Telepathy of Hearts (15 page)

Matheus was calming. Shaking his head at the gathered maids he pondered. Why did women go so doe-
like and daft? One minute they had the sense almost of a man and next the fancies of a fool.

As always he was blissfully unaware of the affect he had on women. The maids looked quite disheartened as he told them he would undress and bathe alone.

“For that is truly a shame,
” one maid said to another, giggling

“I have to bathe the Earl and when I heard there was a Bull to bathe my heart did fair rally.
”

“
Count yourself lucky, for not all the beasts we get to bathe are bulls like this one.
” Laughing so hard her breasts jiggled she continued,
“For I got the Old Goat, the Earl of Leicester and there was a thing a rising and a floating in the tub I tell you that would terrify a whore.
”

Matheus interrupted their lewd mutterings.
“Be
gon
e
now and take your fish-
wife ways and sharp tongues with you.
”

The maids flushed. But only a little. The realisation that the Lincoln Bull had heard them speak so sweetly of him embarrassed him a lot less than it did them.

Matheus undressed. First his boots, sword belt and hose. Struggling with his doublet he wished he had bid the maids stay. Snoring and drunk, his squire was no help either so he continued as best he could. Gripping his shirt and pulling it over his head, he felt the moisture of Eleanor
's tears as they had wet his shirt back.

Oh dear God,
his heart sighed.
When did I get so cruel?
His head replied sharply
.
Because you are a knight of the King, doing his bidding and yield to you she must.

Laying in the tub he soaked his sore muscles and eased his bones. His body was stiff from days of riding.

If only
the aching of the heart could be as easily soothed. There was no use in it, so why do I invest in such emotion. They won
't save me in battle nor feed my belly.

* * * *

The feast was spectacular. Mother Bear could not be bettered as a host. She was especially famed for her sugar subtleties. They were shaped into castles and birds, and the sight of them was greeted by applause.

Nobles are like pigs
for they gobble and gl
u
t until their stomachs strain.
Matheus
'
s gaze followed the table, and he shook his head at the abundance of fine food at the feast. Suckling pigs and peacocks were surrounded by every d
e
light imaginable. Ale and wine flowed as if Bacchus himself was the founder of the feast.

In a room full of sustenance there was only one sight Matheus feasted on. And that was Eleanor. She was food for his soul. His body felt refreshed from its soaking. But his heart still ached just at the sight of her.

Dressed in the most elegant finery, she would have been just as beautiful in a jute sack. There was not a maid in the country to compare. Long coils of her golden hair were dressed with emerald ribbons. Her veiling was so delicate it was as if the mountain mists had settled about her.

All tha
t glittered, all that dazzled, t
he trappings of wealth decorating her neck and lobes could not compare. To the natural beauty of her hazel eyes caught in the tallow light the amber burnt brighter, the gold glowed deeper and the emerald sparkled. The eyes that enchanted him spoke now of sorrow. She sat as if she was an exotic caged bird, grieving for its freedom
.
Her song had left her and her head hung low.

There was a part of Matheus that enjoyed the sight of her subdued and broken. Once again he felt his heart dis
a
greeing with his head. Fee
ling the sharp pang of regret, h
is heart scold
ed
him for those thoughts.

“My Lady, I have signed. I can now call you wife. Will you dance with me? The quadrille is to be played in celebr
a
tion.
” Taking her hand up to his mouth, he brushed
her
knuckles across his lips and smiled across her fingers with the lightest of intimacies.

Guiding her,
he took her elbow, a
nd she rose. His hand stroked the length of her arm, settled on her waist and pulled her forward into his embrace. He settled a kiss on the top of her hair and breathed in the
scented
beauty of her.

Raising her head and stepping back, trying to pull from the cradle of his hold, she met his eyes. Silently he spoke to her.
“I will try to treat you as what you are, a fearful cre
a
ture
,
wild and beautiful.
Perhaps I can calm you, Eleanor
.
”

Looking at him she furrowed her brow in question, her nose wrinkling as she did so.

