The Winter Love (17 page)

Over the next few days Edward barely left Eleanor’s side. He was sitting next to her when she woke and when she fell asleep. He helped her to sit up so that she could eat or drink. Only when Isabelle or Sarah was helping her to wash was he absent.

Eleanor was glad of his presence. She was still
uncomfortable and could not stay awake for long, but she liked to know he was there. He had saved her life and she felt safer with him there.  They said very little. When she thought she could bear it, Eleanor asked him to read to her. She remembered the books she had seen in his counting room. They were not the kind of books she would ordinarily want, or be able, to read, but she needed to be able to think about something other than the events in the alley.

Edward looked surprised and disappointed by her request. “I have no books.”

“But I saw some in your counting room.”

“Books of accounts,” he said and she thought
she heard anger in his voice. “You mistook them for something else.”

Eleanor
knew she was not mistaken; she had looked at them and could remember their subject matter. She knew that when she had first arrived in his house not a month ago Edward had owned three books. Deciding not to argue with him she learned back in bed and closed her eyes hoping that her disappointment did not show.

Now she began to think about the books and why they were gone. She didn’t
think Edward was lying about that. If she could walk downstairs she knew that she would not find the books. If he had sold them, why not just tell her? He was a merchant and buying and selling things was how he lived. It was a mystery and she knew that she would return to it until she knew what had happened to the books.

“Shall I read this to you?”
She opened her eyes and saw that Edward held the book of hours in his hand.

“No, thank you. I shall rest now.”
She managed to smile at him and closed her eyes until she heard him leave the room, then she became lost in thought again.

It was Isabelle who told Eleanor how Edward had never left her bedside while she had been unconscious.

“He carried you in,” she said. “There was so much blood.” Her
voice quivered and Eleanor saw that her injury had scared her friend. “The surgeon thought you would die.” Tears sprang into her eyes and Eleanor patted her hand.

“But I didn’t. I’m alright.” She tried to reassure her
friend. More than anything she wanted to hear about Edward’s behaviour. He had said little about how he scared off their attacker and she did not know how he had got her back to his house or who had cared for her.

“You are. Robert and I were in church every day, praying for you. Edward stayed
with you all the time. He would only let the surgeon near you, not Sarah and not me.”

“I’m sorry about that. He should have let you help.”

It would have comforted Isabelle to know that she was doing something useful, but Eleanor was grateful for her prayers.

“He was angry all the time, mainly with himself. Oh, Eleanor, it was terrible. He loves you so much.”

Eleanor couldn’t hide her surprise. She was beginning to recognise that Edward had some affection for her, but she had not thought it could be love. Her own feelings for him were far more complicated. His actions over the last few days had shown him to be more caring than she had suspected. He had provided for her every need, often before she had known she needed something, Gratitude made up a large proportion of her feelings for him, but something else was developing. Was it love? Did his love produce its like in her?

Isabelle said no more and Eleanor felt the impulse to fill the silence. “I begin to see that he might
love me.”

Isabelle smiled, “And you? You must love him, surely?”

It was the simple response of a woman who loved her brother. Could Eleanor put aside her first impression of Edward and give him the place in her heart that he seemed to want?

“Perhaps,” she said cautiously. It was becoming clear that Edward was a difficult man to
resist.

One day Edward lifted her from the bed and carried her down to the hall where she sat by the fire and they talked for a while. They had not said much while he had been in what she now thought of as ‘her’ bedchamber, but now there were things that had to be said. Eleanor had thought a lot about the cause of the argument between Peter and Edward. She had no idea whether Peter’s cause was just and realised that she had no wish to know.

“We left Yarmouth in the storm to get away from that man, didn’t we?”

Edward nodded.

“Thank you for saving my life.”

Edward put down his wine. “It was foolish of me to let it go that far.”

“Perhaps.
”

“It was. Eleanor, I don’t think you understand how highly I regard you and how deeply I regret putting you into danger.”

Eleanor looked into the fire. “When Henry left me with your parents I felt that he had abandoned me. I felt that I was among strangers in a strange land.”

“And now?” Edward’s voice was just a whisper.

She turned her face back to him. She had expected to see some sort of tenderness in his face, but he seemed to be suppressing his anger. The smile on her own face slipped slightly, but she carried on with what she wanted to say. “Now, I think it was for the best.”

“Despite
spending the last week in bed?” Now he did smile, slightly.

“Since I left the
convent I have had no peace, no time to think or pray. Being in bed has given me that time. I understand what has happened and why. What I do not see is what I should do next.”

“Do you have to see it?
Can’t you wait to see what happens?”

“I am not in the
hands of fate,” she said scornfully. “I am in God’s hands and I must follow where he leads. I just cannot see yet where He is leading me.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I miss the Mother Abbess. She is very good at helping me to understand God’s will. She doesn’t direct me; she just listens to me and lets me discover what God has put in my heart.”

“There is an abbey in Romsey,” said Edward, hesitantly. “It is near my
father’s house. Would it help you to go there?”

Eleanor thought for a moment. Could another Mother Abbess help her? Was she
wilful because she already had her own ideas about the best course?

“What do you think I should do?”

