Amongst Silk and Spice

by Camille Oster

  Eloise gave him a pointed look, resenting the somewhat true accusation. She hadn't intended on it, but when she'd sat there across from him, she needed his hands on her, needed his lips. As to the question, she found the only thing she could do was ignore it, because there were so many competing thoughts in her head. Part of her felt this was a reprieve from the difficult task of cutting herself lose and leaving, while another could not imagine being away from him ever again. But he was waiting for an answer, and she swallowed as she started lacing up the front of her dress. "Do you want me to?"

  He paused, unable to find something to say. Part of him did, she realized, smiling. He was as conflicted as she was. But that part of her that wanted to stay was soaring, knowing a part of him wanted her to stay.

  Ignoring the question himself, he rose and dressed, drawing on his breeches and shirt.

  This is how a man and wife were, rising from bed together and preparing for the day. A pain stole into her chest. She wanted this. It was just everything around them that complicated things.

  He donned his leather vest and breeches and moved to the door, waiting for her. Here he was dressed more casually than she'd ever seen him. "Come," he said, holding out his hand for her. She slipped her fingers in his, wanting to forget all the problems and just be here with him, away from everything else.

  Taking the stairs quickly, he walked over to the dining table where food had been left for them. Every servant in the house knew the master had a woman with him that night and they stayed out of sight.

  Hugo grabbed some bread and tore off a piece, placing ham on it and giving it to her. Doing the same for himself, he headed to the door, which had already been unbarred and opened. The sun shone outside, the rain having cleared away. He kept walking away from the house and out to a field. "Come see my land."

  "I know your lands as well as you do," she said, keeping up with his pace. "I spent just as much time skulking around here as you did."

  "Skulking, was I?"

  "I always thought so at the time. Where are we going?"

  "I want to show you something."

  "What?" Eloise asked, but he refused to answer.

  They kept walking for about half an hour with little seeming direction. "Where are the little buggers?" Hugo huffed with annoyance.

  "Who?" Eloise asked.

  "There they are," he said, changing direction, stopping about a hundred yards from a tree where two boys were shooting slings.

  "Who are they?" Eloise asked.

  "Those are your brothers."

  Eloise stopped and stared, not sure she wanted to see this. She'd known her father had remarried and had sons, but they'd never been real to her. She turned away, feeling both teary and hurt. "Why would you bring me here?"

  "Because they're your brothers and it's cowardly not to acknowledge it."

  "Cowardly?" she repeated, ready to argue.

  "Hugo!" one of the young boys called and they both came running over. Eloise wished they had gone unnoticed but it was too late now. The boys bounded over. One must have been around fourteen and the other younger, eleven maybe. Eloise watched the older, a young man finely dressed with light brown hair and freckles over his nose. "We heard you were back. Who's this?" he said, indicating toward Eloise. He didn't have much manners, she had to say, recognizing the arrogance, pride and assuredness she'd seen in Hugo when he was that age.

  "Just a friend," Hugo said. The boy dismissed her as completely uninteresting.

  "How was France? Tell us stories."

  "Perhaps some other day, Robert."

  Robert. She hadn't known their names. "And what is your name?" she asked the younger boy, suddenly feeling as if she had to know. Maybe Hugo was right and it was a bit cowardly not acknowledging them.

  "Cecil," the boy said, speaking in her father’s sharp, clear accent. She had to smile at the similarity.

  "Run off with you," Hugo ordered. "I have things to do."

  They looked like they wanted to argue, but reluctantly complied, running back to slinging rocks at the tree. "They've grown up a bit wild, but then so did you."

  "I did not."

  "You were all over these woods. The world since."

  Reluctantly she admitted that perhaps he had a point. Eloise watched the boys for a second, not really able to reconcile that they were her brothers—half brothers, she reminded herself. Young noblemen who were growing up to take the responsibility of being noblemen and knights. It was sad to consider as she knew the cold and isolated man Hugo had turned into—although last night, he had been anything but. Color flared up her cheeks at the memories.

  They started walking, leaving the boys to their mischief. Eloise looked back, taking one last look at these boys that were complete strangers and yet not. "Your father still does not spend much time here, although the boys do occasionally travel to Windsor to see him."

  "He never let me." Eloise frowned, feeling raw emotionally, having seen the boys she'd only thought of as abstract concepts. Then there was the whole set of feeling she felt for Hugo.

  When they were out of sight, he drew her to him, letting herself feel the urge and desire stealing through her. "How long are you staying?"

  She still didn't have an answer to the fraught question. She could stay. It would mean reconciling with her father, which she was still loath to do, but it had a reward, an important one—she could have Hugo as her husband. It wouldn't be unending bliss. He was still a knight and a nobleman and would be returning to France, married or not. Like her father, they spent months away from home, leaving their wives to effectively manage their estates. All these things she knew, but she’d still come, seeking him and an answer. But then there were nights like last night, when they were together in absolute bliss.

  Hugo stepped closer to her and her nipples tightened painfully as they rubbed slightly against his chest. Heat was pooling in her core and she wanted him again—needed him inside her. This was the payoff—the constant want and desire that would be exercised whenever they were together. She may never have this again with someone else, and it was the sweetest thing she'd ever known.

