by April Munday
“Let’s not bother John with that now,” said Edward. “Let’s go into the hall and warm ourselves.”
“I don’t mind at all showing Sister Margaret the books, if she doesn’t mind being cold a bit longer.”
“I am perfectly comfortable,” replied Eleanor and followed the merchant as he led her to the back of his house.
The library consisted of three shelves in his counting room and covered many subjects. John explained that this was the most secure room in the house and he had little fear that the books could be stolen. The rich covers of the books begged her to touch them and she reached out her hand to one. John smiled and took down a map book to show her a map of the world and then a map of England. They traced the journey she had made from the convent to Southampton and Eleanor was again grateful that they had travelled without mishap. She asked where Yarmouth was so that she could measure the journey there and was surprised at how short the distance was.
They looked through another book, this time about falconry. Eleanor could remember Philip working with falcons as a boy and found the illustrations very pleasing and accurate.
As they were leaving to join the other guests Eleanor noticed Edward’s book on archery on one of the shelves. She recognised it as his because there was a crack in the front cover that made an interesting shape. Looking around the library she quickly discovered the other two books that she had last seen in Edward’s house. She opened her mouth to ask about the books but remembered that Edward had denied ever owning such things. The books must have belonged to John and Edward must have borrowed them for a time. Customers would be impressed by seeing books in his business room; that must be what had happened. It would have been simpler for Edward to tell her this, however, than to deny that he had even had the books in the house.
When they entered the hall Eleanor realised how cold she was and gratefully accepted the cup of warm spiced wine that she was offered. She joined Isabelle and Robert who were admiring a small tapestry that hung on a wall. Eleanor examined this further sign of the merchant’s wealth and thought he might have done better with his money to help the poor. The merchant’s wife, Elizabeth, joined them.
“It is beautiful,” she said, “and I like to look at it, but I enjoy it most knowing that it was a gift from the king.”
“How so?” exclaimed Isabelle, as Eleanor began to think better of John’s reasons for displaying such wealth. She was glad, for the merchant had a friendly manner and Robert had told her and Isabelle that he was an honest man and well-respected.
“John performed a service for the Prince of Wales in France and the king presented him with this out of gratitude.”
All three women turned to gaze upon the example of the king’s generosity.
Edward sat next to Eleanor at the meal, but did not speak to her except to introduce her to the other guests or to ask how she found the food and the wine. He avoided her after the meal and Eleanor sat with Isabelle and Robert while the men told tales to entertain them.
It was a pleasant evening, but still Eleanor worried about what would happen when they returned Edward’s house.
When they got back Isabelle announced as usual that she was going directly to bed, smiling to Eleanor as she went.
“Wait, Isabelle. Eleanor has played her part as your companion to protect your reputation; do you now leave her alone with me?” Edward’s voice was cold.
Isabelle looked confused; as well she might, as neither Eleanor nor Edward had complained before about being left alone together.
“I beg your pardon, Eleanor. It was rude of me not to consider your reputation. I will sit up with you as long as you wish.”
Eleanor smiled at her. “I do not wish. I am tired after so much talking and so many stories. I will go to bed with you now.”
She said goodnight to Edward and they both went into the bedchamber.
“Have you and Edward fallen out?” Isabelle asked as Eleanor helped her to undress.
“Not really.” Eleanor could not tell the lie that would have comforted her friend.
“He told me that we must go back to Father’s soon.”
That would also arouse her suspicions. Eleanor cast about for something to distract Isabelle.
“Would you miss Robert so very much if we did?”
Isabelle nodded.
“But we cannot prepare properly for your wedding here. Candlemas is not so far away.”
Isabelle considered this.
“There is much to be done, that is true. You wish to be away from Edward?”
Eleanor swallowed the sigh that threatened after her failure to divert her friend.
“It seems a poor repayment to your father and mother for their kindness that I have spent most of my time with Edward.”
“They are glad that you have, else they would not be getting me off their hands so soon.”
Isabelle turned suddenly and kissed Eleanor swiftly on the cheek. “You are always so sad. I would wish you the same happiness that I know.”
Eleanor sighed. “I do not think that can ever be.”
“Edward will propose; give him time.”
Eleanor held her breath, as she thought about this prospect. She was certain that Edward still meant to have her as his wife, but she was no longer sure that she wanted him for a husband.
It was not to be hoped that they would leave the next day; it was too widely known that Edward’s sister and her friend were to stay for a week and more. There would be too many questions asked if they left too soon, but Eleanor hoped that the following day they would go.
Edward kept his distance and Eleanor stayed by Isabelle’s side with such tenacity that she thought that her friend must begin to believe that something was very wrong. Robert seemed to chafe the most under these new conditions. As Isabelle’s betrothed he had expected more freedom to meet her and make arrangements for their future life, but now she was accompanied by Eleanor and had told him that she would be returning to her parents sooner than expected.
Eleanor thought that she would rather have followed her former practice of going to St Michael’s with Sam in the mornings, but it was not fair to deprive the cook of the boy for so long. It seemed equally unfair to sit with Robert and Isabelle, who became increasingly uncomfortable with her presence.
