by April Munday
“But I didn’t. I’m alright.” She tried to reassure her friend. More than anything she wanted to hear about Edward’s behaviour. He had said little about how he scared off their attacker and she did not know how he had got her back to his house or who had cared for her.
“You are. Robert and I were in church every day, praying for you. Edward stayed with you all the time. He would only let the surgeon near you, not Sarah and not me.”
“I’m sorry about that. He should have let you help.”
It would have comforted Isabelle to know that she was doing something useful, but Eleanor was grateful for her prayers.
“He was angry all the time, mainly with himself. Oh, Eleanor, it was terrible. He loves you so much.”
Eleanor couldn’t hide her surprise. She was beginning to recognise that Edward had some affection for her, but she had not thought it could be love. Her own feelings for him were far more complicated. His actions over the last few days had shown him to be more caring than she had suspected. He had provided for her every need, often before she had known she needed something, Gratitude made up a large proportion of her feelings for him, but something else was developing. Was it love? Did his love produce its like in her?
Isabelle said no more and Eleanor felt the impulse to fill the silence. “I begin to see that he might love me.”
Isabelle smiled, “And you? You must love him, surely?”
It was the simple response of a woman who loved her brother. Could Eleanor put aside her first impression of Edward and give him the place in her heart that he seemed to want?
“Perhaps,” she said cautiously. It was becoming clear that Edward was a difficult man to resist.
One day Edward lifted her from the bed and carried her down to the hall where she sat by the fire and they talked for a while. They had not said much while he had been in what she now thought of as ‘her’ bedchamber, but now there were things that had to be said. Eleanor had thought a lot about the cause of the argument between Peter and Edward. She had no idea whether Peter’s cause was just and realised that she had no wish to know.
“We left Yarmouth in the storm to get away from that man, didn’t we?”
Edward nodded.
“Thank you for saving my life.”
Edward put down his wine. “It was foolish of me to let it go that far.”
“Perhaps.”
“It was. Eleanor, I don’t think you understand how highly I regard you and how deeply I regret putting you into danger.”
Eleanor looked into the fire. “When Henry left me with your parents I felt that he had abandoned me. I felt that I was among strangers in a strange land.”
“And now?” Edward’s voice was just a whisper.
She turned her face back to him. She had expected to see some sort of tenderness in his face, but he seemed to be suppressing his anger. The smile on her own face slipped slightly, but she carried on with what she wanted to say. “Now, I think it was for the best.”
“Despite spending the last week in bed?” Now he did smile, slightly.
“Since I left the convent I have had no peace, no time to think or pray. Being in bed has given me that time. I understand what has happened and why. What I do not see is what I should do next.”
“Do you have to see it? Can’t you wait to see what happens?”
“I am not in the hands of fate,” she said scornfully. “I am in God’s hands and I must follow where he leads. I just cannot see yet where He is leading me.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I miss the Mother Abbess. She is very good at helping me to understand God’s will. She doesn’t direct me; she just listens to me and lets me discover what God has put in my heart.”
“There is an abbey in Romsey,” said Edward, hesitantly. “It is near my father’s house. Would it help you to go there?”
Eleanor thought for a moment. Could another Mother Abbess help her? Was she wilful because she already had her own ideas about the best course?
“What do you think I should do?”
Edward reached across the space that separated them and took her hand. “I think you should stay here until you are well enough to travel. Then you should go back to my parents’ house. It will soon be Christmas and perhaps we will have some news for Henry when we visit him.” He squeezed her hand and Eleanor took a deep breath. If Edward asked her to marry him she would not know how to answer. Could she give up her vows for him? Should she? She wanted to. She didn’t think she loved him, not yet, but that might come. He was not the man she had thought him to be at first. He had shown himself to be protective and tender towards her. Their combined wealth would give them a good life. He would not leave her behind when he went on his voyages as he had threatened. Not, at least until there were children and they would occupy her time while he was gone. She would not be lonely. Still she was not sure. If only he could be kept from making an approach until after Christmas, until she had seen Henry again.
Edward escorted Eleanor through the town when she was well enough to walk. She leaned heavily on his arm, still not quite able to walk unaided for more than a few steps. It was a cold December morning and the sharp air made her sneeze and cough as she breathed.
“There’s snow in the air,” said Edward.
“Snow? How can you tell?”
“It’s the way the air smells, the way the clouds are in the sky. There are always signs if you know how to look.”
“I didn’t know you could smell snow. I have seen and learned so much since I left the convent.”
Eleanor bit her lip; she did not want to seem happy that she was no longer in the convent. It could only encourage him in his pursuit of her, but she couldn’t think what else to direct his attention to.
“There’s so much more you can see and do here. In the spring you could come with me to Gascony to trade in wine, or I can take you further south if you wish.”
“Thank you, but...”
“I’m sorry, Eleanor. I told myself to leave you to make your decision by yourself, but the thought of taking you sailing excites me so.”
