The Winter Love (23 page)

“If you want a fight...” Edward jumped to his feet.

“Sit down, Edward, you have never beaten Henry in a fight and in this mood he might kill you.” Sir John seemed weary. How many times had he had to stop fights between the brothers?

“He
deserves it, but, no, I will not kill him.”

“Not tonight or any night?”

Henry stared at his father and Eleanor realised that he was thinking about giving his word. It was not a foregone conclusion. Knowing that this was her fault, she opened her mouth to speak.

“Say nothing, Eleanor.” Henry wasn’t even looking at her; how
had he seen? She kept her silence as Henry continued to think.

“No, F
ather,” he said at last. “I cannot promise not to kill him.” Henry also sounded weary.

Eleanor looked at Edward and saw that he had paled.
He was afraid. It was true, then, that he was a coward. Then her eyes returned to Henry; it was impossible to look away from him for long. Sir John sighed and looked at Eleanor. She was surprised at the anger in his face. He knew that she was the cause of this enmity between the brothers. She recalled Henry’s promise to kill Edward if he ever touched her. Still she watched Henry, waiting for something, but not knowing what it was.

“
You’ve had all the apology I’m going to make,” spat Edward.

“I apologise, Henry.” Eleanor spoke quietly, but Edward jumped to his feet again.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Eleanor barely heard him as she watched Henry turn to her. She still didn’t understand why, but she knew that it was her decision not to go back to the convent that had caused him so much pain, not that she was to marry Edward.

He
nodded and left the hall. Eleanor rose and would have followed him, but Edward took her hand.

“
You have nothing to apologise for,” he repeated.

Eleanor blinked back her tears. “I have
everything to apologise for. I’m tired; I shall go to bed now.”

“Do you think I don’t know that you’re going to him?”

“I think I’m the last person he wants to see now. I drove him out of his own hall.” And this was her greatest sorrow. She would have little enough time with him over the next few days and already she had made her presence unbearable for him.

“I’ll walk you to your
bedchamber.”

Eleanor
was about to refuse, but they were betrothed and it was his right. She found her way back to her room and Edward took her in his arms and kissed her. He was shaking. Fear, she thought, not passion. Most definitely not passion,

For the first time his kiss
did not excite her. Even as he held her against his body and teased her mouth with his tongue, he seemed distant, as if she were the last thing on his mind. It was the same for her; she was wondering where Henry was and what he was doing. As soon as Edward released her she went into the room, barred the door behind her and fell to her knees. She prayed for Henry and for peace between the two brothers, but she feared that things between them would get very much worse.

Eleanor broke her fast alone in her room the next morning. She could not face any of the family or Mass, not until she had spoken to Henry and maybe not then. She had been afraid that he would seek out Edward and continue their quarrel before she could talk to him, but hoped that his habit of attending Mass every morning would give him some peace. Before last night, she had hoped that she could join him there, as she had at his father’s manor, but that solace was now denied her.

The food
the servants had brought her had tasted like ashes in her mouth and she left most of it untouched when she went to find Henry in his solar. He had been up for some time and was going through an account book. There was a hawk on a perch behind him and Eleanor guessed that he had intended going hunting as an excuse not to see her today. He stood as she entered the room. She thought he looked tired and his mouth was set in a hard line. When he did not greet her with a smile she almost turned away.

“Good morning, Eleanor, did you sleep well?”
His voice was cold and distant, as if they were strangers who had been forced to make conversation one night in an inn.

“No, did you?”
To her surprise, her tone matched his. His face grew more sombre and he shook his head. “Was your bed uncomfortable?”

“The bed was perfect. It was my
soul that was uncomfortable, but that is as it should be.”

“Then...”

“No,” she interrupted him, “I do not think either of us has any need to say more on that subject.” Close to tears, she took a deep breath. “I have come to return your book. It has been a great comfort to me, thank you.” Even as she held it out to him her fingers clutched it as if they could not let go. In truth she did not wish to return it. During these last few weeks of loneliness it had been the one sure point of her world and she wished that she had paid it more attention. Now she understood that each time she had touched it she had known that he had touched it, that it was important to him, that he had left the most precious thing he possessed in her care. Now she knew how greatly she had sinned in that her first thought had always been of Henry and not of God as she read the Psalms or the prayers.

He did not move to take it from her
and her hand fell to her side.

“Keep it until you leave.”

“That would not be right, Henry.”

