“Nonsense!” the abbess said brusquely. “It’s
highly irregular but not impossible. You will go and then you will
come back.”
But the icy fingers of the nightmare clutched
at her heart. She felt that if she went, she would never return.
“What if I refuse?”
The abbess stared at her with an astonishment
which rapidly became anger. “You cannot,” she answered in a cold
voice. “This isn’t a matter open to discussion. You must do what
you’re bid.”
Another sleepless night and then a hard day
of traveling. Eleanor wasn’t used to riding and the last horse
she’d been on was the one that had brought her to Elstow nine
months earlier. Her muscles soon ached from the constant effort of
having to cling to the belt of the groom in front of her and trying
to keep her balance. She was too shy to complain, with the result
that they did not stop often for rest. But the physical discomfort
was nothing next to her mental anxiety. What on earth did her
father want with her? She could not possibly imagine. If she had
been Gwalaes, she thought self-critically, she would simply have
questioned the guards or the groom despite the abbess having told
her she’d already done so and received no answers. Perhaps they
would tell her what they wouldn’t tell the abbess. But she
couldn’t.
They reached Oakby shortly after dusk.
Eleanor was exhausted and when she was helped to the ground, almost
collapsed because her sore legs very nearly did not support her.
Sir Thomas wasn’t in the ward to meet her but his steward was; or
rather, the man glanced in her direction to content himself that
the correct girl had indeed been fetched back and then he
disappeared into the hall.
She stood for a moment and looked around.
Only half the torches supported by rusty iron sconces which lined
the perimeter of the ward were lit and the stench of dung filled
the air, leading her to believe the shadows were hiding what the
careless stablehands had overlooked. It was quiet. The abbey was
usually quiet as well, but not in this cheerless, cold way, as if
the buildings were deserted. She shuddered. She wished she could
steal a horse and fly straight back to Elstow.
“Eleanor?” She whirled around and there was
Gwalaes. Even after all the months that had passed, Gwalaes looked
exactly the same. She was an immensely comforting sight. Eleanor’s
lip started to tremble and tears came into her eyes.
“Gwalaes!” she exclaimed.
With a little laugh, Gwalaes
ran down the steps and into Eleanor’s arms. They hugged each other
happily. “You looked so different, I didn’t know if you had become
another person,” Gwalaes told her. “It seems
ages
since you went away. How was it?
Did you like it? Have you missed me? Oh, I’ve missed you so much!
You don’t know how boring it is without you!”
Eleanor was pleased by Gwalaes’ delight in
seeing her again. She decided there was no reason to let the other
girl know that once she’d fallen into the routines at Elstow, she
had stopped thinking about anyone or anything at Oakby.
“I love the life at the abbey, Gwalaes,” she
said. “But I wish you could be there with me.”
Gwalaes made a face. “Me a nun? Not in a
million years! At least, not as long as your brother walks the
earth.”
“Still harping on that chord, are you?”
Eleanor shook her head, smiling.
“I can’t believe what I’m doing!” Gwalaes
suddenly exclaimed. “You must be hungry—come inside! Go up to your
chamber. I’ll bring you water to wash and a meal. The seamstresses
are coming tomorrow—two of them, can you believe it? And your
father is actually spending money for musicians! Oh, Eleanor, it’s
going to be marvelous. I envy you!”
Eleanor felt cold. “What are you talking
about, Gwalaes? What’s going to be marvelous? And what do I need
with seamstresses and musicians?”
“Your brother specifically requested
musicians. I’m sure your father wouldn’t have them otherwise but
you know he can’t refuse Robert the least thing. And—oh!—I forgot!”
Gwalaes’ expression turned dramatic and she took hold of the other
girl’s arm. “Eleanor, your cousin arrived three days ago. Alan
d’Arques is his name. He’s squire to Robert and almost as handsome!
I promise as soon as you’re settled, I’ll bring him up to meet you.
He’s so much fun to talk to!”
“Gwalaes, stop!
Please
. Just tell me why
my father summoned me back to Oakby.”
Gwalaes stared at her in confusion. “You
don’t know?”
“
Know what?
