The King's Gift by Kate Martyn

Author:Kate Martyn [Martyn, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: England, Fiction / Romance - Historical, Historical Fiction, Historical Romance, John Lackland
ISBN: 9781601741899
Publisher: Uncial Press
Published: 2014-09-12T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Sleep eluded her most of the night, and what fitful slumber she did find towards dawn was filled with dark and disturbing dreams. Her rest was finally shattered by Hugh's peremptory knock. He did not wait for her to answer but came straight in and loomed over her in the dimness.

"We leave at sunrise, madam. I have tarried too long here. The king commands our presence at Windsor."

She sat up, vainly trying to gather her thoughts as he stood by her bed.

"The king has signed the Great Charter and the barons promise peace. All hostages are to be freed. But he wishes to see you before you return to your convent. If you wish breakfast you had better be quick."

She dragged her clothes on, with only one thought constant. He was the stern gaoler again. The rest of it must have been a ruse, as she had suspected.

She had barely swallowed her bread and meat before they were away. The sky teased them all day with a few little cloudbursts. Rain was pouring down when they finally drew into a little village at nightfall. The soldiers had commandeered a cottage, and the occupants were leaving as Eleanor dismounted into Hugh's arms.

"You cannot throw them out of their own home in this weather."

"You do well not to interfere in my arrangements, madam." He was clearly exasperated past bearing.

"I will not enter unless you tell me they have shelter too." She took hold of the door frame.

"Fine." He brushed past her.

She was soon soaked to the skin. The peasants stared at her from their shelter in the little byre beside the cottage. Eleanor finally spoke to them. "Do you have somewhere to go?"

"Aye, my lady. We're just waiting for the rain to stop before we go yonder. And he paid us. In real money. More than my month's wages."

She went inside, dripping wet, and stood just inside the door uncertainly. They all studiously ignored her. Hugh, apparently fully occupied with carefully drying his sword, finally jerked his head towards the fire. She drew closer to it and took off her sodden mantle but her saturated robe clung uncomfortably.

"Sounds like the rain has stopped for the moment. Go and forage for supper, men." His soldiers departed, and Hugh put down his sword. He threw over her bundle and it landed at her feet. "Change into dry clothes."

He turned his back as she peeled off her wet garments. Her old habit, though dry and clean, felt unpleasantly coarse and heavy after the fine new clothes she had been wearing. She unbraided her hair and ran her fingers through it.

"Learn to keep your tongue still and your hasty judgements to yourself and we will get along better, my lady."

"I will try to remember."

He wrung out her mantle and draped it over a crude bench before the blaze. Eleanor began to braid up her hair again but he produced a comb. "It will tangle if you don't comb it out. Let me do it." He tugged the comb through her tresses.

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