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Authors: April Munday

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BOOK: The Winter Love
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When she had recovered herself she saw that the others were looking
at her expectantly and Eleanor thought at first that her reaction had been inappropriate and they disapproved. Then Robert said gently, “Will you sing or tell a tale, Sister Margaret?”

She
wondered what they thought she would sing. There must have been songs before the convent, but she could remember none of them. It would have to be a psalm and it would have to be a psalm that could be managed by one voice. She chose a psalm of praise so that they might reflect on something more positive than the adulterous couple Isabelle had conjured up for them. She could not remember singing alone and she had certainly never sung as entertainment, so she reminded herself that she was singing to God and not to them.

Her voice sounded strange in her own ears. She was used to hearing it blend with those of the other nuns.
It was not a pleasant sensation, but she made her way through the song without stumbling.

“That was well done,” said Robert appreciatively.

Eleanor smiled, “Thank you.”

“That seems like a good place to end our evening,” said Edward and they all stood to say goodnight to Robert.

Then Edward said goodnight to Eleanor and his sister and retired to his chamber at the back of the house. Although Eleanor missed his kiss, she was very tired and relieved to be able to go straight to bed. Isabelle seemed torn between sitting in the hall and talking about Robert with Eleanor and going to bed after their tiring day. They never talked in bed as Eleanor prayed and Isabelle was always asleep by the time she lay down beside her.

“I will sit up with you for a short time only,” said Eleanor, stifling a yawn. “I was not made to spend half a day on the back of a horse and then entertain a demanding guest like Robert.”

“He is not demanding,” said Isabelle, as Eleanor had known she must. “He is the least demanding of all men.” Her defence continued for a long time, but Eleanor was careful to ensure that they were abed shortly after.

 

Now that it was too late in the year for the ships to leave port, the merchants contented themselves with visiting one another’s homes. Eleanor learned that Edward was not welcome everywhere, whilst Robert seemed to be the friend of his competitors as well as those whose trades had nothing to do with his own.

Edward’s only comment when she
asked him about the invitations he did not receive was that these merchants were jealous that he had been so successful so early. He had not come from a merchant family, but had found that he enjoyed going with his father and William to market and could sell at a higher price than either of them and buy at a lower.  His father had indentured him to a wine merchant and, seeing how easily he made money, helped him to buy the old merchant’s business. The old man had had no family and had gladly parted with it. Edward had exceeded his plans each year and, now that the French had been so soundly beaten, trade would improve and his business would grow even more.

One evening they
visited the home of Alonso, the spice trader. Eleanor became very tired, for these evenings demanded great concentration. There was so much that everyone took for granted, but that she didn’t know. She had to watch them carefully in order to decide how she would react. Then there were the wonderful stories and songs. These were familiar to the other guests, but new to Eleanor. She took it all in and saved up her questions for Edward and Isabelle.

Edward was as accommodating as he always was when they were in someone else’s house. He never stayed so close that that he oppressed her by his constant presence, no
r so far away that he was not close if she needed him. She appreciated this consideration, recognising that she would have to make her own way if she was to stay with him, making friends of the merchants and their wives.

It had been a more demanding evening than usual, for there had been some merchants there who Edward wished to impress. Apprised of his plans, Eleanor and Isabelle had been happy to assist him. Isabelle could be relied on in such situations. Although neither she nor Edward had been brought up to this life, they had an ease that charmed their companions. Eleanor felt that once people knew that she had lived most of her life in the convent, they knew everything about her and conversation became difficult.
Despite this, she spent some time talking to Alonso, for his sister was a nun at the abbey in Romsey.

Later,
Edward, Isabelle and Eleanor walked back through the quiet streets to Edward’s house. Even Isabelle was quiet at last as she thought about the discussion she had had with Robert about how they would arrange the servants after they were married. She went straight to the bedchamber at the front of the house, but Eleanor was slow enough for Edward to detain her.

“You had a pleasant evening, I trust.”

“Yes, Alonso’s company and his house are very agreeable.”

“Perhaps you find meeting my friends more interesting than you thought.”

“It was not that I expected not to find them interesting, just that there are so many of them. I should like to get to know better the people I know already before I meet more strangers.”

Edward hesitated
and she thought he had heard some unintended insult “It will not always be like this. My friends will be your friends. You will know them as intimately as anyone you knew before.” She thought back to the convent. Could it be said that she had truly been known intimately there?

Edward took a step toward her. She knew what he wanted and it was becoming easier to let him kiss her each time. Now she said nothing as he cupped her cheek. She surprised them both by turning her head and kissing his palm. Then he pulled her to him and kissed her mouth. For the first time she thought that his might be what she wanted. She responded. She had learned how to do what he enjoyed and, once she had found her own enjoyment, she had discovered how to encourage him to give the pleasure he demanded.

As the kiss intensified, she felt it through her whole body and it was no longer enough for her to respond with her lips and her hands. Her body pressed against his, but he was hard and unyielding and she had to move to find the satisfaction that she craved. Edward drew back a little and she wondered if she had done wrong, then she knew that she had not. Breathless now she traced his lower lip with her thumb. She didn’t allow herself to think, but kissed him. Something changed in Edward and he moved in a new way. Then she felt a strong sensation at her breast. With horror she realised that Edward’s hand was on her breast. Before she had time to register pleasure or any other emotion, she slapped his face.

The
blow was strong enough to bring him to his senses and he stood panting for a moment before he could look at her.

Eleanor felt tears of anger and disappointment on her face

“How dare you!” she shouted. “Do you think to have your way with me here for all the world to see?”

