He was right—she had to stay away from him. He didn't want to father a child in her and she was being cruel seducing him—not that she had strictly intended it when she went to his tent. She had been upset with the sights and experiences of the day, seeking someone to vent her high emotions on. It had just taken an unforeseen course.
The tournament would end soon, and she would get to stop sitting there, watching the horror in front of her. It was too much when Hugo was in the arena and she often had to close her eyes and hope the horrified and pitying gasp didn't come for him as they did when someone was felled or gravely injured.
Hugo blatantly ignored her and part of her bristled against it, wanting to force him to acknowledge her. She had trouble severing the link between them, the intimacy that traveling across the world had forged. He wasn't her friend, but he was the only support she had in the king's court, filled with innuendo, political maneuvering and intrigue as it was. There was much discussion on partitioning land in France and who would gain, as well as lose.
Eloise didn't think she could take anymore—particularly of living with the young women and their insipid discussion of who was more handsome. It didn't matter, Eloise wanted to yell at them, ‘you'll marry whoever your father picks and that's that’. But then past the first child and heir, the men in this society were a little more open to seeking entertainment amongst the other wives, and vice versa. A great many doxies seemed to be infiltrating into the tournament camp as well.
Eloise felt jealousy rise as she considered Hugo slaking his passion with some nameless, faceless girl, but she had to push it away. He wasn't hers and she needed to fully comprehend that. It certainly wasn't fair to wish him a future where he was pining for her—not that she ever expected he would, being too practical and stoic.
With relief and trepidation, she watched as the king’s servants started packing up the royal party. The tournament had wound down and everyone was wandering around, speaking to others, gossiping, laughing and enjoying the end of the festivities.
Eloise was waiting for the coach taking them back, having little to pack, while her companions in the tent were still preparing to leave. Through the crowd, she tried to spot Hugo, who must also be preparing to leave. She caught sight of his squire, cleaning his weapons, but there was no sight of Hugo.
When he left, it truly was the end to their acquaintance. Chances were she'd never see him again. He would return to France and she would be heading the other way, away from battle, down to Genoa and then Constantinople. She had to turn her mind to her travels and the excitement of seeing new cities. She could consider a few detours—Carthage, perhaps.
A page arrived at her side. "His Majesty wishes to see you, my lady," the young boy said. "Best to not keep him waiting."
Moving with a start, Eloise felt her heart race. If nothing else, she would have a chance to beseech him to release her. It was the only thing she sought and she could only achieve it when in his company.
Eloise followed as the boy marched ahead of her through the busy crowd packing up the tournament grounds. She almost lost sight of the page as a horse rode in front of her.
The king was in a saddlery tent of all places, filled with leather and blankets with the royal coat of arms. He turned to acknowledge her presence and to send the page away with a look. Turning his attention back to a saddle, he inspected the leather. "I like to inspect such things myself at times," he said. "Sometimes the details are important and you overlook them at your peril. If you have a keen eye, you notice things."
Eloise stood silent, allowing him to talk as he wished.
"And I have noticed that you do not embrace life at court," he continued, running his finger along a seam in the leather.
"It is a life I struggle with," she admitted. "I have become too accustomed to roaming the world."
He smiled. "Freedom is a seductive thing, but it has its cruelty as well." She didn't know how to respond. The king's shoulder-length hair obscured his face until he looked up and over to her. "Your father is pleased you are back, but the lack of reconciliation is disappointing."
"I am sorry to disappoint you, Your Majesty," she said, bowing her head, "but I find it difficult to set aside the past."
"The past is to be learnt from, but it does not guide the future." Eloise was silent under his scrutiny. With a softer voice, he added, "It would ease the mind of a dear friend if he was reconciled with his daughter."
Eloise didn’t know what to say. He was urging her to comply, but she just couldn’t. "I do not wish to stay in England, but I will tell him anything you want me to if I am released to go."
King Edward chuckled, then moved to another saddle. "Perhaps I can make this reconciliation more palatable to you. I see that you are set against it."
"I am not sure there is anything you could give me that would place me in such a mind."
"How about Hugo Beauford? I see how you look at each other when you think no one is looking." Eloise's head flew up, seeing the king smiling. "I am sure the long voyage you shared passes many things between people. It is in my power to give him to you, if you will. Reconcile with your father and I will condone a marriage between yourself and Hugo Beauford."
A deep flush crept up her body and not just from embarrassment at the fact that the king had just insinuated that they'd shared more than a journey on their travels. "We do not look at each other," she stated, knowing she wasn't remotely telling the truth.
The king smiled knowingly. “Think upon it.”
"There is nothing to think upon. Our association has ended and probably for the better. I would make a terrible wife. My roaming has quite spoilt me."
The king looked disappointed in her. "Don’t make a hasty, cold-hearted decision."
"Not cold-hearted, practical. My time abroad has changed me and I am not well suited to be a nobleman's wife. Hugo Beauford understands this more than anyone, I suspect."
“As I’ve said, think upon what I’ve proposed.” He waved her away and with that, she was dismissed. It certainly wasn’t the release she’d hoped for, instead an outlandish proposition. He seemed intent on changing her mind.
