The Winter Love (14 page)

The horse that Edward chose was Lady Mary’s gentle mare. Eleanor
managed to get up unaided and tried to match her posture to Isabelle’s, who sat her horse easily and confidently. The horse was skittish with a stranger on her back and Eleanor was unsure how to calm her when she could not look her in the eye, which had been her practice with the convent horses and Solomon.

“
You sit well,” said Edward, urging his horse to walk in a slow circle around her. His eyes were on her and she knew that he was not just looking at how she was sitting on the horse. She felt strangely warm, as if she had been caught doing or saying something stupid by Mother Abbott, but the feeling that went with the warmth was nothing like embarrassment.

“Squeeze your
knees gently and we will be off.” Edward exaggerated the movement himself and moved slowly away from her.

This had worked with Solomon and
Eleanor squeezed confidently. The mare started into a slow walk and Eleanor began to relax.

Edward was a good
and patient teacher and she learned quickly. Twice it would have been reasonable for him to touch her, but he asked his sister to do so. Eleanor found herself enjoying his company once she realised that he was not going to impose on her any more than he had inside the house. He laughed easily and smiled a lot and she found herself responding in kind.

When she
tried to canter, she lost her balance and fell to the ground. Edward was beside her in an instant, his face showing his concern.

“Do not try to move for a moment, breathe easily first.”
Eleanor obeyed, unable to do anything else for a moment, having been winded by the fall.

Isabelle, who had gone after the mare
and caught her, returned to them and dismounted to stand by her brother.

“Are you hurt?”
Edward sounded worried.

“I don’t think so.”

“Good.” He smiled and nodded, thoughtfully. “Now you try moving your fingers and toes.”

When she had done so to Edward’s satisfaction
, he said she could sit up.

“It is better if you can do it without help. If you have broken something you will know before I would and I could make it worse
if I am pulling on you. I have seen many helpful sailors harm their crewmates in that way.”

“Very well.” Eleanor started to raise herself. There was
a little pain, but nothing seemed to be broken.

Edward stood
and reached down to her. “Take my hand. I will not pull you up, but I can take your weight.”

Eleanor reached up for his hand and stood, using her other hand against the ground. As soon as she could stand unaided, Edward let her go.

“Are you hurt?” he asked again.

“I’m sore, that is all.”
She was sure that this was the case. She could move easily enough and there would probably be bruises later, but there would be no permanent damage. “And wet,” she added.

Although it had not snowed for two days, there was still snow on the ground and Eleanor could feel it melting through her tunic.

“Will you ride again?”

Eleanor
nodded; there was no reason not to. Solomon had thrown her from a much greater height and she had been unhurt, but she had trusted Solomon. She did not trust this horse and wondered if the horse felt her unease.

Thoughtfully s
he returned to the horse and ran her hand down the horse’s face to her mouth.

“
You are a beautiful horse,” she whispered. The mare nuzzled her hand. “Ah,” said Eleanor, reaching into her sleeves for the apple she had brought with her, “you can smell this. You’re quite right, it is for you.”

The mare crunched the apple happily while Eleanor climbed back into the saddle. This time she was better prepared when they
cantered, although she fell off again when they slowed to a walk, as they neared the house.

“You will ride well,” said Edward as he gave her his hand again, “If you manage not to fall off every time you change
speed.” They laughed together and Eleanor recognised that her feelings towards him were changing.

That evening Eleanor sat sewing with Isabelle and Philippa. Isabelle was telling her about the things that Eleanor would see in the town. It sounded very interesting and it seemed that she had seen next to nothing on her last visit. She was not surprised; it was a large and busy town and, since Edward lived so close to the quay, the church and the gate, that was all that she had seen. There was, so said Isabelle, much more of importance to visit.

“And perhaps I will take you on a short sea trip,” said Edward from behind her.

“Oh yes,” said Isabelle. “To the island?”

“To the island.” He sat down near them. “It is a short trip and I already know that
Sister Margaret is more at home on a ship than on the back of a horse.”

Eleanor
nodded her agreement, already looking forward to another trip, however short, on Edward’s ship. Life outside of the convent might be noisy and disorganised and dangerous, but it was exciting and interesting. It seemed that there was always something new to see or to do.

“I have been hired to take a cargo to Yarmouth. It’s not something I often do, but I thought you would enjoy it.” He addressed this to
Eleanor and she noticed that Philippa did not miss this.

“You mean to entertain Sister Margaret well while she is your guest,” she said.

“It would be rude to do otherwise,” said Edward easily, but Eleanor knew that he, too, had heard the anger in Philippa’s voice. She felt that he understood the reason for it, but she did not. He smiled and left them. The next day he returned to Southampton. He was to come back to Abbot’s Ridge for them in a few days.

It was two days before
Isabelle told Eleanor that it had been Philippa’s first intention to marry Edward and not William.

“Why?” asked Eleanor.

“Because Edward will be richer than William.”

“But William will have this house and the
land.”

“The land is hard work.
So many died during the Big Death and those that didn’t found they could earn more elsewhere. Many of the tenants left and Father could not afford to buy more land. Other men became rich, but he became poorer. Edward is a merchant and clever. He chooses his partners wisely. His wife will live at ease and in comfort.”

“But she will be lonely,” said Eleanor,
remembering her conversation with Edward.

“All wives are lonely. Men go away to fight or to trade or to gain power and influence. Philippa...well Philippa would rather have that kind of life.”

“But Edward did not want her.”

“No.”

Isabelle said no more and Eleanor did not ask, but she wondered how William felt about being second best and she also wondered why Edward had not wanted Philippa.

