Anne sat tactfully on a different bench to the one Eleanor and Fulk occupied. The little queen had not been able to hide her delight at finding Fulk waiting for them in the garden; now she kept watching the elder pair as if waiting for something magical to happen. She was probably already disappointed, Eleanor thought, and if she was not then eventually she would be. True love, as Anne had determinedly labelled it, was supposed to be far more exciting than sitting cosily together on a bench, doing and saying nothing, although they did have a queen acting as accomplice and there would be excitement aplenty if this were ever discovered. But for now she treasured her time, relishing the sense of peace Fulk’s solid frame and quiet, assured calm brought her.
She and Anne had entered through the main gate, telling the gate guard that they were not to be bothered. The entire trip from castle to garden had been filled with wedding related chatter, and Eleanor had carefully timed things so she was repeating the main part of her vows under Anne’s patient tutelage when they approached the guard. As long as they kept their voices to a normal level once inside the sheltering walls they would be safe from spies. Fulk had been equally careful in his approach; he believed no one had seen him.
Eleanor’s happy peace of heart was soon being assaulted. Anne’s blissful enthusiasm slowly began to wear thin, then vanished, then she began to fidget and looked decidedly uneasy. When Anne began giving the impression she was seated on an ant’s nest Eleanor asked her, “What is wrong?”
“This is a terrible risk, if this is found out Fulk will die and we will be utterly ruined.”
Anne had said exactly what Eleanor had expected, although it had taken longer for the gloss to chip away than she had anticipated. The statement presented a very good starting place for what she had come here to say … but Eleanor cringed away from it, daunted and more than a little fearful. “My father created this garden for my mother, long before I was born. I have always heard he did it simply to make her happy.” Eleanor adjusted the arm she had resting around Fulk’s waist so it sat more comfortably; safely out of Anne’s line of sight she began to tickle his ribs with her thumb. “I wonder if they ever sat here like this?” She glanced up at the knight; he was managing to keep a straight face. Fulk glanced sidelong at her and winked.
Surprisingly Anne answered confidently, “They would have, but without the chaperone. The notches cut into the back wall were done at his order so he could climb over to meet her in secret, without half the court waiting outside with petitions. A rather transparent deception, but it worked.” At Eleanor’s reaction she asked, “Why are you amazed? They were a happy pairing.”
“Really?”
“William often speaks of her. Have you heard that old song, the one which starts, ‘Though I wander far, you are always in my heart’? He wrote that for her, anonymous, and had his minstrel play it. Back then everyone knew who had written it and who it was dedicated to, even if it was never openly said. It fell from favour when the queen died; now it is mostly forgotten, he had to tell me of it himself. He thought I would appreciate the tale, and I did … for several reasons.”
“My beloved regal ancestor played courtly lover? But he seems so …” Eleanor let it lie at that; Anne seemed quite attached to her husband.
“He was young once.”
“Songs and gardens.” She snorted. “As if that could make up for the rest.”
“What rest?” asked Anne curiously.
Eleanor found herself reluctant to speak, to explain a past and maybe predict a future too. Anne sat up and stopped swinging her feet, waiting. Fulk’s hold on Eleanor tightened and he answered for her, “A wife is much more convenient to vent your temper on?”
“Yes,” agreed Eleanor sadly. “She was an English noble; her family was powerful but very small in number, and many of her close relatives had died one way or another. That is why she was a better catch than a foreign bride; she was incredibly wealthy and she brought direct control over large parts of England. She had no real protection, even assuming her family would have cared anyway.”
Anne shook her head and declared vehemently, “You are both so wrong about each other. It is really sad.”
“Wrong?” Eleanor sat bolt upright, pulling away from Fulk. “Oh yes, he is really a saint. I saw his halo once. Flowers sprout under his feet as he walks, butterflies come out of his nose when he sneezes, and a choir of angels sing him to sleep each night after a day full of charitable acts of mercy.”
“I was terrified of him after what he did to you; he saw that and explained himself. He will only ever hit someone if they have given him cause, and he insists he never draws blood or does lasting harm. So he would not have hurt his first wife without cause, just as he would not harm me.”
Eleanor said scathingly, “If you believe that you are a fool and denying the evidence your own eyes have seen.”
