For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
Matthew 6:21
She was mad. Mad with worry. Mad with anger. Mad with helplessness. Hugh had vanished—gone for almost two days. Nearly all had given up their daily work to search for him, but they could not find his whereabouts.
Exhausted from lack of sleep, Eleanor stood on the battlements, her stomach and chest pressed against the cool stones, staring into the yonder woods as if the simple act would bring Hugh home.
Sir Theodore approached quietly, placing a tender hand on her shoulder. “We will keep searching, but I fear there is naught we can do but wait for the ransom demand.”
“I will not stand here and wait for what might happen. Let us ride again.” Eleanor never broke her focus with the trees before her. “They cannot have gone far. Oh, why can’t we find him?”
“I have asked myself that question a thousand times. I thought for sure Darrin would discover the villains’ hide out. He knows these woods like a hungry calf knows its mother’s tit. Even so, he has come up empty-handed. Whoever these men are, they know the forest well and are not your average scoundrels. They maneuver like an army.”
“An army!” A prick of despair started at the nape of her neck and traveled to her toes. She turned toward the knight. “Pray tell, who would send an army after Lord Thornwood?”
Sir Theodore shook his head. “Aye, ’tis a preposterous thought. He holds no influence over the crown and his holding is meager compared to many. I cannot fathom who would want to kidnap him. Unless...” He rubbed a hand over his stubble face.
“Unless what?” Eleanor encouraged.
“Unless, this is a vindictive move. One made to satisfy an old score.”
Eleanor’s hands began to tremble and she clasped them to hide her fear. “Do you speak of my cousin’s death?”
A muscle in Sir Theodore’s cheek twitched. “Mayhap not so much her death, but what was lost because of it. Lady Jane was heavy into trading with the black markets. Many of the goods that came from the Holy Land passed through Thornwood. Many she kept, but many she sold to others and split the profits with the smugglers.”
“I thought her contact, the profiteer, died the same day she did.”
“The main one, but my lady, there were others. The road to riches died when Lady Jane did. There may be some who still wish to even the score.”
Her heart quickened its pace to the point where her head became woozy. She reached out to steady herself against the stone wall. “Are you saying Lord Thornwood may be dead?”
Sir Theodore looked away.
“Answer me. Do you think Sir Hugh is dead?”
“Mayhap,” he said quietly. “Or mayhap he was kidnapped for Jane’s loot. Some say it still resides in these walls. Though I doubt it. Prince John and the Church took whatever they could find after Lady Jane’s death. Sir Hugh cared not for the goods.”
A large wooden door, heavily bolted and chained, rushed into the forefront of Eleanor’s mind. Maybe some is still here. If so, then there was hope. If they found something of value, they could send out the call that Thornwood had something to trade for Sir Hugh’s safe return.
She lifted the hem of her gown. “Bring your sword and follow me.”
Eleanor led Sir Theodore through the dark hallway to the chained door she had discovered earlier. “Do you know the importance of this room?”
The knight looked at her through hooded eyes and stepped back. “My lady, no one is allowed to enter this part of the keep, and those who do earn Lord Thornwood’s wrath. I suggest we leave this place immediately.”
“So I take it you do know what lies on the other side of this door?”
No answer came forth.
“Please. The longer we hesitate the greater the chance that Sir Hugh will never return.”
Sir Theodore slowly shook his head. “’Tis Lady Jane’s room. All are forbidden to enter.”
Just as Eleanor thought. A room filled with memories Hugh wanted to forget. But maybe it also held the key to rescuing him. “Open it.” Eleanor gestured to the sword at Sir Theodore’s side.
The man blanched; his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. “My lady, I cannot. Sir Hugh would have my head.”
Men. She grappled with the thought of grabbing the sword and doing the job herself, but she feared Sir Theodore might die from the stress of her actions.
“The answer to saving Lord Thornwood may lie within. You said it yourself, the more time that passes...this is our only hope.” She placed her fingers on his arm. “Please.”