“And Henry?”

“No, Philippa never wanted Henry.”

Eleanor laughed, “No, I mean
has Henry been married? He has told me so little about himself.”

“No, Henry
has never had a wife.”

Eleanor waited for some tale of youthful love gone wrong, but Isabelle
said no more and her attitude did not invite further questions. Eleanor wondered at that. Henry was too old not to have married and, however poor he was, a wife would have managed his property while he was away, so that he would not have had to rely too much on his servants. There was a mystery here that she wanted to understand, but she was going to get no help from his sister.

Isabelle’s own plans were known to her. Wealth
y landowners were few in this part of Hampshire and she had hopes of a merchant in Southampton. Isabelle did not want wealth for an easy life; she worked hard and was always ready to help. She wanted wealth for her children and she wanted them to be educated. Knowledge brought power and influence and that was what she craved for them.

This was a type of woman with which Eleanor was familiar. Mother Abbess was such a one. She planned and plotted and
spread her influence wide. Eleanor was glad to be under the protection of such a woman, but she did not want that position for herself. Working with the horses and in the fields and praying gave her enough satisfaction. She was grateful for the education that she had received at the convent; she could read and write and sing. One day it would be her turn to teach the novices and she looked forward to that, but she had wanted no more from her life.

Two days later Edward returned to the house and escorted his sister and Eleanor to Southampton. To Eleanor’s relief, the journey was uneventful and they were shown up to the room that had been Eleanor’s on her first visit.

As Edward showed them into the room he said,
“If you need anything, please call for Sam. If you want to go out, take Sam with you. I have customers to see to now, so please sit at your ease in the hall. Sarah will bring you some food and wine shortly.” Sarah was the maid that Isabelle had brought with her from Abbot’s Ridge. “We will need someone to help us to dress,” she had said, when Eleanor had asked why they needed to bring the woman, for it had seemed to her that there were more than enough servants at Edward’s house.

Edward
left them alone and Isabelle sat down on the bed.

“Edward will have guests tonight. I have asked him to invite some of his friends.”

Eleanor nodded, distracted. She was no longer sure why she had agreed to come with Isabelle. At Abbot’s Ridge it had seemed like a good idea to accompany her friend, but here in the town she could only remember how she had been frightened by the number of people walking around the streets and the noise that they made. Now that she was here without Henry she was even more afraid. Despite his new attentions to her, she did not think that Edward would be as proficient a protector as his brother.

“Tomorrow we must ask Edward to take us to the wool merchant. We might as well do some spinning while we’re here. You need some more clothes.”

Eleanor agreed. It was not always convenient for her to borrow Isabelle’s clothes; Isabelle had few enough of her own. They had both brought distaffs from Abbot’s Ridge and Eleanor was looking forward to spinning.

“It’s as well that Henry left some mon
ey for you,” continued Isabelle.

“Henry left money?”
Eleanor hadn’t known this.

“Yes. Oh, he didn’t tell you.
Was it supposed to be a secret?” Isabelle blushed and Eleanor rushed to reassure her.

“No. Perhaps he thought it would displease me.”
Eleanor knew very little about life outside of the convent, but she was fairly certain that it was not proper for a man to buy clothes for a woman he had known for only a few days, but she had brought nothing with her and needed at least one change of clothes and nightwear.

“Does it
displease you?” Isabelle was concerned.

“No.” Eleanor smiled
, uncertainly. “I am glad that he foresaw my needs before I did.” This was true. Once she had realised that she was to stay in a house where there were two other women close to her age she had assumed that the problem of her clothes was resolved, but this was another lesson she had learned about living in this world; Philippa and Isabelle had few clothes between them and it was difficult for them to share.

“Henry is very kind. Sometimes I think he is too gentle to be a soldier.”

Eleanor laughed. “The first time we met he threatened to hit me and he would have done it.”

“Oh! Surely not. Henry would never hit a woman.”

When she saw the expression on Isabelle’s face Eleanor regretted what she had said.

“He would to save her life.” She said this as seriously as she could, to show that she was in earnest.

Isabelle smiled. “I don’t pretend to understand. You must tell me the story. Let us go and taste some of Edward’s wine.”

Edward left them to their own devices that afternoon. They tasted his wine, then, accompanied by Sam, they walked around the walls of the town. It was a strongly defended town with high walls and a castle. Isabelle explained that, after the French had attacked and destroyed the town some years ago, all the wharves and the gardens of the rich merchants had been demolished and replaced by the walls. The French would find it much more difficult to gain entry today.

It was no less busy than it had been on the day when Eleanor had first arrived. The streets were full of people and she found the noise deafening; it almost robbed her of her senses.

Although she was intimidated by the number of people about her, there was so much to see, and all of it new, that excitement overtook her fear. Her neck started to ache as she turned her head constantly to look at each new thing. Her voice grew hoarse as she asked Isabelle question after question. Was that man with a falcon on his wrist very rich? No, many people had falcons in the town. Was it better to buy a pie from a hawker (who had just passed them) or from a cookshop? It was better to eat the ones made by Edward’s cook. Why was that woman in the stocks? Isabelle did not know and had no wish to find out, so they passed by quickly. Was the butcher supposed to throw pig’s innards into the street? No. Isabelle took her arm and they turned back the way they had come rather than try to pick their way through the bloody mess that had already attracted some dogs. Why was that man being pilloried? He was a vintner, one of Edward’s competitors, who had been accused of selling bad wine. They watched passers-by throw things at him. Isabelle’s amusement was clear, but Eleanor was less certain about her own feelings.