“I asked about you, because that was obviously not true. You are the exception to his rule, but only the part about drawing blood. I asked why again. He said, ‘Because that is the only way to make her take notice; she ignores anything less.’ Then, after a pause so long I thought he had forgotten I was there, he added very quietly, ‘And because she makes me lose my temper.’ For the rest, he was not lying; if anything he is merciful. He had his cause once but did not use it; he let me go. So your mother would have been quite safe unless she really upset him, but that is the case in most marriages.”
“He broke my ribs and beat me unconscious because my brother betrayed him, my brother, not me. He claimed otherwise but I could tell my ‘failure’ to entrap John was just an excuse. He always loved John, but not me. Never me. So when John hurt him he took it out on me, just as he did that night here in the palace, just after John was dragged home, just as he has done many times in the past. Cause, excuse, whatever you want to call it, has nothing to do with it.”
“He did love you; he chose your name because-”
“I don’t want to hear!” shouted Eleanor. Fulk’s hand exerted a gentle, warning pressure on her wrist. Eleanor allowed Fulk to pull her back into sitting comfortably against him, grateful for his quiet efforts to calm her down before she let her temper get the better of her and did something very regrettable. She moderated her voice, “He is what he is, clearly different to you than to me. Leave it at that.”
“But-”
“You think I want to wonder why he can be so kind to you but never, ever to me? Why nothing about me pleases him and never has? Everything I am is wrong, or inferior to one of my siblings; he made that quite clear from the very beginning. It does not matter what I do now, and perhaps it never did; he will always hate me, and believe me that galls.”
Anne looked almost as if she were about to start crying. “You are both so wrong-”
“I don’t care. This is not why I arranged this meeting; it is a waste of time far better spent. If you must preach about Saint William do it later, and not to me.”
Anne opened her mouth to say something else; Eleanor glared at her, willing her to admit defeat before matters became even worse. Anne closed her mouth again so abruptly her teeth clicked. The queen stared intently down at her clasped hands, shoulders slumped. Eleanor felt a stab of guilt; involving Anne in all this was bad enough without snapping at the girl.
Fulk continued his soothing efforts, only to unintentionally spoil them with a single question. “You said you wanted to explain something?”
Left no way out, and seeing how her last diversion had turned out, Eleanor nodded. “Yes.” She got a firm grip on her emotions, searching for a place to start. Slowly she said, “It is hard to begin … it all links together, circling around and intertwining, one thing to another and another …” Now she was on the brink, after days of inching her way towards this point, taking little baby steps and focusing only on getting here. She could still stop, stand still and let everything continue as it had been and let others, and God, decide the outcome. Perhaps there was no need for her to do this. Perhaps there was. She took a last breath of this calm before the storm, gathered her courage and took the next, irrevocable step. “No matter how good you are it only takes one small mistake…”
“Then don’t make a mistake,” said Fulk simply. “Don’t do anything to put yourself at risk. You know what I wish, but as you told me wish and want are two different things, one possible, one not. I want you to be safe; I can’t protect you from a king and a spymaster. I’d die to save you, but it would only leave you to face them alone. But don’t misunderstand; if you leave then I follow, I’m your knight and always will be.”
“Remember I said you were all I had?” asked Eleanor. Fulk nodded. “I was wrong. I had a home, I had Trempwick to make all the hard decisions, he gave me some protection from my family and the world, I had a purpose and something to do with my life, even if it promised to be short and end with my death.” Eleanor hesitated. “The mistake I meant was not mine; it was Trempwick’s. Now I don’t know what to do; he was always the one to worry about things, the spymaster while I was only an agent.” Eleanor considered the many different ways she could say this. With a sigh she settled for the bluntest, “Trempwick is a traitor; he plans to put me on the throne as his puppet.” After a brief pause Eleanor added honestly, “I think. I do not have evidence, just a thousand little things which all add up this way when taken together. He was always the one to worry about proof and to interpret the gathered facts; he was the one I went to for help. What am I supposed to do without him?” In the shocked silence which followed her announcement Eleanor once again drew on the peace and clarity of mind Fulk’s presence often brought her. Refocused she said, “From Constance’s eating habits I think Hugh may be more willing to listen than I had thought; thank heaven for small aids.”
Anne picked on this easiest starting place. “Constance’s eating habits?”