Eleanor turned to look at him. He certainly seemed to be excited. She had never even dreamed of travelling to Gascony, but, now that she thought about it, it seemed to be an attractive idea.
The morning became darker and colder and it started to snow before they had reached St Michael’s. Eleanor looked up at the white flakes falling towards her and smiled. They were beautiful, but they were cold and wet where they fell on her face. Edward brushed them away and pulled the hood of her cloak closer around her face. The gesture was purely practical. Once more she was surprised by his lack of tenderness in just those moments where she expected to find it.
They walked on together and went into the church. Throughout the service they stood at the back, paying close attention to what was going on. After Mass they waited so that Edward could speak to another merchant. As the church emptied Eleanor saw the spot where she had prayed with Henry and went and knelt there. She felt tears on her face as she prayed for guidance. She knew what she wanted to do, but was it right?
Edward put a hand on her shoulder and it was time to leave. She tried not to hold it against him that he had interrupted her in the midst of something sacred, but it was difficult. Sometimes he seemed to understand the turmoil she felt; at others it seemed to make him impatient. As he helped her to stand, she was unsteady and he put his arm around her waist. Leaning against him she walked from the church and into the snow.
Already the snow was deep enough that their feet sank into it. All around were depressions where others had walked through it. It continued to snow heavily and Eleanor started to shiver.
“I have kept you out too long for your first time out of the house.”
“No. It has done me good to be in church.”
“I can take you every morning if you wish.” His heart was not in his offer. She already knew from Isabelle that Edward attended service as little as possible.
“I have ke
pt you too long from your business already.”
“Simon looks after my business while I am away from home and this is no different, except that I am there to look at the records and to supervise him.”
“He is a good man.” Here was something that Eleanor felt was safe to discuss.
“He hopes to marry soon.” Eleanor groaned inwardly; she did not wish to discuss anything to do with marriage.
“Does he have a bride in mind?” If she could keep the conversation about Simon, they might get through the day without a proposal of some kind.
“He is paying court to Elizabeth, the daughter of Michael, the goldsmith.”
“Poor Simon. I doubt the goldsmith will want him.” The goldsmith was a rich man who had brought his daughters to a meal in Edward’s house one evening. He was fond of all his daughters, but Elizabeth was his favourite.
“No, but he is a good and honest worker. And he has a lot of responsibilities when I am away. She is his third daughter and not beautiful. Her dowry will be small.”
“Does Simon want her for her dowry?”
“No, it seems that he loves her. He says that she is clever, which I should think a poor thing in a wife for him.”
“Perhaps he has plans which require a clever wife.”
“It may be so. He knows what he can expect from me. I will not make him my partner. My business is for my son, not my apprentice.”
“Does he expect to work for the goldsmith?”
“No, he expects to continue working for me and I have no quarrel with that. You...” He stopped.
Eleanor held her breath, certain that he had been going to outline the ways in which she would be able to rely on Simon after she became Edward’s wife.
“You must admit that he can expect no more,” stammered Edward.
“It seems to me that you have given much thought to your apprentice’s future.”
“He is honest and I want to keep him.”
Eleanor patted the hand that was still at her waist. “Then it seems that it would be to his advantage to stay with you.”
By now they had reached the house and Eleanor was glad to be inside. Edward helped her upstairs where she sat and warmed herself by the fire. Isabelle returned shortly after and sat with her. Her face was flushed, but whether from the cold or for some other reason Eleanor could not tell.
“You have been to church with Robert?”
“Yes, he lives in the next parish and we thought, well, we thought it better to leave you and Edward alone.”
Eleanor smiled without feeling; she knew Isabelle expected her to marry Edward. That was not so strange, but she would rather not have it discussed so much by others. It seemed it was as difficult to keep private things private in the world as it had been in the convent.
“Your company would have been agreeable,” she said. Then added, “Although I’m sure you would rather have been alone with Robert and he with you.”
“Do you think so?” Isabelle grasped Eleanor’s hands. “He says nothing, but I think he enjoys my company.” Despite her practical approach to marrying a wealthy main, it seemed that Isabelle was falling in love with Robert. Eleanor suspected that Robert was also in love with her.
“Has he not spoken to Edward?”
“No. He has not even enquired as to the size of my dowry.”
“Perhaps he would rather speak to your father.”
“He has never met my father, nor shown any inclination to do so.”
Eleanor looked out of the window and saw that the snow was still falling. “And perhaps it is now too late to do so before Christmas.”
“Do not worry, Eleanor, this will not last long. We will be back with my parents as soon as you are well enough to travel.” For the first time Eleanor saw Isabelle’s frustration at being stuck in the town with her. Although it would give her more time to spend with Robert, it also made it more difficult for him to ask for her hand.
Eleanor hoped that day would come soon. And not just for Isabelle’s sake. Each day they spent in Edward’s house was another day during which he might make his own proposal. Isabelle sighed and shook herself.