“
Because you are to be Edward’s wife or because you no longer keep to the Rule?” He was still angry with her. The past night had brought him no more comfort than it had her. She put the book onto the stool beside her, forcing herself to let it go, but sliding her fingers regretfully along the spine as she did so.

When she turned back to Henry she saw that he was looking at her hands.
Hastily she put them behind her back.

“It angers you that I will not return to the convent.”

“Your vocation was strong. It never occurred to me that you would not return there.”

“Is that why you thought it would be
well to leave me with a man who wanted to seduce me?” She, too, had a right to be angry. More, in fact, than he had.

“I left you with my father.” Henry’s voice rose.
“You were not supposed to leave his manor.”

“You knew Edward would visit. You abandoned me to him, Henry.”

“I could not bring you with me.” He turned and slapped a palm on the wall. “I should have put you in the convent in Romsey.”

“Yes, you should. It would have been better for all of us.”

Henry turned back to her. “Tell me at least that you love him.”

Eleanor
shook her head. That he had to ask told her everything she had feared.

“Of course I don’t love him. How could I love him when....
?”

“Then why?”
It was as if he had slapped her. Had he known that she was about to profess her love for him and could not bear to hear it? She answered slowly and carefully.

“He was charming and solicitous
and exciting and he really was scared for my life.”

“Because he
knew I’d kill him if you died.” Henry’s voice faltered on the last word.

She shook her head.
“No. It wasn’t that kind of fear.”

She had thought the same at first, but a man who was afraid of his brother would just have left her alone. He would not have pursued her as Edward had.

Henry took a step towards her, “And now?”

Eleanor said nothing, not sure what he was asking.

“You will marry him.”

It was not a question, but she nodded. “Love is not the only reason to marry.”

“You are a wealthy woman. If you must marry, it should be for love.”

Eleanor bit her lip and told
herself not to cry in front of him. He was right; she should marry for love, but he had made that impossible.

“What did you expect me to do?” She shouted. “You told me you were my protector and then you left me.”

“I told you I would take you back to the convent when it was safe.” He took a deep breath. “Edward won’t be good for you.” His voice had dropped to a whisper. Eleanor noticed with surprise that they now stood facing one another separated only by a handsbreadth. She didn’t remember moving or seeing Henry move more than a step towards her.

“Edward will give me a home and a family. He will take me travelling.”
Eleanor felt as if this future was disappearing. There would be no new sights, no new experiences; everything would be dust without Henry.

“Edward will
leave you alone. He will sail away without you and he will take mistresses. You know the kind of man he is. I don’t understand...”

“You weren’t there!” Eleanor
slapped his face hard enough to snap his head to one side. Her palm hurt, but she barely noticed. Henry’s expression did not change, but he grew even paler. “You weren’t there,” she whispered, as the first tear fell onto her cheek. “I would undo it if I could.”

Henry reached a hand towards her face
and moved even closer to her, but she stepped back from him.

“I must go to the stable and see if Solomon remembers me.”

She turned and ran from the room almost blinded by her tears.

Eleanor wept onto Solomon’s neck. How could she ever have been stupid enough to imagine that she could marry Edward when it was Henry who had her heart? She didn’t know which made her cry the more; that she was to be married to a man she did not love or that the man she did love did not love her. Solomon nuzzled her shoulder and she did not hear Edward’s approach above the sound of her tears.

“So this is where you’ve run to.”

His voice was cold and angry. “Do you weep because he doesn’t want you? Just because you slept in his bed, you think he is like other men, but he is not. He has never been with a woman; he likes men. Did he tell you that he and your brother were lovers?”

Eleanor managed
to control herself and turned round to face him. She was not supposed to know that Philip preferred men to women, but she had always known. But Henry? Was that why he had kept his distance? She had thought that Henry’s sense of modesty and what was right had caused his embarrassment and withdrawal when he had touched her intimately. Had it instead been because he had been horrified to find himself behaving in such a way with a woman instead of a man? He had never tried to kiss her, never seemed tempted to touch her, except when it was necessary. Edward must be right. Henry had always spoken so warmly of Philip and why else would he have sought her out with the token if not for love of her brother?

I
t changed nothing. She had agreed to marry Edward knowing that she did not love him and believing that Henry did not love her. The only thing that had changed was that Edward seemed to know that she loved his brother. He must have overheard her conversation with Henry so there was no point pretending anymore that she wasn’t in love with him.

“Do you want something, Edward?” If he could be cold and angry, so could she.

“Yes, I’d like to spend some time alone with my betrothed.”