“One of those interlinking titbits; if you assume Trempwick is a traitor and has been planning this for some time then it is logical to also assume he does not want Hugh to have heirs. Therefore all those miscarriages, including the few on other women, begin to look suspicious, rather than a simple fault with Hugh’s seed. Therefore someone must have been dosing Constance, and the others, with something like hyssop shortly after each pregnancy was discovered. A spymaster could easily set that up; even placing the guilt elsewhere and covering up his tracks would be relatively simple. Now she is making it very difficult for anyone to add something unexpected to her food and drink, therefore she, and probably Hugh, must be suspicious of foul play.”
Fulk said, “Let’s take this to the main point; could you be a queen?”
“While my father is alive, no. When he is dead and only Hugh is left? Quite possibly. My brother is not terribly popular; he is competent but not outstanding, and he does not have a gift for winning people over to his side. Hugh is rumoured to be a bastard; untrue but insidious, it provides an excuse for disloyalty, and some do honestly believe it. As everyone knows bastards cannot inherit anything under law, certainly not kingdoms. There are no other legitimate male heirs unless you go to underage grandsons, distant grandsons off in Spain, the product of a mother who is a famed adulteress. Poor Adele is another of these little tangents; assume everything is as publicly acknowledged for now. Both of my surviving elder sisters are married; they have better claims but are far away, and their husbands have their hands full with their own realms. That leaves me as the best example of royal blood available, though my niece, John’s daughter, would also have a claim, inferior to mine and she is less useful.”
“She’s just a baby; controlling minors is difficult when half the country wants to play with the baby,” said Fulk.
“Indeed. She is also with her mother, locked away safely because of John’s treason. She may or may not be barred from possessing or passing on any right to the throne; I do not know the details of the decisions made there. Assuming she is not barred I am still better by far. I could marry Trempwick, binding me to him, making it harder for others to take control over me unless widowed and remarried, and, importantly, I could support Trempwick actively. I could be loyal to him, exactly as he trained me to be. I am also old enough to make a reasonable figurehead, far better than some toddler barely able to talk. To the main question: a woman on the throne; tricky, but possible. There would be fighting at the start, to oust Hugh and scare off anyone else who might try their hand. I could be competent if I put my mind to it, and given enough time to prove myself most worries could be dealt with. Of course the husband is vital; if he was unpopular, incompetent, or a hindrance in some way people would try to remove him, and possibly me also.”
Eleanor drew a deep breath. “Trempwick is powerful, noble, although only midlevel nobility by birth he has recently risen dramatically, a friend of our current king, and as spymaster he has been able to set things up, I think, clearing the way of his most dangerous rivals and wooing allies covertly. Approaching people openly with his plans would be madness; he must have set up fronts, broken things up into small pockets of seemingly unrelated grievances. I am not sure about this part; I have no evidence, just guesswork. But with this in mind it is not hard to see the old Duke of Northumberland as a man lured into folly and removed - with the blame falling on my father, mark you - because he was somehow dangerous to Trempwick’s plans. That, typically, leads on to John also being led into foolishness and removed … but that is another tangent. Trempwick could remove people easily, placing the blame openly on the king, or working through agents of agents of agents to kill and put the blame on others. I think he must have been doing this for years.”
“As far as ruling goes, and loyalty, as long as Trempwick was competent and supported by much of the nobility, and as long as I did not annoy people, it could work. People will go where they see advantage; so long as the powerful felt they profited by my rule they would side with me until they saw a better opportunity. Some few would stick with me because my royal blood is undoubtedly pure; sentimental family loyalty, and royal blood counts for a lot. Once crowned and anointed I would gain a few more of the steadfastly loyal. The clergy may present a few problems, but I feel only a fanatical few would quote a woman’s inferiority and God defined place as subject to men as a reason to keep me off the throne – widows and heiresses already control their lands and all that goes with them until marriage. There might be a few people wondering how I could be properly subordinate to my husband while still being queen, but that could be handled somehow. A split between private life and public life, maybe. I do not know and nor do I really care. It would only be a small number of people worrying about that anyway; everyone else would have an eye to their gains, and I think many would admit that a queen sounds far easier to exploit than a king. The Pope’s official blessing could be secured via the usual methods; a large quantity of gold and some diplomatic bargaining. Where the Pope leads most others follow.”