Unwillingly, Eloise left the royal saddlery tent, not having received what she needed. As stubborn as she was, the king was as well, but she had much more to lose in this game than he did.
She walked back, trying not to get run over, also trying to get her mind around the king’s offer. If she stayed, Hugo would be her husband—if she chose. The king could demand the marriage and Hugo would comply.
It didn’t solve the problem as it wasn’t what she wanted. Yes, she wanted Hugo, but not on the terms that went with it—of note being the reconciliation with her father and being an English nobleman’s wife—demure and pious.
She spotted Hugo’s squire. “Where is he?” she demanded.
The squire swallowed and looked uncomfortable, but Eloise’s unrelenting stare wore him down. “Walking the horses across the field,” the squire said, pointing with his head in a direction away from the main camp.
Eloise followed his direction and walked, finally spotting Hugo standing under a tree, his two horses grazing. He saw her coming and she noted the frown forming on his face as he looked down at the slack reins in his hand.
When she got close enough, she didn’t know what to say. What was there to say?
“I thought you had left,” he said.
“Not yet.” She shifted uncomfortably. Did he expect that she would leave without saying good-bye? Would he leave without saying good-bye? “Are you leaving soon?”
“In about half an hour.”
Half an hour and they would truly be parted. Something in her strived against it, even as she knew it had to happen—an injury that needed to be inflicted—best if it was swift and clean. But then there was the offer. It sat like a burning ember in her mind.
She cleared her throat. “The king summoned me.”
Hugo looked up, his blue eyes clouded and guarded. “Did he r
elease you?”
“No. Not yet. He wishes me to reconcile with Earl Chanderling.”
“His aim has not changed then? A play of wills between two stubborn creatures.”
“He offered me an incentive.”
“Oh? What incentive?”
“You.”
Hugo frowned and looked away. Eloise wasn’t exactly sure how Hugo would react, but she hadn’t expected such a deep frown. “And what did you say?”
“I didn’t answer. It was a proposal he put to me.”
Hugo stood absolutely still, not looking at her. “I offer you nothing you want. You do not want me. We have this attraction, and we have succumbed to it in moments of weakness.” Eloise shifted, knowing he spoke the absolute truth as he saw it.
“I care about you.”
“And I am leaving for France in a matter of weeks.”
“Hugo … “
“Everything you’ve ever said is that this, I, am everything you don’t want.”
This hurt. He was right, but their companionship, their intimacy meant something. What she wanted was for him to come with her, but she knew he never would. Her eyes prickled with painful tears, threatening to spill. She really didn’t want to cry in front of him, but they refused to settle.
“Please just go, Eloise,” he said. She could hear the pain in his voice. “Go as you’ve always wanted to. Now. Don’t drag this out.”
“He hasn’t released me.”
“I will deal with the king. Just go, back to Constantinople or wherever you see your home. I can never offer the life you have there. You know what my life is. There is nothing but compromise here if you stay. I will never be anything other than what I am.”
He took a step back, his eyes on her. She had to go. She would weaken if she stayed and this was a black and white decision, there were no grays. Accept him and release everything she had worked for, accept the limitations, the relationship with her father, and an absent husband. No more exploring, no learning, no riveting conversations with likeminded people. As much as she had grown used to Hugo’s company and craved his touch, the sacrifice was enormous.
She took a step back as well, seeing that there was agreement between them. Blinking, she turned and stepped away, feeling panic steal through her—panic at losing him, but more at getting stuck, letting her emotions draw her into a decision she didn’t want. He was dangerous to her, threatening everything she stood for and wanted.
She walked more briskly, pressing one step ahead the other, refusing to look back, refusing to let her heart speak. Yes, she would miss him. Yes, she cared about him, but sometimes you had to release the people you loved if it were in their best interest. She had told him that once. He had accused her of being fleeting. She smiled. Nothing about this felt like fleeting emotions, and maybe that was a lesson he’d just learnt. They cared about each other, but they were better off apart. Sometimes you had to release the people you loved.
Chapter 29:
* * *
It was raining when Eloise arrived in Sherborne, sinking into mud up to her ankles in the center of the village where the empty wool cart let her off outside Madame Sommiers' cottage. Waving good-bye to the driver, she rearranged the dripping wool material she'd started using as a make-do shawl.
She rushed to the cottage and knocked on the heavy wooden door, hearing movement inside. The door creaked open slightly, but Eloise couldn't see the figure inside. "Eloise?" she heard.
"Madame Sommiers?"
"What are you doing here, child?" Madame Sommiers asked, swinging the door open.
Eloise hugged the woman who had been as much an influence on her childhood as her mother. "I've come to visit."
"You're soaked. Come in."
"It's just a little rain," Eloise said, stepping inside, looking around at the cottage with low ceilings where Madame Sommiers had retired to. The woman looked a bit older, but not much different from how Eloise remembered from her childhood.
"It's been years since I received a note from you. You can imagine my surprise when I received a summons from the king. Come warm yourself by the fire," Madame Sommiers said, walking ahead into the kitchen where another older woman Eloise didn't know sat on a rocking chair, sewing. "This is Mrs. March. She lives here as well, along with Martha." A servant woman along the wall curtseyed briefly.
