed to say whatever suited him or would best achieve his aims. Eleanor was not in the least inclined to trust him. He was trying to seduce her, that was all. Despite his words about her belonging with him she guessed that he would soon tire of her. As soon as she could, she was going to go back to the convent. It frightened her, though, that she enjoyed his kisses so much. How long would it be before he seduced her into his bed? When she and Isabelle returned tomorrow she would not leave Sir John’s house again. Once lost, her virtue could not be regained. She had seen the unwanted women who came to the convent to have their babies. They had been cast out by their families and even the nuns did not make them welcome. And after they had given birth they were never allowed to see their children again. The more presentable women were kept as servants in the convent. That was not a fate she wished for herself. She doubted Edward would want to bring up a child with her and she knew that she could not bear the shame of doing it alone. She shook herself. No! There were too many good reasons not to give in to Edward. She could not come to Southampton with Isabelle again.