But Jesus called them unto him, and said, “Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.”
Luke 18:16
“It has been a fortnight, my lord. You must address this matter before the king becomes upset.”
Hugh ignored his steward’s words and continued to help his men lift heavy limbs of beech and ash into the hedge. He added a few large rocks to make certain the livestock would not stray beyond the thick border.
“My lord, the servants will do this task. What are we to do about Lady Eleanor?”
“Can you think of nothing else, Sylvester? Surely you have other duties to attend to.” Hugh took a few saplings of willow and wove them through the large branches, creating a strong thicket.
His steward twisted his cap in his hand as sweat poured from his brow. “Something must be done about her. She and that child are everywhere. First giving orders to the laundress, then the weaver or the scullions. Last eve she was telling the servants a better way to lay the rushes on the floor.”
Hugh shrugged and picked up a nice piece of beech. He had, indeed, given thought to Lady Eleanor. In fact, he had made queries to lords and knights around the kingdom, but no one seemed to be interested in marrying the woman. Not one.
“These are all areas a woman should have a hand in. You are upset because you do not have full domain anymore.” Hugh wanted to add that as long as the lady stayed out of his way, he did not care what she did.
“She’s even telling Cook what to do. Nobody tells Cook what to do.”
Hugh paused. Mayhap that is why the food tasted better lately. If that were so, then Cook could learn a lesson or two from Lady Eleanor.
Sylvester slapped his hands against his sides and gave a long exasperated sigh. “My lord, she even has been in the armory.”
The wood slipped from Hugh’s fingers.
“If that were not enough, I saw her talking to the squires and a few of your knights. Do you find that acceptable too? Why, I even saw her at the archery butts, making inquiries about their size.”
Hugh lifted a dark brow, and Sylvester nodded.
No one in their right mind would challenge Lord Thornwood’s archery field or the butts. The barrels were of perfect size, two at the base and one atop, filled and covered with the right amount of dirt. Not a day went by when Hugh did not practice at the line. Why, every man and boy was expected to practice on the field every Sunday. If anything was sacred at Thornwood, it was the archery field and the butts.
Hugh wiped his hands on his tunic. “Nay. It is not acceptable. Where is the woman?”
“I believe I last saw her in the stables, examining your horses,” Sylvester said in a superior tone. “She had some concerns about the animals’ diet.”
God’s teeth. Why could she not do needlepoint like all other fine ladies? Hugh ordered the other men to carry on with their task before he headed to the stables with his steward in tow.
The gleeful look in Sylvester’s eyes was more than Hugh could bear. By no means did he plan to play out a scene for his steward’s amusement or, for that matter, the whole keep. As of late, every conversation seemed to be about Lady Eleanor.
“I think you should return to your duties,” Hugh said with a wave of his hand. “I will summon you if I need you.”
Sylvester stopped and hung his head. “Aye, my lord.”
Hugh continued to the stable door, then paused. A light feminine voice filled the air, and he briefly closed his eyes and enjoyed its cadence. If nothing else, the lady did have a lovely voice. Not melodic, but still smooth and charming—soft and yet confident. A voice that could bend people’s will without them knowing it.
A blackness from the past swept through him. The only other woman he knew who could do the same was Jane. Best he keep his wits about him when dealing with Eleanor. He had no intentions of giving another Taine woman control of his life.
Rolling his shoulder to loosen his tight neck muscles from a hard morn of strenuous work, Hugh took a deep breath, then strode into the dark structure with a firm resolve of his own. He found the lady stroking the muzzle of his horse. His stallion. And by the cross, if the beast did not seem to be enjoying it.
Quietly he approached her. “I see you have conquered Barabbas.”
She jumped a bit at the sound of his voice. “Oh, I did not see you there, my lord. I was just checking to see how the animals were faring since we decided to change their feed a bit.”
“We?” Hugh folded his arms across his chest and took a broad stance.
With a shaky hand, she gave Barabbas one more pat on the muzzle, then turned and faced him directly. “Aye, your stable master and I. We thought to clean up the hay before it is given to the stock.”
“Clean up?”
“Together we came up with the idea to give the animals hay free of mold and dust. Hay that is not too mature and that does not have coarse stems, but that is not too fine either.”
“And why, pray tell, do my horses need a different diet?”
