Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise.
Proverbs 20:1
The preparations for the tournament took on a life of their own. Even with the short notice, suitors still showed up in a steady stream. Men practiced with the bow while Guy and Darrin assessed each man’s skill. Theo still seemed to hold an edge above the rest of the competition, but that did not prevent him from practicing for hours. Theo would rise early to work on the chapel with Eleanor, Simon and James. In the afternoon, he would spar with the men and later toward evening, he would practice with the bow. All were saying Theo was a fine knight, one of the best, and a favorite of Lady Eleanor’s.
Hugh steeled his heart while Eleanor gave Theo warm, tender smiles. Through it all, Hugh thought about her soft, sweet lips yielding to his. What would Theo say if he knew how easily her will bent? Hugh groaned. Did he truly wish to embarrass Lady Eleanor? Nay, he would say nothing and go on, just as she had. Though deep down, he could not quell his jealousy every time he thought of Theo owning the right to kiss her whenever he wanted. Making her yield, making her his.
Hugh kicked the dirt beneath his feet. Nothing had order anymore. Nothing made sense. He rubbed his sore eyes as he looked out over his lands, which had been trampled and pillaged by Sir Reginald’s men. The nobleman was not happy when he was asked to vacate his chamber after Julian’s wife arrived. Sir Reginald ordered his men to set up a tent right in the middle of Hugh’s bean fields. If things did not get back to normal soon, all at Thornwood would starve this winter.
All control had disappeared. He couldn’t even reason with his blacksmith, who refused to let Eleanor anywhere near Isobel no matter how much Hugh pleaded. He could order the man, but that wasn’t right. A twist of agonizing laughter left Hugh’s lips. He had no authority anymore. Thornwood did indeed resemble a Roman circus—gladiators sparring, bards weaving silly stories, mercers hawking their wares, and men on horses running wild. Why, if he could muster up a few chariots they could have races.
“My lord, my lord,” Sylvester came running toward him, wearing a frantic look. “We have another problem.”
“Aye. What is it now?” Hugh asked wearily.
Sylvester dragged a worn cloth across his sweaty brow. “We have more visitors.”
“Well put them with the others.” Hugh placed his hands on his hips. “If there is no room left in the hall or bailey, have them sleep on the hard earth outside of the keep walls.”
The steward vigorously shook his head. “Nay, my lord that will not work.”
“And why is that?” Hugh snapped.
“It’s your sister, her husband and your nephew.”
Hugh couldn’t help it. The cynical laugh grew in his lungs and bellowed from his lips. Of course they were here. Why not? His whole family came to gawk at the spectacle.
“We-we have only one room left,” Sylvester stammered.
His words swept the cruel mirth away. They had one room. Jane’s room. Hugh waved a hand. “Nay. Not there.”
Sylvester removed his cap from his head and severely twisted it in his hands. “Then where, my lord?”
Hugh fought off the need to rub the crimping muscles in the back of his neck. “My sister can stay with my mother and Lady Eleanor. Sir Royce and my nephew can join Sir Guy and me in the stables or, if he prefers, he can sleep in the woods with Darrin.”
On that, Hugh stalked off in the direction of the stables. No time like the present to make up another bed.
’Twas there that his sister, Breanna, found him pitching hay into the troughs. “So Brother, you would rather work like a stable boy instead of spending time with your family.”
“Nay, Sister. It is good to see you, but I cannot stand idly by and watch the chaos unfold in my own hall.” Hugh tossed another pitchfork of hay into the wooden box.
“Even so, cease your task and give your sister a hug.” Breanna opened her arms.
Hugh dropped the tool and immediately walked into his older sister’s arms. Her fresh, soft scent took him back to his childhood. Whenever Hugh had felt slighted by his parents, it was Breanna who gave him comfort. She understood him. His dark moods and his unquenchable desire to be the best. She knew all his warts, but never judged him.
Taking a step back, he reached for her hands. The color of her eyes reflected his own; tall and blonde she resembled their father and Julian. “You are still the most enchanting sister I will ever have.”
A large smile spread across her face. “Such a safe comment, baby brother. I am your only sister.”
“True, but if I had a thousand, you would still be my favorite.”