"Hello," Eloise said with a smile.
"Now sit and tell me what has happened."
Eloise could hear deep concern in Madame Sommiers’ voice. "Nothing's happened as such. I am departing again. I live in Constantinople these days."
"You're not leaving, are you? We just got you back."
"I'm afraid I am.
"The reconciliation with your father did not go well then?"
"Not really," Eloise admitted, looking down at her lap. "I understand he had his reasons, but I'm not of mind to forgive him, and that is perhaps the price he needs to pay. I can't just overlook that he had my mother killed."
Madame Sommiers leaned back into her chair and rubbed one of her knees. Eloise could see signs of arthritis claiming her hands.
"But I had to come see you before I go," Eloise smiled. "You're more my family than anyone else."
Madame Sommiers smiled and stroked Eloise's upper arm. "I wish you would stay."
Eloise wove her fingers together, smiling tightly. "I miss the place I've found."
"But this is where you belong."
"I'm not sure I do anymore. I like having the freedom I've discovered. I like to learn things. There are no expectations on me. I can do as I wish."
Madame Sommiers tsked. "Don't let anyone chase you away. This is your home as much as it's anyone's. It doesn't matter what they think. You have as much right to be here as anyone else, even on your own terms if you wish. You can learn here as much as anywhere."
Eloise's thoughts traveled to Hugo. It was his expectations that were so hard to bear. The king had effectively given him to her. She could have accepted and been his bride. It sounded so simple, but it was his expectations that she ran from. He knew he couldn't give her what she wanted, and she couldn't give him the wife he needed. "I think it’s best that I go."
"Nonsense. I wish you'd see that. But you must stay and see my roses. It is too dark now, but in the morning, provided the rain stops. And you certainly can't travel when it rains."
Eloise smiled, knowing Madame Sommiers would find every excuse possible to keep her there. It was nice to see her again, and it brought back all the memories about how happy they had been in the house in Somerset. She'd been so blinded with the bad memories and the scars in her mind that she'd forgotten about their own roses, and how Madame Sommiers would chide her for getting her dress dirty—often Hugo's fault. Somehow, she didn't see the monster she had thought him of at the time, but the young, arrogant noble trying to gain the knowledge and skills to be a knight. She could not have foreseen how he'd need every bit of strength he had to live the brutal life he did, losing everyone around him.
"And that was Hugo Beauford I saw, wasn't it?" Madame Sommiers said, as if reading her thoughts. "I haven't seen him in years. Grew up strong, didn't he? What was he doing there?"
"He collected me. They needed someone who knew what I looked like."
"Yes, well, I suppose there are few people who would be able to confirm it was you. Even your father could not be sure, which isn't surprising considering how little time he spent in Somerset. Theirs was never a happy marriage. I don't mind telling you that now that you're older."
"He said she was spying for the French."
"Could be. She was very loyal to her family. I'm not sure Earl Chanderling ever managed to inspire such loyalty in her."
Eloise's eyebrows furrowed as she digested the state of her parents' marriage. She'd never questioned it at the time, thinking all couples acted that way.
"Now we must start dinner. Would you mind shelling some peas, dear?"
"Not at all," Eloise smiled, remembering hours spent in th
e kitchen shelling peas. She'd hated it at the time, preferring to be outside, but now they were treasured memories.
"Aren't they gorgeous?" Madame Sommiers said and cupped one of the white and pink roses as they stood in the garden surrounded by rose bushes. "It's called ‘Rosa Mundi’. It has a lovely scent. Descended from damasks, you know?"
"They are gorgeous. Aren't those damasks over there?"
"They are. We have Gallicas, Albas and Campanians, too. And this one," she said, moving to another bush with large pink flowers, "is called Sweetbrier and we didn't have them when you left. It smells faintly of apples." She snipped off a blemished bud and put it in the hamper Eloise was holding. "You can't leave the cuttings on the ground."
"I know. The other flowers don't like it."
"You remember," Madame Sommiers smiled. "You know, if you insist on leaving England, you could always seek your mother's family in France. They are a wealthy and powerful family. They will care for you."
"I'm not going to trade the restrictions here in England to just take up new ones in France."
"You were always such a headstrong girl," Madame Sommiers complained. "There's a world full of perils out there."
"I know. I've faced a few of them. Did I tell you that we ran into pirates?"
Madame Sommiers shivered. "I don't think I want to hear about it. It will make me worry too much."
"Well, don't worry. I have a close-knit group of friends and we all take care of each other."
"But you need to marry. You cannot run around like a girl forever. The partnership between a man and a woman is the most important relationship of your life."
"There are husbands to be had outside of England." Eloise felt heat flare up her cheeks, as she knew more of what that relationship entailed than Madame Sommiers assumed. It would break the elder woman's heart if she knew Eloise's virtue was no longer intact. Eloise looked away so to not reveal exactly where her thoughts were, as they had turned back to Hugo, making her stomach give in a rush of ache spreading through her body.
Amongst Silk and Spice Page 17