Even though she held her head high, she clenched her hands together, giving proof she was intimidated by him. Good. She needed to learn her place at this keep, which did not include his stables, his armory, his archery field, or for that matter, anywhere he did not want her to be. He took a step toward her. To his surprise, she did not step back.
The lady cleared her throat. “I have noticed that they seem a bit sluggish when they are exercised. That usually means they have a hard time digesting their food. Of course, all animals are different. Mules seem to be able to eat anything, and we decided they could eat the coarser stems. That way nothing goes to waste. Your stable master, Giles, explained that you are much displeased when things are wasted.”
Giles? The lady was on first name basis with his stable master? “Indeed. He told you that? And where, Lady Eleanor, did you gain your knowledge of what these beasts should eat?”
She took a deep breath, looked down at the dirt beneath her slippers and then lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “I am not sure you know of my circumstances before I came here, but I have lived in various keeps and, depending on the lord, I was given various tasks. Some of which included feeding the horses and livestock.”
Now ’twas Hugh who wanted to take a step back. He had known Lady Eleanor had been shuffled about in her youth, but he had always thought wherever she was, she had been treated as a lady. What monster would make a lady work the stables?
“My lord, you are shaking. Are you all right?”
Indeed he was pulsating with anger. If the man who had done this were here, he’d call him out. “Who was this lord that made you work as a peasant?”
She shook her head and gave him a weak smile. A smile that spoke of the cruelty she had suffered. “Truly it doesn’t matter anymore. I have been made to do many things in many keeps. This is by far, not the worst.”
“Nonetheless, I shall know his name,” he practically roared at her. She stepped back and Hugh cursed his own temper.
“My lord, there is no reason to shout. If you wish to know I was only ten summers and living with Sir Thomas de Vin. Please do not be overly distressed, as I learned much there.”
Hugh found his anger waning as she gave him another smile, this time more tender. Still if he ever saw the man...
“The horses have only had the new feed for a few days. Please, give it a week and let us see if they improve.”
Though he wanted to deny her request, he found he could not, and nodded instead. “Very well. But I do not wish to see you meddling in Master Giles’ duties.”
“Aye, my lord.” She bowed her head, but then just as quickly met his gaze once again. “What are my duties? Where is my place?”
Excellent. They were back where he wanted to be. Setting her limitations. “I have been thinking. We have not spent much time discussing the reason you were sent here—”
“We have not spent any time discussing it.”
Hugh gritted his teeth at her directness, but he planned to hold the upper hand here. “Quite right. Therefore, I think you should spend the next few days mulling over and listing your attributes that would tempt a lord into marriage.”
For a few moments she did nothing, but gape at him. He nodded vigorously. She stared.
“You want me to make a list of things that would entice a man?” Her sentence came out like a squeaky mouse. Not her usual pleasant speech. Even Barabbas stabbed a hoof into the ground at its disagreeable pitch.
He frowned. “I do not think my request is so absurd. How else am I to find a suitable match for you if I know nothing about you?”
“Well...my lord, you could learn about me like most people would do by spending time together. I think one can learn far more about a person through a verbal exchange than from scribbles on a piece of parchment.”
Ah, how obtuse of him. “My lady, forgive me. I had not thought of your station. I will have Master Sylvester jot down your words.”
She lifted her chin high. The lady could not write. “My lord, I know how to read and write. I acted as my uncle’s steward while at his manor, and long before that, at other keeps, I spent a lot of time with Christian brothers or priests. Many were willing to instruct me in the art of reading and writing.”
He did not doubt that. She probably hounded the clergy until they gave in out of self-preservation. He wondered how many times they had flagellated themselves for participating in such an education.
“Therefore your steward is not necessary,” she continued. “As I stated before, the best way to find a suitable match for me would be for us to spend a little time together. Perhaps then you could judge for yourself what attributes I have to offer.”
Surely she jested, yet he saw nothing but sincerity in her eyes. “I disagree.” He swallowed hard. “It is through silent reflection that one learns what one is good at or what strengths one has.”
She tilted her head and he braced himself for her next words. “Is that how you discovered you were good at building hedges, hunting game, drawing a bow, and using the sword? Through contemplating and meditating on the tasks?”