“Are you trying to read my thoughts
…wife?
”

Eleanor remained silent but kept his stare.

Smiling broadly, he continued.
“I like the word wife when I use it about you. The way your nose wrinkles when you frown. I love your pout. There is so much for us to learn about each other
.
”

“Is there is something you like, perhaps love even about me?
Come
,
let
's dance
,
and pray call me husband
…please.
”

Eleanor replied in a soft timbre, there was no challenge to her voice. Just the sorry sound of resignation.
“I am not a witch like Mother Bear. I cannot know what you think, my Lord.
Perhaps that is best. As for what I like about you, probably the sound of your heavy footsteps as you leave my presence.
”

Matheus flushed.

Lifting her hand, she said quietly,
“
Pray let me continue
;
I rather like the ride you gave me.
And n
ot the one slung over your shoulder gawped at by your men.
”

He nodded for her to continue. Matheus began to break into a smile as he reflected on that delicious thought.

“When you kicked Simon into a battle charge, I liked that very much. In fact it thrilled me.
” Eleanor grinned as she spoke.

Matheus bowed and Eleanor curtseyed. The assembled group clapped for the couple and the Old Earl raised his cup.
“To my children, Matheus and Eleanor. Son
,
may you put life in the belly of my dear daughter.
” Tears started to well in the old Earl
's eyes.
“And daughter
,
be the wife to your hu
s
band that your mother was to me.
”

Flute, drum and lute started to fill the hall with music. The guests held hands in a circle. But to Matheus it was if he was alone with her. For there was only her sound, her bea
u
ty. He watched her every move. Laughter filled his ears
—
her laughter. Sensual scents filled his nostrils
—
her scent.

An expression of wonderment spread across her face. The cold stillness of her eyes seemed to melt upon the heat of his skin. It was a sensation from the gods
,
for there was no other way to describe it. Eleanor was looking at him. Not a peek, nor a glimpse
—she was really looking
at him. Her eyes explored him, t
aking in every detail of his face. She searched his features and cocked her head to the side. Her lips parted and she
silently
mouthed
,
you
.

Spun in the group, his face lost sight of hers. Eleanor had left the group and was moving back to her seat. Apol
o
gising to the dancers, Matheus moved quickly to her side.

“You dance well, my Lord,
” Eleanor said nervously. Her head low and her brow still creased in question.

Laughing lightly, he took her face in his hands. Stretc
h
ing his thumb to caress her lips.
“Well, we have established that we have the foundations of a great union because you like my horse and you like my dancing.
” Tipping her chin, he forced her eyes to look at him and he soothed her.
“What is it
,
Eleanor? What troubles you
?
”

Pulling her lip into her mouth, nibbling the seam, she looked back at him.
“Many years ago I met a boy knight. He came to my aid, saving me from my uncle
,
the King
's
,
hound. Wielding his wooden sword, he moved so lightly.
” Her eyes searched his.

Matheus sensed the intensity, she was looking straight into his soul.

Softly she muttered,
“It was as if he
danced
. The boy knight
…my Lord, he was you.
”

He traced her spine with just the tips of his fingers. She quivered in response. Matheus cocked his head. He was u
n
sure of Eleanor
's reaction.

It is easier to read the eyes of your assailant in battle than a maid.

Greeting her gaze with a crooked smile he responded,
“Yes
,
Eleanor it was me. I was, am that knight.
”

Swallowing she looked at him quizzically.
“Oh I see
—and me? Did you recognise me
? H
ave you known all along?
”

A loose curl fell upon her face. Raising his hand, Matheus got there first. Smoothing the hair back from her face, he said,
“I knew it to be you the moment I saw you, E
l
eanor, sitting at the King
's knee.
”

“
'Tis time for your leave, ladies,
” bellowed the old Earl.

Goody came and collected her
babe
and E
leanor was soon lost from him, d
eep in the throng of the ladies who left the great hall.

“Now
,
for whores and ale,
” the old Earl shouted.