She rolled her eyes. “Truly, you could not come up with a new remark after all these years.”
He tipped his head sideways and gave a little shrug. “Why would I wish to change the truth? You are my dear sister, who seems to be much happier now than you were the last time I saw you.”
Breanna let go of his hands and placed them over a very large belly. “’Tis because I am in love. The good Lord has smiled upon me by giving me a wonderful husband, and soon another child.”
There would be no way he could expect her, heavy with child, to sleep in an already cramped chamber with his mother and Eleanor. “I will tell Julian that Ariane must sleep with Lady Eleanor and Mother while he joins Guy and myself, here in the stables. I am sure he won’t be pleased.”
“Nor will Mother. You plan to put three ladies in one small chamber? Besides, Luke is too young to sleep out here. He is but five summers old. He needs his mother. ”
The merry banter from moments before withered in his chest. She had spoken the truth. His nephew would be more secure sleeping with Breanna. “There is no other place.” Unable to look his sister in the eye, he searched the ground for his pitchfork.
“Ah, but that is not true. But I can see you will not yield on this matter. So I will not say more on the subject. Julian has been raising a tent for Ariane and himself.”
An old familiar hurt brewed hot in his stomach. “It seems our brother has again done the right thing. Pray tell, what would we do without him?”
Breanna reached out and touched Hugh’s arm. “Stop this. Surely after all these years you have made peace with him?”
“Aye.” The word rang hollow even to his own ears. He leaned against a wooden stall and lowered his head. “I just don’t understand why everything he does is so perfect, yet everything I do becomes a mess. Look at my holding. All I have tried to right since Jane’s death has been destroyed.”
“Look at me, Brother.”
Hugh gave her a leveled look.
“No one’s life is perfect. If Julian had things his way, he would have stayed in the Holy Land. If I had gotten what I wanted, I would be living alone at Durville Keep. But, thankfully, God knew better than we did. Julian has a lovely wife and I have a loving husband to help me raise my children. None was what we wanted, but everything we have is what we needed.”
“Mayhap God has favored you and Julian, but tell me where is the favor if Thornwood falls into disrepair and its people starve this winter?” He reached down and picked up the pitchfork and began to vigorously heave the hay into the trough again. “Do not speak to me about God’s will and His love. For if this is His loving will, I want none of it.”
“Hugh. Stop. Please. I know you have had a rough life, especially when it has come to the affairs of the heart, but you must come and see how a devoted family can help you.”
Come and see. He froze in mid-pitch. Simon, Eleanor, and now his sister all used the same words the old man had used. Come and see, what? A riddle he could not figure out. Tension eased from his muscles until the tool slipped from his fingers. “I’m sorry. We have not seen each other for a long time and here I am arguing with you. Forgive me.”
Breanna slid her arm though his. “There is nothing to forgive, Brother. For I too would be at wits end with this group at my door.” She cast her gaze at the three pallets on the ground. “I hope this will work. I have heard Lady Grace is coming, even though she is more so heavier with child than I. We may have to change the sleeping arrangements again.”
But of course. What would Thornwood be without a baby or two?
The next eve the hall was filled, indeed. Lady Grace had arrived and Guy became the dutiful husband, attending to his wife who looked as if she could drop her babe right in the middle of their feast.
Nonetheless, it was not the inevitable birth nor the presence of his family that pressed hard on Hugh’s conscious this night. Nay, Eleanor held full possession of his mind and thoughts, just like her jubilant personality drew others. A flock of men gathered about her, laughing at her witty words. Her gaze often drifted to Theo who sat by her side. Hugh’s insides grew raw as he lifted the wine cup often to his lips.
“Slow down Brother, or you will have an aching head in the morn.” Julian leaned toward him. “Mayhap we should get some air?”
Hugh shrugged off his brother’s suggestion as a few minstrels began to strum a merry song. Many in the hall began to dance, but this did not improve Hugh’s mood. His gaze hard-fixed on the one woman who refused to even look his way. The spirited melody drew Julian and Ariane, Breanna and Royce and even his mother and a gray-haired knight to the floor.
“Why not join your family,” Guy shouted from further down the table.
Hugh ignored his friend’s words and took another long pull from his goblet.