With a grim look, the knight drew and raised his sword toward the door, giving it a few strong whacks. The lock and chains would not give. Sweat poured from his brow as he tried again and again.
“It will not budge, my lady. I think we need an ax.”
She nodded and Sir Theodore left, but returned quickly with Adam, the smithy, carrying a large ax. With a few thwacks, the chain clinked to the floor and a small cheer could be heard. Eleanor turned and saw Isobel, Cook and a few other servants standing behind her. It was one thing breaking into a forbidden room with one knight, it was another breaking in with an audience.
Knowing her distress, Cook gave a slight curtsy. “Isobel saw her father coming this way with the ax and followed after him. I just came to fetch her.”
It was on the tip of Eleanor’s tongue to ask who invited the others, but just then Adam waved his mighty ax in the air and brought it down hard on the lock. Sparks flew, but the bolt did not give way. Again and again and again he tried, to no avail.
Huffing, his skin glistened with sweat, Adam shook his head. “This lock must have been forged by Lucifer, himself. I am sorry, my lady.”
Eleanor stared at the large hunk of iron that forbid her entry. Only a few nicks were present for all of Adam’s hard labor. Her gaze was drawn to the dark hole in the middle of the lock.
The key!
If they could find the key, they could get in. She turned to Sir Theodore and as if he had read her mind, “Nay, my lady. We mustn’t.”
They must and soon. Eleanor left his comment hovering in the air and pushed her way through the small group, which was growing by the minute, and made her way to Sir Hugh’s room. She opened the door and stopped. Her heart squeezed. A heady scent of leather and earth, like the smell of green grass after a warm spring rain, caught her senses. She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined what it would be like to wake up every morning in this room with Hugh, her husband lying next to her.
A warm flush ran up her neck and burned her cheeks. She was not standing here alone. Mindful of those behind her, she hurried into the room, though Sir Theodore and the others stopped at its edge. She scanned the chamber. Where would she hide a key to a place she wanted to forget?
Under the bed? Nay. Too obvious. In his chest? Nay. Too intimate. Sown into a chair cushion? Nay. Too feminine. Then where would a lord hide a key to a place that held horrible memories?
Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach and her lungs struggled for air. He’d throw it away!
Eleanor turned and headed back to the entry where she ran into a huffing Sylvester. “My lady, what do you here? ’Tis unseemly. My Lord Thornwood would not be pleased.”
She raised her head high. “Even so. My presence here may be the only hope for finding his lordship. I search for a key to Lady Jane’s chamber. Do you know of its whereabouts?”
The man turned beet red. “I-I-”
“Tell her. ’Tis our last hope in finding Sir Hugh.” Sir Theodore glared at the steward.
Sylvester took a noticeably hard swallow. “The cesspool. He buried it in a small chest. He said that is where Lady Jane’s greed belonged.”
Without a word, Eleanor marched out of the room, down the stone steps, through the great hall and right to the cesspool behind the keep.
“My lady, surely you’re not planning to...” Sylvester looked on with horror as she stepped into the muck.
She wrinkled her noise at the stench and the sludge oozing around her legs. “Indeed I am. Would you care to join me?”
He did not, but Isobel did, followed by Adam, Cook, and Sir Theodore. Soon, more knights and a few servants joined in—digging in the dung, looking for a precious box.
Laughter echoed as all swatted at flies and tried to wipe the sweat from their brows without getting waste on their faces. Finally, after what seemed like a year, a shout rang out from a lad by the name of James.
“He’s found something,” Cook affirmed.
James hauled a small chest covered with filth onto the edge of the cesspool. Another servant fetched a pail of water and threw it at the box.
Made of iron, the chest was latched and locked. Adam stepped out of the cesspool and grabbed his ax. With one crack the lock gave way. Eleanor struggled to the edge of the pool and reached inside, pulling forth a strong, very useful key.
