The Winter Love (13 page)

“I am used to working hard in the convent. We do not have servants to do everything for us and that is how it should be. We are God’s servants and should not be served.”

“Whilst you are in my father’s house you must get used to being served. You may come to like it.”

Edward smiled and she was struck again by how handsome he was. His face looked more normal today, although it would be some time before his full good looks returned. Realising that he still held her hands, Eleanor drew them into her lap. A servant brought her wine and she took a few hesitant sips.

“Will you stay much longer?”

“Do you wish to be rid of me so soon?”

Eleanor blushed at her own rudeness. “No, I meant merely that you have been away from your business for a long time and there must be much to do.”

“There is, but I have also been away from my mother and father and it would not show them the proper respect if my visit were so short.”
Eleanor knew that she was meant to hear the implied criticism of Henry, but she understood that he had been away from his manor much longer than Edward had been away from his shop.  Philippa had told her yesterday that they were surprised that Henry had intended to stay longer than one night, since they were to go to him at Christmas.

Eleanor looked away. She was not used to making conversation alone with a man; it had seemed so much easier with the taciturn Henry. Edward caught her chin and
turned her face back towards him. “And there is, of course, the added attraction of your presence.”

Eleanor gasped. A door opened and closed somewhere and Edward dropped his hand as Henry came into the hall. He scowled when he saw Edward sitting with Eleanor, but passed
though the hall quickly. He returned shortly with a cup of warm spiced wine and sat on Eleanor’s other side.

“Have you nothing to do, Edward?” he asked as he stretched his legs out towards the fire.

“Not a thing,” replied his brother.

“I’m glad to hear it,” said William, entering the hall
carrying two large buckets. “Take one of these for me.”

Edward looked at Henry.
“Don’t look at me,” said Henry. “Even if my shoulder were completely healed, I would still not stop you making some contribution to your keep.”

“Is Edward lazy?” asked a horrified Eleanor when they were alone
, then blushed again as she realised that she had asked another rude question. She had grown used to saying or asking the first thing that came to mind when she was with Henry.

“Not at all, but I am stronger and I
normally help William with the heavy work when I’m here. But I am still angry with him and tired of all his jibes about my seasickness, so I thought I’d leave him to it.”

“And your shoulder?”

“Aches,” admitted Henry.

“You should not have lifted me onto Solomon.”

“But you enjoyed yourself, so that is worth a bit of discomfort. I wish I could make you smile more, Eleanor.”

“I do not think you have to smile all the time to be content.”

“But you are not content.”

“No, not now, but I’m sure I will be again.”

“I think it will be hard here for you and it grieves me.”

“Edward says I must sew
.”

“You say that as if it were a punishment.”

“It is. I was not allowed to sew at the convent; my hands are too clumsy.”

Henry’s laugh surprised Eleanor. She had thought he might not laugh often, but this was not the laugh of a man who laughed despite himself. He must laugh a lot when he had the ease to do so.

“Do not worry, my mother and Philippa will find many ways for you to be useful and they do not have to include sewing.”

“Then I shall be content. If only you would leave Solomon with me.” She sighed a false sigh and Henry laughed
again.

“You are very much like your brother
. He also coveted my horse.”

“I do not covet him to possess him, only for companionship.”

“You shall have my family for that. They will love you as...” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “as a daughter, if you give them a chance.”

“I should like that.” There was peace and quiet at the convent, but not much love. Eleanor could barely remember her mother, but she knew that she had not been like Mother Abbess. Perhaps Lady Mary would be a model for her.

Henry drained his cup and stood. “I’m afraid I cannot spend the day talking with you, there must be work for me to do.”

“Please sit a while longer. I do not think anyone will grudge you a bit more rest for your shoulder’s sake.”

Henry stared at his boots for a moment. When he looked at her again his face was serious.

“I am not very good at taking my ease.”

“Then let us both practise together for a while longer.”

Henry sat again and they were still there when the servants started to prepare the hall for the midday meal.

Over the next two days
Lady Mary and Sir John made Eleanor feel welcome and she began to feel that she had known them for a long time. She told them much about herself and kept no secrets from them. It was a few days before she felt comfortable in their house, but things became much easier when Isabelle returned two days after Eleanor’s arrival, for Henry’s young sister was close to Eleanor’s own age and, despite a mischievous spirit, was a sensible, hard-working young woman who accepted an unknown nun into the house as readily as she would an old friend.

Each morning
Eleanor went with Henry to Mass in the village just as it was getting light. William, Philippa and Lady Mary went with them. This was a happy time for Eleanor, as she had missed the comforts of the church since Henry had taken her from the convent. The last traces of mistrust disappeared as she saw signs of true piety in him. William also impressed her as a man of his word. He was quicker to smile than Henry and talked more, but he took everything as seriously as his brother.

Henry was quiet, but,
since his parents did not seem troubled by this, Eleanor assumed that this must be his normal humour and since she herself preferred quiet, she became more and more comfortable with his presence. He recovered quickly in the forced inactivity. Neither his father nor his brother would allow him to do anything except exercise Solomon. He sat in the hall and Eleanor read to him from one of the two books that Sir John owned, when she thought it did not show too much ingratitude to her host. Sir John, however, encouraged it and she sat with Henry while others worked. Henry did not allow her to read for long, seeing that it tired her, and they would sit in silence or discuss what she had read or some of her lessons from the convent. He was better educated than she had expected and he corrected her occasionally. She smiled at his corrections, noted them and followed his arguments as he took her lessons a step further. Sometimes William would sit with them briefly and join in their discussions and he and Henry would argue for and against whatever point they were discussing. Eleanor quickly realised that she could not keep up, but she enjoyed the vitality and earnestness with which they pursued knowledge and understanding. Edward never joined in these discussions. If he crossed the hall while they were talking he would continue on his way without stopping. If, however, Eleanor was reading, he would stop and bring a stool close to her so that he could listen.