  He was everything she didn't want, except him—she wanted him with such urgency and depth she didn't fathom it.

  Hugo stepped away. "So you will take my seed, bear my son and leave." She saw the hurt in his eyes and she felt awful. It was the one thing he'd strived against, losing another child. This was her fault—she had done this, come to him, seduced him and taken from him. Her intention had never been to hurt him and if she could prevent it, she would.

  Eloise felt her heart race and her hands grow clammy. This was her fault and she could alleviate his suffering. It was the thing that had driven her here through rain, over terrible roads in the dark and cold. "If," she started, her throat growing completely dry, "there is a child—" her voice was shaking, "I will not rob you of it."

  He turned to her, his eyes piercing her. She couldn't do it—couldn't create another cross for him to bear. She would take the compromises, even gritting her teeth through a reconciliation with her father as that was part of the deal. He searched her, disbelievingly. "If there is a child, you'll stay?"

  Not quite believing she was making this commitment, she nodded. It meant giving away the freedom she treasured, but replaced it with a man she had learnt to treasure. She would be a nobleman's wife, with the responsibility to not bring shame to his name.

  "We'd obviously have to wed," he stated.

  She nodded again and Hugo rushed to her, picking her up over his shoulder. "Hugo!" she protested as he started marching.

  "No more dallying around. I have work to do."

  "I can walk," she said, laughing.

  "Of course you can. I've learnt not to underestimate the things you can do. But right now, I only have one goal—to put a child in your belly. No point wasting time. That dress is coming off."

  "You're going to be exhausted by the time we get there if you're going to carry me all the way back."r />
  "You should learn not to underestimate the things I can do. But fine. If you insist," he said, setting her down. "Don't run away," he said, pointing to her.

  Eloise smiled. He obviously didn't know she'd found that impossible.

  * * *

  Chapter 32:

  * * *

  Eloise stood waiting in one of the front corners of St. George's Chapel, her father nearby speaking to a man she didn't know. She wore a green brocade dress that was both heavy and stifling, now unsure she knew what she was doing. In one respect this was a terrible idea. She was giving up so much—for Hugo Beauford. She smiled when she thought of him, but the worry soon returned.

  She hadn't seen him for a few days now since their wedding banns had been announced. Going to her father's house had still been a bit too confronting with all the memories, but she'd agreed to return to Windsor, and since then she'd felt like her life was out of her control.

  Something in her mind told her to run, but then she thought of Hugo and everything softened. She could not abandon him. Not only had she promised him, but she would not be able to bear the loneliness she would inflict on him.

  Her two half-brothers were here. She would hear them trying to be quiet, or maybe they were forgoing that hope and doing as they wished. Their older brother and her father's heir was still in France, unable to attend, but her father spoke of him with pride in his eyes.

  She'd met her father's new wife, who was a pleasant woman. They seemed genuinely fond of each other. Hugo had taken her to their manor for dinner one night, encouraging the reconciliation. Their properties were after all adjoined.

  The heavy dress made her feel constrained and weighted down, and Eloise felt a sense of panic rising. Perhaps she couldn't do this. She'd probably make a terrible wife, having to show proper decorum at all times—she couldn't do that. This wasn't going to work.

  Then Hugo walked into the chapel, dressed in a fine red surcoat. He searched for her and saw her where she stood in the corner, feeling like she needed time to think.

  "Are you ready?" he said when he came over and she nodded awkwardly. It was time to be brave. It might not actually have turned into a nod. "You look beautiful."

  She didn't feel beautiful; she felt weighted down. Looking up at him, she let the panic show in her eyes and he stepped closer to her, encircling her in his arms, letting her feel his strength. "It will be fine."

  "What if I'm terrible at this?"

  "You won't be. You will be the finest mother anyone could have." Eloise ran her hand down her stomach. No protrusion was felt there yet, but her monthly courses had stopped. Looking down at her, he ran his thumbs over her cheekbones and smiled, considering her for a long while. "I know what you are giving up to be here today."

  Eloise swallowed, hoping to see assurance that she was doing the right thing. It didn't take long. She had a habit of drowning in his eyes, losing thought of everything else. She loved him and it stilled her fears.

  Leaning down, he kissed her. It was not an encouraged custom, but no one said anything. They were waiting for the king, who had said he wished to attend the ceremony, which was just an added level of nervousness as far as Eloise was concerned, but she also knew that the king's support was important for Hugo.

  "I am going to secure some land in France, and when we do and the child is old enough, it will not be such an undertaking to visit Venice, maybe even sail to Greece," Hugo said.

  "You would let me travel?"

  "Knightly escort required, of course."

  Eloise smiled. She would love to explore with Hugo, even if he complained the entire time about the food and the weather. She appreciated that he would consider engaging in activities she wanted. It was possible, provided she didn't make a complete cock-up of this marriage.

  Finally she could see some hope in the future, more than the grim life she foresaw with this war. Hugo would leave her soon to return to France and she would live without him. "You cannot die on me," she said.

  "I promise I won't."