That evening they were to dine at Robert’s house, so Edward joined them there. He was much more serious than usual and neither laughed nor smiled. Eleanor found though, that he looked at her frequently and sighed. Was he trying to tell her that he would miss her? She told herself to harden her heart. He had not behaved well and she could not pretend that he had not tried to seduce her into his bed.
After they had eaten, the four of them sat before the fire and talked about the Christmas feast and what they would do later to celebrate the marriage of Robert and Isabelle. Robert and Isabelle were so happy and Edward was so unhappy that Eleanor thought it must take some of their joy away, so she determined to be more cheerful and encouraged their happiness. Although Isabelle was always ready to be cheerful, Eleanor only had partial success. Edward’s mood had affected Robert, who was of a more melancholy disposition. He seemed happy, however, rather than otherwise, when they rose to leave.
As they walked to Edward’s house Edward said to her, “You do not ask why I am so unhappy this evening.”
“Doubtless because Isabelle and I are going away tomorrow.”
Eleanor could not keep the impatience out of her voice. It would be some time before Isabelle and Robert would see one another again and they would miss one another. Edward had spoilt their last evening together. No time had yet been mentioned for their departure, but Eleanor knew they must go tomorrow.
“It is because you are going away, Eleanor.”
Eleanor bit back the reply that it was entirely his fault that she was leaving and that he had been the first to say that she must go.
“I must go, you know that.” She had to be careful or Isabelle would ask questions. Edward had t
old his sister this evening that his business called him away, so he would accompany them home tomorrow and then go on to Winchester.
“I know that, but for my foolishness, you would stay here until Christmas.”
Christmas! Had that been his plan? Had it been hers?
“You do us both wrong to speak in this way.”
“How else can I speak, but to lay my heart before you? If I let you go in this way I might not get another chance to tell you that I want to marry you.”
Eleanor stopped walking. Isabelle, who was walking behind to give them some privacy bumped into her.
“Are you alright?”
“I’ve just asked Eleanor to marry me.”
“Oh, how wonderful.” Isabelle’s voice showed her joy at the answer she supposed Eleanor to have given.
“I have not accepted,” said Eleanor before Edward could say anything more.
“But you will?” Isabelle was suddenly uncertain.
“I must think about it.”
“At least you do not reject me out of hand.”
Eleanor wondered why she did not. How she yearned for peace and quiet to think, but even at Sir John’s house there would be noise and activity. How did people in the world ever make decisions?
“Come, it is too cold to stand here while a fire waits for us at home.”
Edward held out his arm for her and she took it.
“I do not ask for a decision now,” he said as they started walking again, “but I will ask you again.”
Eleanor wondered why she permitted the familiarity. Did she still wish to marry him? Could she really give up her vocation for a man who had so little control over himself?
“You and Edward have quarrelled, haven’t you?” said Isabelle as they lay in bed that night. “Is that why we’re going home?”
“I’m sorry, Isabelle. I did not mean to spoil your visit.”
“I doubt it’s your fault. Edward is very worldly. Is that the problem?”
Isabelle was more frank than Eleanor had expected and she did not know how to reply.
“He probably forgets that you are a nun,” continued Isabelle.
Eleanor was grateful; she did not know how to talk about this.
“I did not know what to expect. Everything is so strange to me.” That was the truth.
“A suitor should always behave with propriety, but sometimes they forget. Has he tried to kiss you?”
Tried? Should she not have allowed him to kiss her? Eleanor felt her face heat in embarrassment. She had gone wrong from the very first.
“He has kissed me.”
“Then he has behaved badly. You are not betrothed. But he does want to marry you, Eleanor. Men do seem to have stronger passions than we do.”
Isabelle was silent for a moment, then she said, “I would like very much to have you for a sister, but only if Edward behaves as you deserve.”
Isabelle fell asleep shortly after this pronouncement, but Eleanor lay awake thinking about men’s stronger passions. Was what Edward did any worse than what Henry had done simply because Henry had been asleep when he had held her so intimately? Had she enjoyed Henry’s touch because she had been awake and he had not? Henry’s desires had been the same as Edward’s. Henry’s self-control and sense of propriety were stronger than Edward’s, that was true, but Edward had spoken of marriage and had shown contrition.
Eleanor knew that she had no idea whether Henry was a good comparison. Isabelle seemed to consider Edward’s behaviour excessive, but what would she think if she knew that her friend had shared a bed with her other brother? Perhaps Isabelle was no judge either. She seemed to know about men’s passions, but had she experienced them? Robert did not strike her as particularly passionate and she doubted he had tried to kiss Isabelle. With a start Eleanor realised that she was trying to justify marrying Edward. She was choosing to lie in this bed for the rest of her life.
The next morning Edward rode with them back to his parents’ house. Sir John and Lady Mary were surprised, but happy to have Isabelle back.
Edward left after the midday meal. Eleanor walked with him to the stable to collect his horse.