On
the third morning after her arrival Henry was not in the hall when she looked for him after Mass so Eleanor sat with Lady Mary and span wool. After a while Lady Mary went to manage something in the kitchen and Eleanor was working alone.

“There you are.”

Eleanor looked up from the wool she was spinning and smiled at Henry, then her smile faded. “You’re leaving now?”

He wore strong boots and warm clothes and a travelling cloak was folded over his arm.
She had hoped he would remain a few more days.

“I can stay no longer. I have come to say goodbye and to leave this with you.”

Eleanor stood and looked down at his hands. He was holding a book. She looked up at his face. How could a soldier like Henry afford such a thing? She could see no shame in his face; so he had come by it honestly. Could he truly have won enough prize money to be able to afford something like this?

“Take it, please. You may return it when you go back to your convent.”

Eleanor took the precious object carefully and opened it. It was a plain book of hours. There were few illustrations and they were not of the best quality, but the writing was bold and clear. She traced the shape of the cover with her fingers then looked at the first page and the last one. On this page stood a single Latin inscription, “Henry made me, 1351”.

That explained how Henry came to have such an expensive object. Edward, who was a wealthy man, had three books which he kept
in the chest in his counting room. One was about falconry, one was about archery and the other was a collection of pilgrims’ tales. This one was different. It was much smaller and made to be carried by its owner.

“
You made a book.” She allowed her surprise to show in her voice.

“I learned how at the monastery where I was a novice.” He looked away as if thinking about that time was painful. “Afterwards, when I knew I would never be a monk, I knew that
I would need something to help me. I wanted to follow the Rule as much as I could, so I asked Father Abbot if I could be allowed to go into the library at the monastery and copy a book. By then he knew the truth of what had happened and gave his permission, although my father was not happy about it.”

Eleanor frowned
, for she had come to understand that Henry’s father found much to displease him in his second son. She tried to remember what Henry and Isabelle had told her about Henry’s vocation. Surely Henry had been forbidden entry into the monastery by his parents. This story did not make sense. Was Henry lying to her? What was it that the abbot knew the truth of?

It was Henry’s turn to frown. “
You don’t believe me?”

Eleanor bit her lip at her slip; she was usually so good at concealing her thoughts.
“Of course I believe you.” She stopped. She did not wish to seem to interrogate Henry, but she could not pretend to understand his story. She held his eyes, afraid to look away in case he should doubt her. “It is just... well, it’s not...” She clutched at the book as if hoping for some help from that quarter.

“It’s not what, Eleanor?”

“I am speechless, that is all. It’s such a valuable thing that you leave in my care.” This was true enough. Even a book that was not of the best quality was an expensive item to leave with someone he had known only a few days.

“I can think of nowhere more secure to leave it.”

“Won’t you miss it?”

“Yes,” he said simply, “b
ut it will comfort me to know that you are using it.”

Eleanor smiled up at him. “Thank you. I will look after it well and return it to you at Christmas.”

“Until Christmas, then.” Henry bowed, turned away and was gone. Tears sprang into Eleanor’s eyes and she wiped them away so that no one could see them before she had mastered herself.

Eleanor grew used to the pattern of the days in the household. It was very different to what she had known in the convent, but the pattern itself was comforting. She quickly discovered that there were things that were suitable for a woman of her status to do and things that were not. She was permitted to weave and to sew and to oversee or assist in the kitchen. She was not permitted to attend to the horses, despite her protestations that this had been one of her duties in the convent. Sir John had been offended when she had offered and William had laughed. He had explained to his father that they could not expect that nuns did things in the same way as they did, but he took her with him sometimes when he went to inspect them and asked her advice. Eleanor guessed that Henry had told him that it would please her sometimes to be with the horses.

Isabelle
was a cheerful woman of Eleanor’s age. Although she was more interested in finding a husband and dressing well than in anything else, she was so ready to be friends with everyone that Eleanor found it easy to talk to her and it quickly seemed to Eleanor that they had known one another all their lives. It was Isabelle’s habit to spend a few days a month in Southampton at Edward’s house when he was at home. This was encouraged by her parents as an opportunity for her to meet a wealthy man so that she might marry quickly and well.

After much persuasion on Isabelle’s part,
Eleanor agreed to go with her. Edward, who had remained at his parents’ house, had continued to entertain her and had cheered her up after Henry had gone.  She was beginning to wonder whether she had misjudged his character. Unfailingly polite and attentive to her needs, he never intruded when it was clear that she wanted to pray or just needed some quiet for a while.

When
Edward heard that she was going to travel with Isabelle he offered to teach her to ride; it would be quicker and more comfortable than a cart and more fitting to her status than sharing a horse, although she could see from the way that he said it that he found the idea of sharing a horse with her attractive. Eleanor did not miss the implied criticism of Henry, but said nothing. She accepted the offer, provided Isabelle accompany them and Edward replied that he had intended nothing else. Isabelle had no objection and was happy to escort her new friend for the riding lesson.