“Since we have no other entertainment, shall we start work on your new clothes?”
“Very well, but I warn you that I am not skilled with a needle.” Eleanor smiled. Isabelle was always practical; if she could not do what she wanted she would find something useful to do.
“Then it as well that I am very skilled and a good teacher.”
Despite herself Eleanor laughed and, after they had eaten at noon, she and Isabelle began work.
They sewed all afternoon. Isabelle was indeed good with a needle and very patient with Eleanor’s mistakes. Eleanor’s hands were better suited to working with horses than with a needle, but she could do what was necessary and Isabelle did the fine work. By the time the evening meal was ready Isabelle declared herself satisfied with what they had done and Eleanor had to admit that she had enjoyed herself. They had spoken little and she had found the silence calming. She had had to concentrate on their stitching and had not had time to worry about when Edward would ask her to marry him and what she would say.
That night Isabelle resumed her place in the bed in bedchamber at the front of the house and Edward returned to the back of the house.
Chapter Nine
Isabelle had been right about the snow. It snowed another day and lay on the ground for a further day, then disappeared the following morning. That afternoon Edward’s parents arrived. Eleanor guessed that Edward had sent for them in response to a request from Robert. He had sent them a messenger after she had been injured to explain why Isabelle would not be returning home as expected.
Sir John and Lady Mary were cold after their journey and Sarah served them all warm spiced wine in the hall. Eleanor was not sure that she should stay, but when she looked to Edward for guidance he smiled and gestured at her to sit on the stool that Sarah had brought for her.
“You look well, Sister Margaret,” said Sir John. “From Edward’s message I expected to find you prostrate in bed.”
It took a moment for Eleanor to realise that she had been addressed and she blushed from shame. Isabelle and sometimes even Robert called her Eleanor now.
“I am recovering well, thank you,” she said finally. “Your children have cared for me with great attention.”
“We are glad to hear it. We would have come sooner, but the rain caused the river to flood our fields. Then the snow...”
“Please, there is no need. Edward and Isabelle did everything that was needful.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
Edward enquired after the state of the fields and the conversation moved on, leaving Eleanor to consider how far she had fallen already. She thought for a moment that she should go into the abbey for a while, but that would not be the answer. She resolved to speak to the priest at St Michael’s tomorrow. If she could not go to Mother Abbess for advice, she would seek out the priest.
The afternoon passed pleasantly enough and Eleanor’s guess as to the reason for the visit seemed to be confirmed when Robert arrived to join them for the evening meal.
He seemed determined to please Sir John and Lady Mary and was charming and entertaining. Eleanor joined in the laughter, even though she was becoming very tired.
Not long after they had finished eating Eleanor excused herself. Immediately Edward was by her side, searching her face for any sign of weakness.
“I am tired,” she explained. “I have grown unused to being awake for such a long time.”
“You look so well that I forget how ill you have been. I shall send Sarah to help you, so that Isabelle can stay with our parents.” Eleanor knew that Edward lied. Her face was still bandaged to keep the poultices against the wound on the back of her head and the cut on her cheek. Every glance must tell him how ill she still was. It was a sign to Eleanor of how tired she was that she did not turn the offer of help down and was instead very grateful for Sarah’s assistance.<
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Sarah left a candle in the bedchamber, but Eleanor extinguished it and lay in the darkness, worrying and praying until she shortly fell asleep.
Eleanor broke her fast early with Edward. His parents and Isabelle still slept. Eleanor was grateful that no one else would know her plan.
“I should like to speak to your parish priest.”
“So that he can play the part of your Mother Abbess? A good idea.” Edward smiled.
Eleanor was surprised and pleased that Edward understood so quickly.
“I shall take you to his house, but....”
“You do not need to stay with me. It is not so far away that I cannot walk back on my own.”
“That is not what worries me. You have the stamina and strength to do so, but I fear you will be robbed. We will take Sam and he will escort you back.”
Eleanor thought that Sam, the small kitchen boy, would be of little help if she were attacked, but said nothing. She doubted she would be robbed; everyone knew that Edward’s guest was a nun who had nothing, but she appreciated his concern. She had been hurt once and he did not want her to be hurt again.
As soon as they had finished eating Edward sent for Sam and they set off. Sam was very proud of his task as protector of his master’s guest and he kept looking around as they walked and constantly fingered the hilt of the knife in his belt. Eleanor bit her lip to stop herself smiling; it would not do the boy good to think she was laughing at him.
Father Timothy’s servant led them to the small room in the middle of the house where the priest was sitting thoughtfully before a fire.
“Ah, Edward, come in.”
“This is Sister Margaret,” Edward introduced her.
“Of course. I have heard that you are visiting Edward with his sister.”
“And you have heard of the attack that injured her.”
The priest nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry you are having such a terrible time in this town.”