"You can love someone and release them, knowing it is for the best."
"Flitting emotions. One cannot live their lives by flitting emotions. Marriage is for the betterment of the family."
Eloise's eyebrows rose. "You've been indoctrinated in the beliefs of the English nobles."
"I am an English noble."
"There are other ways to live. I would have thought you'd noticed, traveling all this way. Does the scenery pass you by without further notice?"
"What is there to notice? I am an English nobleman and I will be just that when I return. I serve the king, I do my duty and I tend my lands," although no one was doing much of that as of late. "Why try to be someone I'm not."
"Because maybe those flitting emotions have more value than you assign them."
"Chaos and inconstancy," he said. "Where would we be if everyone ran around doing what they want? There is no culture on earth that supports that."
"Maybe you wouldn't be fighting an endless war, for one."
Hugo smiled, conceding the point to her. "Touché," he said, laying down on his blankets, feeling tiredness seep into his body and mind. Involuntarily, his eyes returned to her ankles, which would be warm and smooth to the touch. He couldn't have her, but abstractly he wished he could. Right now, he could think of nothing he wanted more than to sink into the warm, softness of a woman's body—although perhaps someone a little more wanton than the shrew opposite him. Then again, she'd lived in sin with a man—by choice. Perhaps she relished a man's touch. It didn't bear thinking about, particularly as tired and in the longing state he was in right then.
Chapter 12:
* * *
"A society is infinitely better off educating its daughters," Eloise argued. "In Constantinople, women educate themselves, as doctors even. They run their own business, own property. Society doesn't fall apart because women can be independent. England would be much better off educating its daughters."
"Or it would just make them argumentative."
Eloise shook her head in annoyance. "If England educated their daughters, all daughters, the whole nation would benefit. Even the men."
"How would the men benefit?" he challenged, obviously not believing a word she was saying.
"Educated mothers produce educated children, and knowledge is wisdom."
"Fathers educate their children."
"Well, not if they're off at war all the times, do they?" she said pointedly.
"What good is filling our daughters' heads with strange notions? Are we going to have them run off like you did?"
"And what alternative did you see for me? What would you suggested I've done? Tell me what options I had."
"You could have beseeched your father."
"Oh, the man who effectively murdered my mother? Is that what you would have done?"
"No, I would have killed him, but I'm a man."
Eloise grew quiet for a moment. "Violence solves nothing."
"I disagree. It quite effectively solves disagreements."
"It's only a means of creating further discord."
"There may be discontented grumblings, but threats keep people in their place."
"There's more to the world than control."
"Control keeps the peace."
"What would you know of peace? What you're doing is the opposite of peace. This war in France has nothing to do with peace. It's greed, pure and simple, taking what doesn't belong to you."
"The kings begs to differ. By divine right comes his ascension to the French throne. And he'll have your head if he hears you speak like that."
"Only a weak king fears speech."
Hugo chuckled. "You are intent on getting yourself into trouble, aren't you? Keep that up and the only outcome for you, if you're lucky, is a convent."
"So I can be locked away and forgotten about."
"Exactly. Beats the Tower. A man speaking like you do would end up there. These travels have twisted your mind."
"Or untwisted it."
"Tis unnatural for a woman to be so opinionated," he said with finality like he did when he wanted to end an argument. "I rue the husband your father has intended for you, having to listen to your opinions for the rest of his life. You will drive a man to violence if nothing else—just for a moment of peace. What man wouldn't willingly go to war to avoid the constant nattering in his ear?"
Crossing her arms, sitting on the camel high above him, moving with the steady, unrelenting steps of the beast, she vowed never to speak to him again, like she had so many times before. But there was nothing else to do, and like so many times before, she would return to arguing with him when the silence and boredom got too oppressive. He, like most men of his class, was pig-headed, narrow-minded and uncouth. They only saw the things they were told to see, but there were better ways to live. "You're just getting upset because my arguments make sense."
Hugo harrumphed, and he placed a piece of straw in his mouth to chew as he walked by his camel, no longer needing to hold its reins.
The Mohammedean traders had stopped up ahead and Hugo warily slowed their camels and Eloise unveiled herself to see better, but the traders were still too far away to tell what they were doing. Perhaps something was wrong.
As they got closer, she could see that they were preparing to travel again, attaching water pouches to their camels' burdens. There was water here, she realized with excitement, like she did every time they came across a watering hole, putting off debilitating thirst for a while longer. Even though she knew logically that there was water in places along the trail, she feared missing one, or simply not having enough and dying of thirst. It was a very real fear in this desert and a simple mistake—a cut in a water pouch and they were dead, not only dead, they would know they were in for a painful and drawn-out death.
It didn't look like there was water. There was neither a lake nor a river, but there was water somewhere, perhaps a well. They came to the traders just as they were preparing to leave and one of the Saracens pointed to the rock formation before leaping onto the back of their camels and made the clicking noise telling the beast to rise.
