A Wager for the Widow. Elisabeth Hobbes
Mother isn’t even looking for me. No one will ever marry me!’
Eleanor took her sister’s hand and smiled. ‘You’re three years younger than I was when I married Baldwin. There’s plenty of time for suitors.’
Anne’s face lit up. Eleanor bit her lip thoughtfully. Anne had been only ten years old when Baldwin had come into Eleanor’s life. How could she begin to explain what it felt like to be presented to a stranger ten years her senior and informed she would be his bride? ‘Don’t be too keen to give your freedom away, it will happen soon enough,’ she said earnestly. ‘Let’s not talk any more of this though. Dinner seems a long time ago and I want some breakfast.’
Leaning on her sister’s arm for support, Eleanor made her way to the Great Hall. Unlike the evening meal, breakfast was a more informal affair with members of the household coming and going as their needs and duties dictated. By the time Eleanor and Anne arrived the servants and the girls’ parents had long since departed—Lady Fitzallan to her solar and Sir Edgar no doubt to his library—so the hall was empty. The two girls settled on to the padded seat in the window alcove and set about devouring the remaining bread and ale. Their earlier conversation was forgotten as they swapped tales of what had passed since their last meeting.
The door opened and Eleanor’s heart sank as William Rudhale entered. She had hoped him to be miles away by now, riding back with his wine order. Rudhale did not seem to notice the women at first. He stood on the threshold and glanced around the room, his brow knotted with concentration.
‘William!’
Anne’s unexpected cry of greeting brought Eleanor out of her reverie. She frowned at her sister, but Anne was watching the steward too intently to notice, her cheeks reddening visibly.
On realising he was not alone the steward gave a start, but his face broke into a charming smile. He walked to them in long, confident strides and bowed deeply. Eleanor studied him surreptitiously. The last time she had seen him he had been well into a flagon of wine with Edmund. Unless her brother had greatly changed his habits, by rights this morning Rudhale should be suffering from a sore head and longing for a darkened room. Instead he looked fresh and well, his hair curling about his collar and his beard trimmed close. He was dressed plainly in a dark-blue tunic and black breeches. The leather belt that drew his waist was ornately stamped: the only touch of vanity in an otherwise sober outfit.
‘Good morning, William. I didn’t see you yesterday,’ Anne said, her words rushing out in a tumble before anyone else could speak. Her eyes glowed. ‘I looked for you when I was riding, but Tobias wasn’t in the stable. Will you be riding today? I shall be.’
As she heard the excitement in Anne’s voice a terrible realisation struck Eleanor. Her sister was attracted to Rudhale. With a head filled with tales of romance and bandits, naturally Anne would find such a well-looking young man attractive. His scar would no doubt only contribute an air of danger and add to his appeal rather than detract from it. If only she had told Anne the horseman’s identity and warned her away when she had the chance.
Eleanor leaned forward and stared at the steward, watching his reaction as a fox might watch a rabbit. Her sudden movement caught Rudhale’s attention. His eyes slid to Eleanor’s and widened as he obviously realised the conclusion she had arrived at. He shook his head in a gesture of denial. The movement was so small as to be almost imperceptible, but his meaning was clear. He was aware of Anne’s feelings, but did not reciprocate them.
Rudhale smiled politely at Anne, his hands stiffly by his side. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Anne,’ he said formally. ‘I hope you enjoy your ride, but I have so much to do today after arriving back so late yesterday evening.’ His tone was polite, but his face showed none of the vitality it had contained when he had demanded the kiss on the ferry. Eleanor sat back against the window frame, her shoulders dropping slightly with relief. Anne sighed with dissatisfaction.
‘Perhaps your sister will accompany you,’ Rudhale suggested, smiling at Eleanor with a good degree more warmth than he had her sister.
‘She can’t. She’s injured her foot,’ Anne replied. She sighed heavily. ‘Ah well, I shall have to ride alone and hope I encounter a dashing horseman like Eleanor did yesterday!’
Eleanor’s mouth dropped open at her sister’s indiscreet words. Rudhale’s eyes lit up and he looked at her with interest.
‘Those were not my words as well you are aware, Anne,’ Eleanor said sharply. Her stomach curled with embarrassment. The thought that Rudhale might believe she had described him as such was excruciating. ‘I think I shall return to my room. I have some business to attend to.’ She lowered her feet to the floor, wincing slightly. Anne moved to help her, but Rudhale stepped forward.
‘Allow me to assist you, Lady Peyton,’ Rudhale said gallantly. ‘It would be a shame for your sister to delay her ride.’ He held an arm out to her.
Eleanor opened her mouth to refuse him, but changed her mind. The necessity of needing his help won out over her reluctance to be in his company. They walked silently side by side, Rudhale supporting her weight as though she was little more than a child. He slipped his arm around her waist as she leaned heavily against him. His hips brushed against hers and the contours of his broad chest were unmistakable through his tunic. Try as she might, Eleanor could not ignore the way her heartbeat quickened at his touch.
‘I thought you were leaving today,’ she muttered as they left the Great Hall.
‘Other matters prevented me going personally so I sent a messenger. I trust dinner lived up to your expectations last night, Lady Peyton?’ Rudhale asked as they walked slowly along the corridor.
‘Perfectly, Master Rudhale,’ Eleanor said coolly, ‘Though I’ll admit they were low to begin with.’
Rudhale stopped walking. He cocked his head, a small frown furrowing his brow. ‘How so, my lady?’ he asked. ‘You do me an injustice.’
‘An injustice?’ Eleanor folded her arms across her chest and gave a short laugh of disbelief. ‘What indication have you given me that you are anything more than an irresponsible fool?’ she asked scathingly. ‘Your behaviour yesterday was hardly to your credit. Leaving aside the injury you caused me, if my father knew what you had demanded do you think you would continue in his employment for long?’
Rudhale’s gaze became iron hard. ‘Contrary to what my appearance might suggest I am not in the habit of “demanding”. I merely suggested it because when a beautiful woman ended up in my arms it would be foolish not to!’ He crossed his own arms and planted his feet apart, mirroring Eleanor’s stance. ‘And you did not tell Sir Edgar what happened when you had the opportunity,’ he pointed out. ‘Why is that? What stopped you revealing my improper behaviour? It can’t be simply because you thought me dashing, though I owe you thanks for that compliment.’
A knot of irritation blocked Eleanor’s throat, choking her retort. Truly the man was more arrogant than she had believed possible! ‘Believe me, Master Rudhale, I do not find your behaviour “dashing”. That was my sister’s word as I already explained. Nothing could be further from the truth.’
Rudhale was grinning again. Really, did the man find everything in life amusing?
Eleanor smoothed her hair back, conscious that she was losing her composure in front of him.
‘I did not tell my father purely for my own ends. I have spent too long battling to be allowed my independence for some fool to ruin that for me. The fact it benefitted you is purely coincidental. Now you may help me to my room or leave me to manage by myself, but I do not wish to speak of this any further.’
* * *
Lady Peyton began to limp away, leaving Will staring at her slender back. The encounter was not going how he had pictured it when he had first seen her in the Great Hall. He had congratulated himself on succeeding in getting her alone so quickly, but he had not anticipated her being quite so cold. Seeing his chance to lay the groundwork for the wager about to disappear, Will caught her by the arm. She glared at him once again.