There was one talent he knew she already possessed and that was the ability to twist and turn normal thinking. Though that was not a constructive talent. “Those things are different.”
“Are they?”
“Aye. They—”
“Lady Elle, where are you?” The smithy’s child came skipping into the stables and froze on the spot when she saw him.
“Hello Isobel, did you have a nice time feeding some of Lord Thornwood’s chickens?” Lady Eleanor asked.
The girl said and did nothing but stare at him. Mayhap she was a little unbalanced. After all, what would possess her to throw her father’s cloak on a fire?
Before he could form any more thoughts, Isobel latched onto his leg, wrapping her arms around his thigh like a vice. “You saved my hand.”
He patted her head. “Come now, child. Let’s not be overly dramatic.”
She refused to let go. He tried to shake her loose, but she wouldn’t budge. A soft giggle escaped Lady Eleanor’s lips, which only irritated him all the more.
“Isobel seems quite fond of you.”
“Can you not call her off?” he pleaded.
Lady Eleanor just shook her head and gave him one of her breathtaking smiles.
Seeing no help would come from that quarter, Hugh bent over and pried the girl off with both hands. He stooped down and held her shoulder’s length away. “It’s all right...”
“Isobel,” Lady Eleanor interjected.
“Isobel,” Hugh grated out. “Things are much better now. There is no need to give me thanks.”
Isobel held up the hand that had a small wrap over four of her fingers. “It’s getting better. Lady Elle put a smaller bandage on it this morn.”
“Wonderful.” He patted the child on her shoulder and slowly tried to stand. But Isobel moved closer and grabbed his leg again. There was nothing else he could do. “Lady Eleanor, please.”
Thankfully she took pity on him this time. “Isobel, don’t smother Lord Thornwood. Come here.”
The child scampered over to Eleanor and held up her hand. “I’d have a stump here if it wasn’t for him.”
“She’s quite dramatic, isn’t she?” Hugh said brushing off his breeches.
“It was a dramatic experience.” Eleanor ran a hand over the child’s golden locks.
“Well. I am sure in time, when the wound heals, she’ll forget the experience.”
The girl crouched down and began to pick up pieces of hay that were scattered on the dirt floor.
“Perhaps.” The tenderness in Lady Eleanor’s face when she gazed upon the child made Hugh suspect that she would be an excellent mother someday.
But that thought did not address the problem at hand. “So then it is settled. You will retire to your chamber where you will make a list of your appealing attributes.” He turned to leave.
“My lord, what of Isobel?”
He turned back. “What of her?”
“My room is a very dull place for a child. I gave my word to your smithy I would keep her out of harm’s way while he works. Perhaps she could spend some time with you—in the fields.”
“What? Preposterous! A child—especially a girl child—does not need to spend time in the fields. Absolutely not.” The shake returned to his body. He balled his fist to steady himself.
“Let’s ask Isobel what she would like to do.” Lady Eleanor stooped down next to the child and whispered in her ear.
Immediately Isobel jumped up and beamed from ear to ear as she looked at him. “I want to go with Sir Hugh.”
He groaned.
“You don’t want to disappoint a child who holds you in such high esteem do you?” Lady Eleanor said with her lyrical voice, and added an attractive smile for good measure.
He wanted to shout, aye. But the word stuck in his throat when the child skipped to his side and gazed up at him with adoration.
Instead, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Very slowly. “Fine. The child can come.” He pointed at Isobel. “But you must stay out of the way of the working men.”
His stern tone made the child jump up and down with pure excitement. Hugh shook his head and turned to leave.
“One more thing, my lord.”
He checked the urge to roll his eyes heavenward before he faced the woman. “What else, Lady Eleanor?”
“And what appealing attributes do you think I should start with?” she asked, a slight challenge in her voice.
What was this? Why did she continue to goad him? He was not to blame for her circumstance. If she wished to fault someone, she should look to the king. Glancing down at the child who he was saddled with this noon, he decided enough was enough.
“You could start with the nice tone of your lovely voice, or your tender smile.”
Her mouth dropped open and she did not utter a word. Finally.
But alas, the silence had a short life.
“You think I have a tender smile?”
Hugh pondered the question. “Aye. Some might say it is a little lopsided, but I think that is part of its charm.” He bowed slightly and turned to leave, glad that for once she was just as flummoxed as he.