Hugo urged their camels down and they happily welcomed a rest. Sliding off the camel's back, Eloise found her feet after hours of sitting, and walked toward the stone wall the Saracen had pointed to. They were alone now as the traders were moving away. Hugo joined her search of the formation until they found a crevasse. If they didn't know it was there, they would never have found it, although the footsteps in the sand said this was an entrance.
Hugo held her back as she tried to go in, walking ahead of her. This was the knight coming out, confronting the unknown. Surely he wasn't expecting anyone to attack them here. Rolling her eyes, she followed him through the tight crevasse, which led to a cavernous space, lit by a hole in the roof. The sand inside angled down into a hidden stream, which moved silently across the stone formation underneath—an awe-inspiring sight. They'd conserved every drop of water, and here was a whole flowing stream, abundant with water, hidden in this dry, desolate desert. It looked quite deep too, likely drawing water from deep inside the earth.
To Eloise's surprise, Hugo stripped his shirt off, revealing his broad chest and muscled back. The action shocked her for a second, until he did the same with his breeches—a moment of abandon she had not thought him capable of. Not only abandon, but he was completely nude as he stepped into the water, gasping at its coolness.
Eloise didn't know where to look, but equally, she couldn't stop looking. His body was so different from anyone else she'd seen, broad and corded from constant fighting. His face and arms were the color of sand, which floated across the water as he submerged himself.
If he had the highest regard for her, he would never undress like that in front of her, but he'd made his opinion of her fairly clear, not that she cared—her regard for him was even lower. But he was enjoying the water and she could only stand by and watch. Hugo's groan of pure enjoyment reverberated off the walls. Why should he
have the reward of this stream and her not? She traveled across the desert just like he had, and was just as covered with sand. Oddly, for not having washed in weeks, they didn't seem to smell, the desert seemingly taking all odors in its dryness. She still didn't like being filthy when there was a heavenly stream.
Hugo stood in the water and brushed his hands through his hair, which was darker now, slicked with moisture. She could see scars on his chest, gained through battle, along with muscle. There was no softness in him, hard muscle from every angle. Tension flared through her at the sight. He was as far removed from her own soft curves as possible.
Reaching for the side of the dress, she started to unbutton, refusing to stand there and just watch him enjoy the water.
"What are you doing?" Hugo asked, having noticed her action.
"I am going in the water."
"And you think it's appropriate?"
"I've just traveled weeks across the desert and finally see a heavenly stream, and I should what, refrain? You're the only one here and I honestly don't care what you think. Although you could show a modicum of respect and turn around."
He didn't move. Eloise's mouth tightened with annoyance. He was trying to bully her and she was having none of it. Undoing the last button, she let the dress drop to the ground, too angry to care that his eyes were roaming down, taking in her body and the small silk braises she wore. She strode into the water and immersed herself in the cool liquid, running her hands over every limb to wash off the sand. It felt absolutely glorious, completely distracting her from the fact that she'd just stripped off nude in front of him. She submersed herself in the water.
He was still staring at her when she came back up and looked back at him. His eyes were piercing, and for the first time, she felt self-conscious. The water was cool, but she felt heated, perhaps a reaction to what she'd just done. It had nothing to do with the water beading on his chest and the expanse of muscle, and a strong neck gave to stronger shoulders. Eloise had never seen a man like him in the nude and she struggled to tear her gaze away.
"And what if I'm overcome and ravish you right here?"
Color flared up her cheeks at the picture that formed in her mind. It seemed so unlikely, not to mention forbidden, although over the years she'd successfully challenged many of the forbidden notions ingrained in her. This would not be one she would challenge, though. "Then you would have a lot to answer for."
He stared at her for a while, before a tiniest smile tugged on one corner of his mouth. Turning, he walked out of the stream toward his clothes, picking them up off the sand with a huff. His muscles flexed as he moved and he stood facing her as if he had no shame over his nudity. Eloise could see his manhood and the thatch of curls crowning it. His blessings had not been neglected in that regard, she noted, wishing she'd never seen that.
Tearing her eyes away, Eloise turned to give him privacy, but truthfully, it was more to stop herself from staring and her own reaction. The last thing she needed was heated reactions whenever she laid eyes on him. There certainly wasn't any risk of tender feelings, but neither could she tolerate heat and blushes when he looked at her. The mere fact that she hated him was enough to make such a reaction embarrassing.
She'd grown not to fear her desire, but it couldn't be directed toward him. Of the men she would choose to be with, it would never be someone like him. She wanted someone educated and wise, someone who would challenge her, not to mention appreciate her. Hugo thought she was unnatural, would always seek to suppress her curiosity, and her intelligence.
He left the enclave and Eloise gave herself a last dip in the cool water before treading up the bank to dress. Her skin prickled with the cold air of this shaded space and her nipples tightened. Unbidden, an image of his large, warm hand stroking down her skin accosted her, tickling deep inside her belly. Perhaps their encounter over the last hour had been a disaster, if her mind was now thinking of him in those terms. But she refused to—he was everything she despised in a man and encompassed all the things she'd consistently abandoned her home for.