“I was carried away, Eleanor. Your kiss is so intoxicating.”


Stop! Do not say such things. How can I kiss you if you cannot control yourself?” Her voice cracked in her despair. Was it not enough for him that she had accepted his kisses willingly or even that she had kissed him?

She had learned enough to know that there were women who would welcome such attention from him, but she had not thought she had given him cause to think her one of them.

“Eleanor, I’m sorry. It will not happen again.”


No. I cannot be alone with you again.”

She turned and ran to the bedchamber,
fearful that, in her inexperience, she had somehow led him to believe that she would welcome him in her bed.

 

Once in the bedchamber, Eleanor sank to the floor. It seemed her first judgement of Edward had been correct; he was not to be trusted.  He appeared to have no control over himself and no desire for self-control.

His behaviour recently had given every in
dication that he was changed, for he had been courteous and amiable. Now she wondered whether she ought to find some way of blocking the door in case he should try to let himself into the bedchamber. The curtain that separated it from the gallery would provide no protection should he decide to try. Would even Isabelle’s presence deter him? She took a deep breath.  Of course it would. Whatever he might think of her, he would not want to behave in this way in front of his sister. From now on Eleanor was determined not be alone with him and she would try to persuade Isabelle to return to her parents’ house as soon as possible.

She stayed
where she was to pray, listening all the time for Edward’s step in the gallery. Eventually she grew too cold and crawled into bed beside Isabelle. She hoped Isabelle had been asleep when she had burst into the room, otherwise there would be awkward questions in the morning.

The night was
long and Eleanor slept little. Her mind was a whirl of unpleasant thoughts and she knew no rest, although she was careful to ensure that she did not disturb Isabelle by turning too much.

When Sarah came in to lay out their clothes
just before dawn Eleanor got out of bed; there seemed little point in remaining there when she was awake. She dressed quickly and told Sarah that she would wait until Isabelle was ready to go into the hall to break her fast. Sarah nodded and left her with a lighted candle. It was dark as night, although it was now past dawn. Eleanor took out the little book of hours and passed a comforting hour working her way through the morning prayers and psalms.

She had found some kind of peace by the time Isabelle awoke. Out of consideration for Eleanor’s prayers
, Isabelle had grown used to moving around quietly in the morning. As always, Eleanor was grateful for her friend’s sensitivity and lost herself once more in one of the painstakingly illuminated pages. It was only when she caught herself tracing the outline of one of the letters with her finger that she closed the book with a small sigh.

Isabelle
smiled at her. “Why do your prayers always end with a sigh?”

Eleanor
started; she had not known that Isabelle had paid such close attention to her. Nor had she known that she sighed.

“It is always hard to come back from the throne of God.”

She dared not look at Isabelle, afraid that her friend would know that she was being less than truthful.

 

Edward was not in the hall when they went to eat and all Sarah could tell them was that he had left the house early that morning and had left no word about when he would return. Eleanor made an effort to talk cheerfully with Isabelle as usual. She felt sometimes that she was repaying Isabelle for her early morning silence, but more often she was interested in what Isabelle wanted to talk about. This morning she would rather have gone back to the little book, so the conversation was difficult.

Isabelle
was, as always, content to carry more than her fair share of the conversation, although Eleanor was sure that she noticed her friend’s distraction and was troubled by it. Edward’s absence disturbed his sister and it could not have been difficult for her to add her brother’s disappearance to Eleanor’s changed manner and come to the conclusion that something had changed for the worse between them. Eleanor was grateful for Isabelle’s good manners, which prevented her from asking outright what the problem was.

They spent the morning toget
her sewing and still Edward did not appear. Isabelle listened constantly for his step on the stair, or a messenger, but no one came.

In the afternoon
, accompanied by Sam, the two women walked to Robert’s house where they sat and span with his younger sister. Eleanor was grateful to have something to do with her hands that she could do well and Anne was happy to have someone with her who did not scold her when she broke the yarn or did not turn the wheel at the right speed. To Eleanor’s relief there was little conversation; Anne needed a lot of help and explanation and Isabelle was distracted by Robert’s frequent, but short, visits to the room where they were working.

Robert walked back with them and Eleanor saw Edward for the first time
that day as he sat down with them at the evening meal. He was pale enough for Isabelle to remark on it, but he waved her questions away.

“We will talk of it later,” was all he would say.

Edward’s mood set the tone for the meal and it seemed to Eleanor that Robert was even more keen than usual to sit in one corner of the room with Isabelle, leaving her and Edward to sit by the fire.

Edward brought her a
beaker of wine and sat beside her, but not near enough to touch as he usually did. Eleanor had decided that she would not embarrass him in front of his sister and his guest, but that she would be cool and when Isabelle went to bed she would join her.

“You know that I have much to apologise for,” Edward began quietly so that only she could hear. “But I hope you will forgive me for going to God before I come to you.”

Eleanor was surprised; she had not seen any sign of real piety in Edward before this. It was one of the things that had made her uncertain about becoming his wife.

“I went to the priest this morning and confessed and he gave me a penance, of which we will
not speak. I am truly sorry, Eleanor, for my actions last night. Father Timothy and I have discussed how I should behave from now on and I must not be alone with you again and you should return to my father’s house as soon as Isabelle can be made to go. He showed me that I am harming your reputation and I will not do that. I can tell from Isabelle’s behaviour that you have not told her what happened and I’m grateful.”

BOOK: The Winter Love
3.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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