He smiled and Eleanor felt as if she was seeing him for
the first time. She knew exactly what he wanted and she was afraid. Even as she opened her mouth to call for help he was upon her. With one hand over her mouth and the other around her body he pulled her close against him. She felt him trap her legs between his. His body was hard and unyielding. He must have held unwilling women before, for she could move neither her hands nor her legs. He kept her motionless as effectively as Henry had in the convent.

“Do not call out. I will kill anyone who interrupts us. Anyone. Do you understand?”

Eleanor nodded. She could see his lust in his face and feel it in his body.

He took his hand away from her mouth.

“You don’t have to do this,” she whispered. “We’re betrothed.” Her voice shook.

“This is to make sure that you don’t change your
mind.”

“I can’t change my mind. There are witnesses.”
It was a stupid thing to say, although it was true. However much she might want to, Eleanor could not go back on her promise. Only her cousin could stop the marriage.

Eleanor tried to think, but she could feel Solomon becoming restless behind her and she began to fear what he might do. One of the stable boys could return at any moment. Worst of all
Henry might take it in his head to come for Solomon to go hunting.

All those thoughts were driven from her head when Edward hit her and
the force of the blow sent her crashing into Solomon’s shoulder before she slid to the ground.

Solomon began to move
his feet nervously, but she was too dazed to be aware of how close they were to her head. She felt Edward pull her by the feet away from the horse, then he picked her up and carried her further away before throwing her to the ground. The stable floor was hard and she was winded.

Distantly
she realised that he meant for them to be discovered, despite what he had said. He meant her shame to be known. He would take her here in the stable for any stable boy to find them, or rather to find her when he had finished with her. Why, she did not know.

She felt Edward’s hands at the ties of her tunic, then they were inside pinching her breasts cruelly
. His mouth was on hers, biting her lips until she opened them and his tongue plunged inside. Eleanor struggled, but that only excited him the more and he punched her face. After he had had enough of this, he stood beside he, removed his overtunic and his braes, bearing himself to her. When he knelt beside her again, he ripped open her tunic so that her breasts were exposed. He squeezed and pinched and bit until she cried out in pain and he hit her again.

“Be
silent, woman, I told you not to cry out. You will know a greater pain soon.”

H
e hit her again and this time she lost consciousness briefly. When she came to her skirts were up at her waist and Edward was kneeling between her legs.

“Now you will be mine,” he said w
hen he saw her open her eyes, “and no one will be able to take you away.” After she closed them again she heard a moan and scrabbling in the straw. She braced herself for what must come next, but there was nothing. She opened her eyes again; though with difficulty, as both were now swollen.

The
timber wall behind her shook as something hit it with great force. Something was happening in the courtyard. Had Edward gone outside? Painfully she looked around; there was no one in the stable. All the horses were moving nervously and Eleanor began to share their fear. She was afraid to stay where she was, but she was also afraid to move, then she was afraid she might not be able to move. A woman screamed – Lady Mary. Something terrible must be happening outside. She got to her feet shakily, retied her tunic as best she could and wrapped her cloak around her. Holding a hand to the wall of the stable she managed to get to the door without falling over. She saw Edward, still wearing no more than his undertunic, and Henry fighting in the snow. Sir John was trying to separate them and Lady Mary was screaming at them.

Henry seemed to be having the better part of the
fight, although Edward managed to hit him a few times. Occasionally Henry broke off to push his father out of the way before he advanced once more on his brother.

Eleanor could see that Henry intended to kill Edward; he was keeping his promise. Stumbling and sliding
in the snow Eleanor made her way to the small group. Henry saw her first and was distracted long enough for Edward to knock him down.

“Eleanor,” said Sir
John when he noticed her, “are you the cause of this?”

“No,” said Henry, breathing heavily, as he started to rise, “Edward
is. Can’t you see what he has done to her?”

“She is my betrothed,” said Edward and he aimed kick at Henry’s head. Henry twisted somehow and caught Edward’s
foot so that he fell into the snow. He lay there winded for a moment and Henry turned his attention to his father.

“Of course she is,” said Sir
John. “It’s not unusual for a man’s passion to overcome him and who is to say that she did not tempt him to it.”

“He has beaten her, F
ather. Look at her. Did she tempt him to that, too?” Henry gestured towards Eleanor and Sir John followed his hand. The older man shook his head impatiently.

“That’s not unusual, either, Henry. You know that. Your brother is in the right and you are not.”