But then Eleanor stood... Theo led her to the dance. They joined the merriment, hopping and skipping, switching partners as the dance required. Eleanor’s infectious laughter drew smiles from all. She talked freely to everyone, but she would not look at Hugh. Nay, not even once. She taunted him with her graceful steps and light, airy voice, which drifted above the rest.
His gut grew hard and his disposition grew dark. When Eleanor’s hand twisted intimately with Theo’s, Hugh ricocheted to his feet and pushed his way to her side. Stunned, Theo stepped away, yielding his position to his liege.
The sunny disposition on Eleanor’s face fell away as the music faltered and the dancers stopped. “What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Dancing,” Hugh shouted, waving to the musicians to begin their tune again. “Is it wrong to want to dance with my family?”
“Nay,” she said quietly. “But there are many a maid who would happily partner with you.”
Hugh leaned in close smelling her sweet, fragrant chestnut hair. “But I wish to dance with you.”
The music started up again and the dancing continued. Hugh stepped right. Eleanor’s eyes widened as he brushed his leg against her left side. She hopped and spun to another partner as did he. The comely maid smiled up at him, but Hugh’s gaze remained on his last partner.
The next hop and spin brought him in front of his mother. “What are you up to, my son?”
He barely glanced at her; his attention still elsewhere. “What do you mean? I am just dancing.”
She harrumphed. “Really? Is that what you called it? You’re stumbling about and making Lady Eleanor feel very uncomfortable with your gawking.”
He met his mother’s glare. “I’m not gawking,” he slurred. The beat in the melody picked up and he hopped and spun away from his mother and bumped into another maid who giggled. Before he could offer his apologies, he stumbled back into his sister.
“Get off the floor if you can’t keep the steps,” Breanna hissed.
“I-I am only trying to dance.” Hugh frowned when he noticed another knight brush close to Eleanor.
“Do try to focus on your partner, not Theo’s prize.”
Hugh winced when his sister slammed her foot down on his toes.
A few more whirls and stumbles and Hugh stood before Eleanor again. Her cheeks were flushed from the dance, and her lips where moist and lush red. They both raised their hands to the melodic beat. Her fingertips lightly touched his, palm to palm, a wave of heat swept through his body.
Then he did the most unthinkable thing. He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close to him, her lips less than a breath from his. The music dwindled and the hum in his ears ceased. Eleanor turned her head away from his. “Please, don’t,” she whispered.
Hugh looked up to see his mother and sister’s frowns, Julian and Royce’s cocked eyebrows, and Theo’s venomous scowl. Pulling straight, Hugh backed away from Eleanor. “Forgive me, my lady.” He bowed and with long strides headed for the great hall entry where the cool, crisp air met his flushed body.
The bailey held no relief for him either. More suitors, mercers, peasants, and guards stood about glowing fires, the smoke curling up into the air, filling Hugh’s lungs and twisting his gut. He did not wish to become ill before so many. Lifting his chin high, he tried to take even strides to the keep’s gate. The task proved to be harder than he thought.
Once beyond the entrance, he slipped away into the woods, but he stayed clear of Darrin and his men. He had had enough drink; his tongue thick and tingling. His vision blurred as he stumbled along. Finally, he fell to his knees, the wretched wine spewing from his lips.
What had he done? Upon Jane’s death he swore he would never get drunk again, but here he was less than a few years later, expelling his innards in a pile of dead leaves. All because of a woman. ’Twas always that way. If his life was a mess, ’twas a woman’s fault. The cool wind whistled through the trees calling him a liar.
Aye, they were right, not a woman’s fault, but his own. His heart always went where it should not. Years ago, he stole Jane’s virginity even though he knew she was Julian’s betrothed, and now he wanted to steal Eleanor from Theo. Why did he always take what wasn’t his?
Hugh wiped the spittle from his lips and rose to his feet, only to take a few steps and fall to his knees again. He gave out a low, deep, raw cry. “God! If you are there, please forgive me. Help me to come and see what you want me to do. I’m such a fool.” With a strong fist, Hugh pounded his chest and wept until he could no longer.
Before his vision faded away, he could have sworn an old man, heavily cloaked, stood above him.