As she was redoing the buttons at the side of her dress, he returned with the watering bowls for the camels. "Fill the pouches," he said gruffly, not looking at her.
Chapter 13:
* * *
They trudged for days, long hot days when the sun beat down on them unmercifully. Dusk was a welcome release from its harsh presence. Hugo had taken to wearing a head covering, just to keep the heat off his crown.
Once the sun went down and darkness claimed them, the desert was basked in pale, ethereal moonlight. Her dress turned black in the eerie light, contrasting with her alabaster skin. She looked as ethereal as the landscape behind her as she wandered off slightly, to stretch her legs from relentless riding.
The wind sang over the sand and strange noises flowed through the desert, like spirits of those who perished here. He could imagine nothing worse, perishing here and roaming this desolate landscape for all eternity. Hugo shuddered at the thought.
One lost track of time out here. The sun didn't change from dawn to dusk, with freezing cold descending with the dark. Hugo couldn't wait to be past this place, swearing he would never return.
Turning back to the camel, he unstrapped the pile of wood and tinder he'd gathered along the way. The desert provided wood from long-gone shrubs, although right now, they were in what looked like a dry lake bed. The sand was coarser and occasionally there were shells.
Dropping the wood, Hugo started a fire, the wood so dry it ignited without much effort. The chill of the night was descending and the fire drew Eloise back, her dress poor protection from the cold, even if it caught the wind beautifully.
He knew what she looked like under that dress now, wishing he didn't. She was perfect, her body enticing, drawing his mind's eye back to the hidden oasis inside a hill, where he could see that her firm breasts would fit perfectly into his hands, dusky pink nipples made for teasing. Admittedly, he was still a little shocked that she had undressed, forgoing her modesty so easily. Saying that, there was nothing in her gaze designed to invite, just the ever-present challenge.
The image of a cornered animal entered his mind, and it applied well to her. She was fighting the world and everything in it—rejecting her lot in life. Problem was, there was nowhere for her to go. She'd run to the ends of the earth, and still she could not escape what she was—a young noblewoman whose father had decided it was time to rein her in. She had no right to her own choices—born and bred to do as her father wishes. The annulment was a wee stick in the mud and Hugo wanted to see how she would play that card. She wasn't stupid—probably too clever for her own good.
She sat down by the fire, tucking her legs under her, her veil wrapped around her shoulders for scant warmth. Reaching into his pouch, he withdrew some dried meat and held it out for her, and she reached for it, taking it from his hand, barely touching his fingers as she did, but the touch radiated up his fingers. Forcefully, he stopped any images trying to steal into his mind. Alone, with no one else around, it was no wonder that his mind turned to his companion, but it served no purpose. His task was to deliver her in the best possible condition, and although her chastity was not intact, he had no right to encroach on it further.
"The stars are bright tonight," she said.
He hadn't noticed the difference this night from any of the others before it. "Are they?"
"Some cultures believe that the stars are our ancestors looking down at us. That our loved ones turn into stars when they pass on. It is a lovely sentiment, isn't it? My mother up there, watching over me. Your family watching over you."
Hugo's thoughts clouded over. Although it was a perfectly innocent statement, it brought heavier sentiments with it. "Don't speak of my family."
Eloise's attention turned back to him, surprised at his reaction, which was perhaps overly harsh, but he didn't like thinking of his family. She didn't know what to say for a moment, then drew her blankets out and covered herself, lying down to
face away from him. He had offended her, and by the tone he'd used, perhaps he'd come across as dismissive.
They walked in silence the next day, in the usual position with him leading his camel and her following behind, riding on her camel's back. She was still angry with him, although it was hardly noticeable through her normal hatred for him. Her liking him was not necessary or even beneficial to this endeavor, and he preferred silence to her continuous challenge to his beliefs and the functioning of society, as if he was responsible for how things were.
They walked through the wreck of an ancient city, the home of unknown people who’d abandoned this place long ago. Wood stuck out of the ground, having at some point supported a structure, and they walked between piles of ruined buildings.
"I wonder who lived here?" Eloise said.
Hugo shrugged, having no idea what this place was or what it had been in its time. It was like walking through a memory of a time long gone, the wind and sand working to erode them to nothing, beating down the abandoned structures to mere piles. The place had an eerie, stifled feeling.
There was no water, just rubble. Perhaps they left when the nearby lake dried out, Hugo wondered, but soon they reached the other side of the ghost city, wandering into the unrelenting desert again.
Hours passed as they trudged through sand, continuing in complete silence.
"Hugo," she finally said, bringing him out from deep in his own thoughts.
Looking up, he saw her attention in the distance behind them. A wall of murk, up to the heavens was encroaching from behind them. "Sand storm," he said.
Eloise turned fearful eyes back to him before looking around. There was no shelter and they had no time to return to the abandoned city—not that there was any true shelter there. "We have nowhere to hide from it."
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