“You dare to be alone with me, then?”
This made Eleanor angry. There were servants crossing the courtyard and William was in the stable looking at a horse that had gone lame that morning.
“We are hardly alone.”
Edward smiled ruefully. “You should have said that it was my fault that you would not be alone with me.”
“You have great pity for yourself, Edward, but, yes, it is your fault.”
Edward stopped walking and she saw anger on his face. He turned to face her.
“A man who didn’t want you would be stupid.”
Eleanor felt something die inside her and waited for a moment to see what had changed. When she knew what it was she understood what she was going to do.
“I do not hold it against you.”
Edward studied her face as if looking for a lie.
“You forgive me?”
“Not quite.”
“Then I may hope?”
Eleanor did not return his smile, but nor did she avoid the hand that stroked her face.
“If you wish.”
Edward nodded and turned away from her. She followed him into the stable, but they said no more and Eleanor sought out William to see if she could help with the horse.
Three days before Christmas Edward and Robert arrived. Robert was to stay until they left for Henry’s, but Edward was to travel with them. To Eleanor’s relief he did not immediately seek her out to be alone with her, but she knew that he would. In his absence she had reflected on her decision and it still held; she knew what she would say when he proposed.
That night they sang and danced. Edward seemed to understand that she would not know how to dance and explained the steps as they went along. She quickly understood what was required and followed him. She enjoyed it far more than she had expected. When they sat by the fire listening to Robert sing, Isabelle whispered to Eleanor, “Perhaps we shall have another proposal this evening.”
Eleanor shook her head. “No.” She did not bother to pretend not to understand what Isabelle meant; Edward continued to make his interest in her clear to anyone who cared to notice and she allowed the attention. She knew he would propose soon and she thought he would do it before they left to go to Henry’s house.
In this she was proved correct. After the entertainment everyone went to bed and Edward made no attempt to keep Eleanor with him. Even knowing that he would probably propose the following day, Eleanor slept well.
It was Eleanor’s habit to sit in the hall with Henry’s book of hours for an hour after she had broken her fast. No one bothered her during this time and the servants had been told to work in other parts of the house. When she had finished her prayers Eleanor would go and find Lady Mary and join her and Isabelle in whatever they were doing.
This morning she closed the book and ran a finger thoughtfully over the cover.
“That’s a fine book,” said Edward.
“It’s Henry’s. He lent it to me before he went away.”
Edward smiled, but Eleanor saw that it was false.
“My brother does not want you to forget that you are a nun.”
“Your brother knew how much I need quiet and prayer.” She had not meant her words to snap between them as much as they did. It seemed that Edward possessed the gift of annoying her in the same measure that he excited her. The physical distance between them for the last few days had at least given her the opportunity to consider his actions more calmly. She had also taken the opportunity to ask for advice from Philippa and Lady Mary. It had been difficult to do this without raising their suspicions, but much of the talk between the four of them recently had been to prepare Isabelle for her marriage and Eleanor’s own questions had been no more than would be expected from a nun who had so little experience of life outside of the convent, yet was possessed of a great c
uriosity now that her friend was marrying. She now understood that not all men had control of their passions and was more inclined to forgive Edward than she had been originally.
Edward leant against the wall by the door through which he had just entered.
“Will you still want quiet when we are married?”
Eleanor’s hear beat a little faster and her stomach twisted. “Is that your proposal?”
“Yes. We will do well together, don’t you think?”
Eleanor shook her head. “I don’t know. You would have to ask Mother Abbess.”
“You never took your vows.” Edward reminded her. “The decision is yours.”
Eleanor’s smile faded. “Then you must ask my brother’s heir.”
Edward’s smile broadened. “You are your brother’s heir.”
“No. There is a cousin. Stephen.”
“A cousin!”
Eleanor was surprised by the passion and fury in his voice.
“Yes. Philip told me that he would name our cousin as his heir. If he left his property to me it would go to the convent and he had little time for the sisters.” She paused as she remembered, once again, what Edward had told her about Philip’s opinion of her vocation. Now she knew enough to believe that this was probably true and she was saddened.
“A cousin,” repeated Edward pensively. “In Devon?”
“Yes, I haven’t seen him since I was a child. Henry said that he would send a messenger to tell him of Philip’s death.”
Edward stepped away from the wall. “And if I sent to this cousin and asked for his permission, would you agree?”
Eleanor looked into his face, trying to gauge his intent. Then she smiled. “I think I should like it very much.”
Edward bent over her and caught a hand up to his lips.
“I shall try to make you happy.”
“I do not ask for happiness,” she said, “only for a home and your company.”
“Which I shall gladly give you.”
It was only when he kissed her that Eleanor realised he had not told her that he loved her. She was not sure why this disappointed her; she knew that love was not necessary for a marriage to be successful and often came later, as it had with Sir John and Lady Mary and with William and Philippa. She also knew that she did not love Edward and nor had he asked her for her love. He had spoken of desire, of excitement and travel, but there was nothing of love in his discourse.