The crowd cheered as Eleanor made her way back up to the locked door, her filthy entourage in tow. Her heart fluttered with eagerness when the key fit and the lock sprang open. She pushed open the door and inhaled sharply when she looked inside.
“My word. I never would have thought...”
Even though the chamber was covered in dust, it was opulent. Gold gilded chairs stood next to an abandoned fireplace with a rich ebony mantel carved with designs she wasn’t familiar with. The bed was almost impossible to describe. It stood high off the ground with ornate posters on each side. Beautiful coverings in bright colors and a mass of soft cushions were strewn all about. Rugs and tapestries in all sizes spun with designs in gold and silver hung on the walls and floors. Clearly the king and the Church had not taken all as Theodore claimed.
Everywhere Eleanor looked there were golden jewel-studded statues. Boxes and trunks, some opened, filled with jewels and silks. Some closed, hiding their treasure within.
Sir Theodore let out a low whistle, picking up a very large ruby. “I think there is enough in here to ransom a king.”
“Why is Lord Thornwood always scrimping and saving if he has all this?” Sylvester asked, stepping into the room and running his hands over an etched ivory table. “Why, he could buy more seed and livestock. We could—”
“What are you doing?” The loud voice bounced off the golden loot and echoed down the stone hallway.
Eleanor jumped and turned. Sir Hugh stood in the doorway, shaking with anger, fury flaring in his eyes. Those behind him hurried away, while Sylvester paled with terror and Sir Theodore tried to form words that would not come.
A flutter of fear shot from Eleanor’s stomach and clenched her throat. “My lord, you are safe,” she managed to squeak.
He did not answer, but turned his raw rage onto Sir Theodore. “I shall have your head for this.”
The knight fell to one knee. “My liege, I have failed you. I accept my punishment.”
Hugh nodded then turned on his steward. “And you, Sylvester, this is how you pay me for my kindness?”
The poor man was trembling so bad he could do naught but make a garbled sound.
What nonsense was this? Eleanor cleared her throat. “Stop this. These men have done nothing wrong. If you wish to chastise someone then I am your victim, for these men were doing nothing but following my orders.”
The tyrant turned his full attention to her. With several strong strides he crossed the room and stood before her. “You have overstepped your boundaries. Your meddlesome actions will cease now. You will not order my men about. You will not direct and instruct my servants or anyone else at this keep. You will have less rights than a scullery maid. Do you understand?”
She wanted to shout at him. She wanted to cry. But most of all she wanted to throw her arms about his neck and thank God he was safe.
But he wanted naught from her.
Hugh wanted her out of the way. Like all the others, he wanted her gone. Her throat grew tight. She fluttered her eyes trying to hold back the tears. With all her strength, she met his stormy blue gaze and gave a curt nod.
As fast as the gale broke, the tempest in his eyes receded. “Leave us,” he ordered.
Sir Theodore and Sylvester left the room in a cloud of dirt, dust and sludge, which caused his lordship to let out a thunderous sneeze.
“Forgive me,” he sniffed. “My nose has been subjected to many unpleasant aromas lately.”
Eleanor suddenly realized she did not look or smell like a field of lilies either. A moment of panic seized her when she noticed her blackened slippers had left footprints on one of the colorful threaded rugs. “Oh, I am so sorry. I will clean these immediately.”
She made to leave, but Sir Hugh grabbed her arm. “I do not care about the rugs. Leave them.” He let go of her arm and gave out a loud defeated sigh. “I should not have yelled at you so.”
“Nay. You had every right. I have become a nuisance and I should not be ordering people about as if I were mistress here.”
He blinked and then slowly grinned. “I think that is the first time you have agreed with me since you have arrived.”
“Oh nay, my lord. I have agreed with you on many things.”
“Mmm. In those times I think you have worked the situation to your advantage.”
Eleanor’s cheeks burned. She had thought he had not noticed, but apparently he had. “It will not happen again,” she murmured.