”
“Alan brought word that
Robert and a small party will arrive in a fortnight. Robert gave
your father specific instructions about fixing up the manor, hiring
musicians, cleaning out your chamber for his guest, having a
wardrobe made for you…things like that.” Eleanor’s face was still
blank and she added, “They’re all preparations for
you
, Eleanor. For your
marriage!”
There didn’t seem to be anything she could do
to prevent it. Neither Sir Thomas nor his steward came forward to
make a formal announcement to Eleanor; it was left to the girls to
glean what information they could from servants’ gossip and Alan
d’Arques’ scant knowledge.
Her brother had arranged everything but it
was her father with whom Eleanor was impotently angry. After all,
Sir Thomas had assured her he would honor her mother’s dying wish.
She had always known that he doted to excess on Robert and hadn’t
even begrudged it because her brother was his heir but she had
never expected it to infringe on her life. From the distance of the
abbey, she’d come to realize that she had endured a childhood
bereft of his attention and affection and although it hadn’t
bothered her at the time because Gwalaes’ mother had been there,
now she felt it. But when, at last, he’d made an effort on her
behalf—the first and only one—he was taking her back. Now she felt
betrayed.
“At least,” Gwalaes said consolingly once
they had glimpsed the man Eleanor was to marry, “he’s not old and
decrepit like your father.”
From Eleanor’s window, they watched a train
of horsemen trot sedately into the small ward and surmised that
Eleanor’s betrothed was the knight riding next to her brother.
“My God!” Alan d’Arques exclaimed. “It’s the
earl of Chester!” He looked at Eleanor with new respect. “You
couldn’t make a better marriage alliance unless you married a son
of the king himself!”
Eleanor wasn’t at all impressed. “It probably
isn’t him. It’s probably that dark, angry man behind him.”
Gwalaes turned to the two of them, horrified.
“No! Say that’s not true, Alan!”
“I keep telling you I don’t know anything!
Sir Robert gave me a sealed letter and told me to make haste to
Oakby—nothing more!”
“Hmph!” Gwalaes snorted. “You might have
opened the letter. This is practically a matter of life or
death!”
That started friendly bickering over the
morality and legality of breaking seals. Eleanor was aware of
something more than mere words flying between the two and felt
uncomfortably in the way. She thought with dismay that Gwalaes
spoke easily with Alan; indeed, now that she thought back, Gwalaes
had always had the knack of chatting to young men. She herself
hadn’t. How, then, could she make a successful marriage? And to a
man whom she’d never before seen? The very idea made her shiver.
She told herself it was impossible; she could not marry. She would
have to somehow convince her father to return her to the abbey.
But she never had a chance. Earl Hugh had
much to recommend him as a potential husband; aside from his
obvious attributes of wealth and position, Sir Thomas thought his
finest one was his willingness to accept Eleanor sight unseen.
Still, Elstow had been promised a good deal when it took Eleanor in
as a novice and Sir Thomas had no doubt the abbess would make a
determined attempt to collect or appeal to the king. So even though
the match was overwhelmingly favorable to the Bolsovers, he
wouldn’t have agreed to it if Robert hadn’t endorsed it.
Although what she was bringing to the union,
the marriage portion given to Hugh by her father, was paltry,
Eleanor Bolsover didn’t come cheap. Her brother had negotiated a
handsome cash price for her hand which Hugh was to pay to Sir
Thomas at the time of the wedding ceremony and the earl also agreed
to invest Robert with property worth two knights’ fees. Sir Thomas
was happy to see his son making his fortune in the world. A marital
connection with one of the most powerful men in the kingdom could
only augur good for Robert Bolsover.
After Mass the morning after his arrival, Sir
Thomas summoned Eleanor to the hall to meet the earl. Despite the
feverish work of the seamstresses, she was dressed in the same
plain woolen gown in which she’d traveled from the abbey. He was
annoyed. Robert would think that he hadn’t followed the
instructions in his letter.
She barely looked up when she entered and
hung hesitantly near the rear stairwell so that he had to snap at
her to move further towards the group of men. Robert presented her
to the earl and she curtsied.
“For God’s sake, Eleanor, raise your head!”
Sir Thomas said sharply. “Perhaps Earl Hugh would like to see what
he’s getting!”
“Oh, women’s faces don’t matter to the earl,
Father,” Robert laughed, winking at Hugh. “Only their ability to
churn out heirs.”