Edward reached across the space that separated them and took her hand. “I think you should stay here until you are well enough to travel. Then you should go back to my parents’ house. It will soon be Christmas and perhaps we will have some news for Henry when we visit him.” He squeezed her hand and Eleanor took a deep breath. If Edward asked her to marry him she would not know how to answer. Could she give up her vows for him? Should she? She wanted to. She didn’t think she loved him, not yet, but that might come. He was not the man she had thought him to be at first. He had shown himself to be protective and tender towards her. Their combined wealth would give them a good life. He would not leave her behind when he went on his voyages as he had threatened. Not, at least until there were children and they would occupy her time while he was gone. She would not be lonely. Still she was not sure. If only he could be kept from making an approach until after Christmas, until she had seen Henry again.

Edward escorted Eleanor through the town when she was well enough to walk. She leaned heavily on his arm, still not quite able to walk unaided for more than a few steps. It was a cold December morning and the sharp air made her sneeze and cough as she breathed.

“There’s snow in the air,” said Edward.

“Snow? How can you tell?”

“It’s the way the air smells, the way the clouds are in the sky. There are always signs if you know how to look.”

“I didn’t know you could smell snow. I have seen and learned so much since I left the convent.”

Eleanor
bit her lip; she did not want to seem happy that she was no longer in the convent. It could only encourage him in his pursuit of her, but she couldn’t think what else to direct his attention to.

“There’s so much more you can see and do
here. In the spring you could come with me to Gascony to trade in wine, or I can take you further south if you wish.”

“Thank you, but...”

“I’m sorry, Eleanor. I told myself to leave you to make your decision by yourself, but the thought of taking you sailing excites me so.”

Eleanor turned to look at him. He certainly seemed to be excited. She had never even dreamed of travelling to
Gascony, but, now that she thought about it, it seemed to be an attractive idea.

The morning became darker and colder and it started to snow before they had reached St Michael’s. Eleanor looked up at the
white flakes falling towards her and smiled. They were beautiful, but they were cold and wet where they fell on her face. Edward brushed them away and pulled the hood of her cloak closer around her face.  The gesture was purely practical. Once more she was surprised by his lack of tenderness in just those moments where she expected to find it.

They walked on together and went into the church.
Throughout the service they stood at the back, paying close attention to what was going on. After Mass they waited so that Edward could speak to another merchant. As the church emptied Eleanor saw the spot where she had prayed with Henry and went and knelt there. She felt tears on her face as she prayed for guidance. She knew what she wanted to do, but was it right?

Edward put a hand on her shoulder and it was time to leave.
She tried not to hold it against him that he had interrupted her in the midst of something sacred, but it was difficult. Sometimes he seemed to understand the turmoil she felt; at others it seemed to make him impatient. As he helped her to stand, she was unsteady and he put his arm around her waist. Leaning against him she walked from the church and into the snow.

Already the snow was deep enough that their feet sank into it. All around were depressions where others had walked through it. It continued to s
now heavily and Eleanor started to shiver.

“
I have kept you out too long for your first time out of the house.”

“No. It has done me good to b
e in church.”

“I can take you every morning if you wish.”
His heart was not in his offer. She already knew from Isabelle that Edward attended service as little as possible.

“I have kept you too long from your business
already.”

“Simon looks after
my business while I am away from home and this is no different, except that I am there to look at the records and to supervise him.”

“He is a good man.” Here was something that Eleanor felt was safe to discuss.

“He hopes to marry soon.” Eleanor groaned inwardly; she did not wish to discuss anything to do with marriage.

“Does he have a
bride in mind?” If she could keep the conversation about Simon, they might get through the day without a proposal of some kind.

“He is paying court to Elizabeth, the daughter of Michael, the goldsmith.”

“Poor Simon. I doubt the goldsmith will want him.” The goldsmith was a rich man who had brought his daughters to a meal in Edward’s house one evening. He was fond of all his daughters, but Elizabeth was his favourite.

“
No, but he is a good and honest worker. And he has a lot of responsibilities when I am away. She is his third daughter and not beautiful. Her dowry will be small.”

“Does Simon want her for her dowry?”

“No, it seems that he loves her. He says that she is clever, which I should think a poor thing in a wife for him.”

“Perhaps he has
plans which require a clever wife.”

“It may be so. He knows what he can expect from me. I will not make him my partner. My business is
for my son, not my apprentice.”

“Does he expect to work for the goldsmith?”

“No, he expects to continue working for me and I have no quarrel with that. You...” He stopped.

Eleanor held her breath, certain that he had been going to
outline the ways in which she would be able to rely on Simon after she became Edward’s wife.

“You must admit that he can
expect no more,” stammered Edward.

“It seems to me that you have given much thought to your apprentice’s future.”

“He is honest and I want to keep him.”

Eleanor
patted the hand that was still at her waist. “Then it seems that it would be to his advantage to stay with you.”

By now they had
reached the house and Eleanor was glad to be inside. Edward helped her upstairs where she sat and warmed herself by the fire. Isabelle returned shortly after and sat with her. Her face was flushed, but whether from the cold or for some other reason Eleanor could not tell.