  A hush descended and Eloise saw the king enter, searching the chapel and spotting them. He walked over. "Here we are then," he said with assurance, like he'd never doubted this outcome. "You make a lovely pair. Shall we begin?"

  "Yes," Hugo affirmed. Panic seared through Eloise again as he stepped away. Her father waited to escort her. She smiled tightly as she took his arm, letting him lead her forward.

  "I wasn't sure I would ever see this day," he said, "but I am pleased it has come to pass."

  She nodded tightly, not certain she completely agreed on that point, but his desire to make peace with her seemed genuine. It didn't change the fact that this man was a complete stranger to her. They could achieve a cordial relationship, but Eloise suspected it was never going to be a close, loving bond.

  Hugo stood ahead by the altar on the right and she was to take her place at his left.

  When she got there, they knelt down and the priest started by asking the assembled parties if they knew of any reason these two could not marry. Eloise held her breath, but no one spoke. There were a number of reasons why people would object to this marriage—she was a dreadful daughter, a willful girl, would make a terrible wife no doubt, was both unchaste and pregnant. Eloise smiled. If anyone should be panicked right now, it should be Hugo, but his back was straight and confident. How could he be so sure he wanted to do this?

  "Sir Hugo Beauford," the priest started, "will you have this woman to your wedded wife, will you love her, and honor her, keep her and guard her, in health and in sickness, as a husband should a wife, and forsaking all others on account of her, keep thee only unto her, so long as you both shall live?"

  "I will," Hugo said. His voice sounded so assured.

  The priest then asked the same of Eloise and jumbled thoughts raced through her head until everyone was waiting for her answer. Blinking, she tried to think. She was marrying. How had she gotten here? Because she couldn't leave Hugo alone and now she was pregnant, and she loved him—she wanted him as a husband, to be hers.

  "I will," she said through a strangled throat.

  "Who gives this woman away?"

  "I do," her father said proudly. Eloise marveled again at how surreal this whole thing was. She was marrying a man who needed her, who knew completely what and who she was. He had seen her at her worst. He'd seen her afraid; he's seen her brave. They'd fought and fought, then loved.

  "Repeat after me," the priest told Hugo, who then repeated most of what he said before, finishing with, "And thereto I plight you my troth."

  Eloise did as well. Happiness flared through her. It was done. He was hers and the other way around. They kissed and they were then free to return to his estate for some heavenly days together. The truth was that she could not see herself marrying anyone else—be with anyone else. Her fate had been sealed long before this day.

  After the ceremony, the king gave them his blessing and left. Eloise's father gave her a kiss on the cheek, which she received awkwardly, but she was trying to deal with her negative emotions toward him. But she couldn't relax until she and Hugo were on their way home in a carriage, leaving Windsor behind.

  "I'm never going to be courtly," she said.

  "I would think worse of you if you were."

  Eloise smiled, entwining his fingers with hers, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Obviously, if this is a girl, I want the best tutors for her—even to study whatever speaks to her soul, maybe even spend some years in Constantinople or Baghdad. I want her to travel."

  Hugo rolled his eyes. "She would chase away every possible husband I try to secure for her."

  "You better find someone extraordinary, then."

  "And absolutely not Baghdad. Bad things happen in Baghdad."

  Eloise gripped his arm harder. "You fell in love with me in Baghdad."

  "Is that what you call it?"

  "Admit it. You fell in love with me."

  "Absolutely not. Maybe a little," he conceded with a sm
ile. "I was certainly never going to forget how sweetly you danced for me."

  Eloise gave his arm a shove.

  Epilogue:

  * * *

  "Hurry up, Roderick," Eloise called up to her son, looking up at the wooden structure they'd built within a copse of trees, utilizing the rising hill behind it. "Your father will be here soon." Young James stood by her, his small hands on her thigh.

  "Elisabeth will not leave," he called back, his blond head popping out the structure above.

  "Elisabeth come down here."

  "Not yet, Mother," a girl's voice was heard.

  "What is this I hear?" Hugo's voice roared behind them. James let go of her leg and toddled to his father, who picked him up and threw his in the air, resulting in shrieks and giggles.

  "Father," Roderick said, popping his head out again.

  "Father," and out came Elisabeth's head.

  They both started clambering down the structure made of wood, moved earth and rope.

  Hugo kissed Eloise on the forehead then looked up at the massive structure. "We built a fort," she said.

  "Were you aiming for actual size?"

  "We might have gone slightly overboard."

  "Slightly?"

  With his arm around her, she stepped closer to him, embracing him and drawing in the comforting scent of him. "How was Canterbury?"

  "Ugh. Northumberland is making a pain of himself. He doesn't see how ridiculous he's acting. The king tires of his antics."

  Roderick and Elisabeth finally made it down and ran to their father with force, embracing him. "And how are my scamps?" he asked.

  "We built a fort," Roderick said.

  "I can see. Did you fell a forest to do so?"

  "Just about. Isn't it grand?"

  "It is the most stately fort I have ever seen." Both the children beamed with pride. "How in all of heavens did you manage?" he said, turning to Eloise.

  "I made Robert and Cecil help. They are at home at the moment," Eloise said, referring to her younger half-brothers, of whom Cecil had just received his knighthood.