“Of course, of course,” Sir Thomas agreed
instantly. “Well, Eleanor was just sixteen, my lord, and you can
see for yourself she’s in excellent health. Very strong.”
“Aren’t you going to say anything, Eleanor?”
Robert asked. There was a hint of humor in his voice, as though
there were some joke being played that only he knew about. “So high
an honor…Earl Hugh could have had any woman he wanted but he chose
you.”
Eleanor’s eyes crept up to the earl’s face
with a slight, puzzled frown. The men stared at her, obviously
waiting for her to express her fervent thanks. She opened her mouth
and stammered: “I’m—I’m most honored, my lord…” Then her gaze
shifted to her father and she added, in a rush, “But I’m promised
to the church. The abbey at Elstow. It was my mother’s dying wish—”
She broke off with a cry of pain. Sir Thomas had stepped quickly
forward and slapped her face.
“How dare you shame my house like this!” he
shouted at her, his own face blood red with fury. Eleanor’s hand
flew to her cheek in disbelief. Her father had never before hit
her. “You haven’t taken any vows! You’re still mine to dispose of!
Your brother has arranged a tremendous opportunity for you; you
ought to be grateful. Do you think if your mother was alive she
would hesitate one instant to seize it? Do you?” She shook her head
mutely. “Pay your respects to Earl Hugh again and get out. You can
remain in your chamber until the day you’re called to Chester!”
Eleanor curtsied to Hugh and fled the hall.
Sir Thomas turned to his guest. “I must apologize, my lord—”
“Don’t worry, Father,” Robert said
cheerfully. “The earl likes pious women, don’t you, my lord?
They’re less likely to get in his way and are easier than others to
persuade to perform their procreative duties.”
Gwalaes jumped up with excitement when
Eleanor entered the room but her hopeful grin died away after one
glance at her friend’s pale face. “Is he older than he looked from
afar?” she asked.
“No,” Eleanor answered shortly.
Gwalaes didn’t like her
morose expression. “It
is
the earl, isn’t it? It’s not that angry man you
pointed out yesterday is it?”
“It’s really the earl.”
Gwalaes peered at her. “Well…did he say
something nasty to you?”
“No. He didn’t say anything at all.”
“Why not? Can’t he talk?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s wrong with you, Eleanor? He’s not
old, he wasn’t nasty to you, he’s an earl and you’re going to be
countess of Chester. It’s absolutely wonderful!”
“I’d rather be a nun than a countess!” she
retorted bitterly. “It’s what was promised me!”
Gwalaes took her firmly by the forearms.
“Eleanor, your fate has changed. It’s not going to go away unless
something horrible happens to the earl on his way back to Chester
so you might as well make the best of it. Maybe you only liked
Elstow because it wasn’t Oakby. Chester won’t be at all like Oakby,
either. Alan says it’s a great place—”
“Has Alan ever been there?”
“Well, no, but the earl’s right hand man, Sir
Roger, told him much about it. It’s huge and built of red sandstone
and when the setting sun hits it, it glows as though it’s on fire.
Doesn’t that sound pretty?”
Eleanor stared at her, mouth downturned,
unconvinced. Gwalaes jiggled her arms. “All right, then, think of
this: I couldn’t go with you to Elstow, but I can go with you to
Chester. We can be together! You must promise to take me, Eleanor.
I’ve been absolutely miserable here on my own!”
A small smile bent the corners of the other
girl’s mouth. “You just want to go where Robert goes…”
Gwalaes dropped her arms and wrinkled her
nose. “I’ve given up on Robert. He talks too much.”
“Alan’s quieter,” Eleanor said
innocently.
“Not as handsome but at
least he speaks to me,” Gwalaes grinned. “But, Eleanor, let me come
to Chester so I can look after you. It’s what
my
mother wanted, remember? She told
me to take care of you. After all, I’m your elder by two months.”
She watched Eleanor’s face intently, saw her expression soften at
the suggestion that at least one mother’s dying wish would be
fulfilled and pressed her advantage in a casual voice. “Surely
there must have been something pleasing about the earl…”
“There was,” Eleanor agreed shyly. “He has
the most beautiful blue eyes.”