The smile evaporated as he gazed about the room. “Do not make promises you cannot keep. It never goes well. However, you will never try to enter this room again. Though I do wonder why you did?”
Truly did he not know? “To save you, my lord. I thought perhaps there was something inside here that could help us find you.”
He blinked again, then stared, and finally cleared his throat. “Whatever arises in the future regarding me or anyone else at this keep, you will never enter this room again. Do you understand?”
“But what lies here would do so much good for all the peasants and the holding.”
He raised his hand. “All here was earned with blood and death. None of it will bring prosperity—only destruction. There is not argument in this. A new bolt will be placed on the door and none will enter again.” His stern words brooked no comment.
She didn’t want to raise his ire again, but... “Putting a lock on the door will not make the room disappear.” Eleanor planned to say more, but the dark clouds were again beginning to form in his eyes and she had no wish to fan those winds again.
“This is not open for discussion, my lady.”
She bowed her head. “Anyway, it is good to have you back. All were quite worried about your whereabouts.” She clasped her hands behind her back hoping he would offer more information on his disappearance.
“Let us just say I had a very interesting meeting with a very interesting fellow.”
“Friend or foe, my lord?”
His head jerked slightly back as his eyebrows rose. “A little of both, I think. He gave me some information that may benefit you.”
“Me?” ‘Twas Eleanor’s turn to be stymied.
“It seems the king has decided to give you a dowry. He will send a missive to your uncle, Leonard de Tanie, instructing him that upon his death, his lands will go to you and your new husband.”
Dread filled Eleanor. The villains must have been messengers from the king. Why the ruse, she did not know, but in any case, all had been decided. “Then I shall be wed to Reginald de Orsey.”
Confusion crossed Sir Hugh’s face. “Nay. It is up to me who you shall marry.”
Her spirits soared briefly then became wary. “You, my lord?”
“Ah, do not look so suspicious. There are certain things that King Richard wishes.”
“And these things are?”
Sir Hugh cleared his throat. “Your future husband must be loyal to the crown and worthy of your hand.”
Indeed, she could believe the first part, but the second? Since when was a man concerned about what was best for a woman? Bah. ’Twas a nice line to soothe a man’s pride. “I am hoping you will ask what I think of this choice before it is made.”
His brows shot upward again. “But of course.” His gaze traveled up and down the length of her frame and then he dabbed at his nose. “I do hope you will bathe and fashion yourself appropriately. We don’t want your suitors to become discouraged by your appearance.”
Her skin began to warm again and she quickly averted her eyes to her soiled slippers. “Of course. I will make every effort to be pleasing.”
He gave a curt nod then strode to the door. “Good. Now it is time to leave this place.”
She held her ground. “One more thing. What about the chapel?”
Puzzlement returned to his face. “The chapel?”
“You want me not to meddle in your holdings. If I am building a chapel, I cannot interfere in other things.”
He looked up at the ceiling as if running their past conversation through his head. “I see you have not spoken with Darrin on this matter.”
“My lord?”
He shook his head. “I assure you, Lady Eleanor. You will be busy very soon with many suitors.”
“Perhaps. But still, I am certain you would like a man with a good work ethic?”
Sir Hugh nodded slowly.
“I could engage these suitors to help me build the chapel. This way you could weigh and measure each man’s ability to direct and carry out a task. Is this not how precisely you would do it?”
Again he gave a calculated nod.
Eleanor rushed on. “I will have Isobel help me and, perhaps, one good lad to get started. Mayhap you know of such a boy?”
She could tell he was warming to the idea when his handsome grin returned. “Aye. You can have James. Now that this is settled let us leave here.”
With dainty grimy fingers, Eleanor raised the hem of her soiled gown and tiptoed past Sir Hugh, very pleased with the outcome of their conversation. Thornwood would get a chapel and, she prayed, Sir Hugh would find her a most agreeable man. Someone who was very similar to him.