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Authors: April Munday

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BOOK: The Winter Love
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He looked her directly in her eyes and his expression was open and contrite. Could it be possible that Edward was changing because of her?
She hardly dared hope that it was so.

He seemed to expect her to
say something, but she could not imagine what.

“I would kneel and beg your forgiveness, but I would prefer not to draw attention to what I have done
, since it is not known. But I do beg your forgiveness. Eleanor, will you forgive me and give me another chance?”

Eleanor remembered how he had touched her on the ship when they had come from Devon and how he had tried to get to her the first night she had spent under his roof.

“I do not know,” she said. “I can forgive you, with our Lord’s help, but to give you another chance requires more than I have in me now.”

She examined his face for any sign of the anger she expected to see there.
His expression did not change. He merely nodded and said, “That is fair. I cannot expect otherwise.”

They sat in silence for a while and Eleanor thought about what Edward had said. It spoke well that he had been the first to say that she must leave his house, but was he sincere?
She could not tell.

 

That evening they went to the house of one of the wealthiest merchants in the town. His house was large and well-appointed. “I even have a small library,” he boasted after he had greeted them.

“I should very much like to see that,” said Eleanor. A
library was indeed a treasure and showed the man’s wealth.

“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, “a
nd 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 told 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 a
s 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.

BOOK: The Winter Love
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