Edward had taken advantage of Henry’s distraction to gather himself and get to his feet. Now he was advancing on Henry from behind, but Henry must have heard him, for he hit him in the stomach with his elbow without turning away from his father. Edward fell again.

“Father, this was not excess of passion.”
Henry continued as if Edward were not there.

Eleanor turned to see William standing beside her. He put an arm around her waist to steady her.

“This is nothing to do with you, William,” shouted Edward.

“Perhaps not,” said William, “
but if Henry asks me to hold you while he hits you, I will. What does Sister Margaret know of such things that you should deflower her in the stable?”

“She knows enough to have
shared a bed with Henry.”

All their attention was on Eleanor, so she
was the only one who saw Edward take Sir John’s knife from his belt.

“He has a knife!” she screamed and Henry whirled round and caught Edward’s arm. He
brought it down across his knee and even from a distance Eleanor could hear the bone break. Edward screamed and sank to his knees cradling his arm.

His mother ran to him and put her arms around him, even as
Henry picked up the fallen knife.

“
Henry, please don’t.” Eleanor could barely get the words out.

Henry turned slowly towards her. “You beg for his life?”

“No, I beg for yours. You will be hanged.”

Henry stared at her and
for a long moment nothing else existed. He nodded and put the knife into his belt. Slowly he turned back to Edward.

“Release Eleanor from her promise."

“I will not.” Edward gasped out the words.

“Then you will die
and I will pay the price if I must.”

Henry took a step towards his brother and
put his hand onto the knife in his belt. Edward lifted his head to look at him and if he thought Henry would not kill him, he was the only one in the courtyard who did.

It was only when Lady Mary started to beg for her youngest son’s life
and Henry had disentangled her from Edward that Edward said unwillingly, “I release her.”

Still
Henry did not turn away and Eleanor was afraid that he would kill Edward anyway. Henry waited until Edward looked him in the eye, then he said something so quietly that no one else could hear it. Edward looked away and Henry turned back to his father.

“Take him away,” he said, “I will not have him under my roof another moment.”

“He needs...”

“No!” Henry roared, “If you want him to live take him away now. William, you are welcome to stay.” He lowered his voice as he spoke to his older brother, but his anger was still clear.

“
I shall go. I think Mother and Father will need someone able to protect them on the way home.”

“You will always be welcome here.”

William nodded and started to take Eleanor back into the house.

“This is
madness, Henry,” said his mother. “You cannot send us away.”

“You made your choice
. I am no longer your son. Philippa and Isabelle can bring out your things.”

“Henry.” His father caught his arm and held him until Henry turned to face him. William and Eleanor stopped and Eleanor realised that William had loosened his
grip on her, although which one of his brother or his father he intended to help if needed she could not tell.

“You have ever been a cause of disgrace to this family,” said Sir
John. “I should have cast you out before, but William said you were innocent and persuaded me to keep you. We lied to protect you.”

“I did
not ask you to lie for me, there was no need.” Henry was calmer now as he faced his father.

“But you knew that we could never tell the truth.”

“You believed the lie; I always told the truth.”

“I cast you out now. You are no longer my son and I will no longer lie to protect you.”

“Father, you will not spread lies about Henry and neither will Edward.” William had let go of Eleanor now and was standing in front of her. She wanted to see Henry’s face and wanted him to be able to see hers.

William was shaking, whether from fear or anger she could not tell.

“Henry is an honourable man and does not lie.”

“An honourable man does not behave as he has.”

“William, I thank you, but I am grown now and no longer need you to protect me. Father may say what he wishes to whomever he wishes and they may listen to him. Those I care about know me and will not listen and those I don’t care about, I don’t care about. They may think of me what they will. Please, help Eleanor into the house so that she may get warm.”

Henry’s voice was weary. Eleanor caught a glimpse of him as William again put
his arm around her waist. He was looking his father unflinchingly in the eye and Sir John looked away. Henry spared a glance for Eleanor before he moved away to give his servants directions about the cart and horses, but what his glance meant she could not tell.

Philippa and Isabelle were waiting in the door. “Come inside to the warm,” said Philippa. “I shall fetch you some ointment for your face.”

“Thank you.” They walked slowly through the house to Henry’s solar, where a small fire burned. Eleanor felt dizzy from the beating that she had taken and clutched at William to prevent herself from falling.

“You
will be more private and more comfortable here,” he said gently. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this has happened.” He eased her into Henry’s chair which was set back slightly from the fire.

“It was not your fault. You and Philippa
have always been so kind and generous.”