Eleanor paused so they could digest the influx of information, also to rest her voice. She was not used to speaking so much, and her throat was becoming sore. “Back to Hugh, my father and weddings. It is possible to say that my father intends Trempwick to be his heir, knowing Hugh is a bastard. He publicly betrothed him to me and stated very clearly he intended us to marry; that says he trusts, likes and approves of Trempwick. I was reluctant to marry, but perhaps I changed my mind when it was explained this was a part of my beloved regal ancestor’s plan to make me his heir, or so the story could be spread. In the future my father could announce I am his heir. It will not happen, but it could easily be claimed he intended it to be so but never managed to make the change to his will … or a forged will could be produced, and then he never managed to make the announcement. Games, nothing but games, but important ones. The nobility might not honestly believe such a thing, but the peasants and townsfolk might; a story of a king foully betrayed by his wife and tragically dying before he could alter his succession because his illegitimate son hindered him so he could hold on to his power and status for as long as possible does grab the imagination, and if told correctly it can convince those ignorant of court affairs. Or you can put a somewhat different twist on this theme and say that I was intended to be the heir and Trempwick was considered the best person to support me.”
All in all only the beginning would be tough; once crowned, anointed and settled on the throne with resistance dead or put to flight the worst would be over and the largest problems defeated. As long as, and mark this as it is most important, my father is already dead in a way which does not link back to Trempwick or myself he stands a chance of pulling this scheme off. While my father is alive it is impossible; no one would support me over him. Trempwick is not ready to move yet; he need to be married to me publicly, and he needs me settled down and happy in that marriage. It would also be suspicious if the king died too soon after our wedding, only for Trempwick to begin his attempt on the throne.”
“So what was Trempwick’s mistake?” asked Fulk.
Eleanor lightly tapped his leg where he had been wounded. “Those bandits, or perhaps more accurately what came shortly after. He sent them with several ways to gain that I can see. He could kill you without turning me against him, depriving me of your influence and allowing him to comfort me and prove how caring he can be. He could possibly play hero and save me if I was captured. He scared and shocked me, giving him excellent reason to be kind and sympathetic. He blamed Hugh for the attack, turning me a little more away from my family. Was it Hugh? No. Trempwick trained me to think how he wants; this one time it came back and bit him. I obediently came to the desired conclusion, that it was Hugh who was responsible, and he agreed and continued to encourage me to think that way. The subject was then neatly dropped, except for the rare reminder that I was in danger, and they focused more on the future than on the supposed past. Most of those reminders were started by me to check his reactions and try to learn more. But, and here was his error, I had also been trained to think carefully, and so I did when I was safely out from under his scrutiny.
“Hugh gains nothing but risks plenty by trying to kill or kidnap me. He could not possibly hope to keep his involvement quiet; he would upset both my father and Trempwick, and also me, if I count at all. Unless you assume someone is slowly twisting things to give me a good chance at the throne I pose little threat to Hugh’s position. He could not marry me off to someone of his choice either; most consider my betrothal with Trempwick to be binding even though it was forced. Also the marriage would count as forced, and unless I stood by it it would be easy to dissolve, and having had my bodyguard murdered, been kidnapped, and then forced to marry someone who would more than likely rape me to consummate the marriage I would not be the least bit inclined to help them out. Any fool could see that. Also, Hugh could have found much better men than those bandits, and in larger quantities; if you are going to take a risk you make as certain of things as possible. But Trempwick only had a very short time to get his men hired and in place, if my theory as to why he suddenly sent us on that mission is true. He was not fooled by my excuses; he believed Gerbert. I think Gerbert may have been the horseman following us; if you remember he stole my horse, and the horseman appeared to be riding a grey.” Eleanor waved her free hand dismissively. “But Gerbert ties into the bit about servants; so forget it for now. My whereabouts are very carefully guarded; only a few know of them. Trempwick would have done better to assume one of his servants was in outside employ and a traitor; it would have been far more believable.”
Eleanor wearily let her head drop onto Fulk’s shoulder. “Once I realised it could not be Hugh I began to wonder why Trempwick wanted me to think it was, and from there I found suspecting him added a new twist to several other things, then I began to see a few other new things, which also added a new understanding, and after that I found many odd little things which count as nothing alone but add up with everything else to cast real doubt on Trempwick. We were stupid to think we had fooled him; he knew how we felt from the beginning, perhaps before we knew ourselves. He did not see or know everything though; he was furious when we met here, in this garden because it meant he could not find out what we were doing. He was also fooled with the necklace, and unless he hired someone who could see through walls there is no way he could have us watched when we were alone in a room together. We assumed he would act if he knew, but he needed me to like him, trust him and rely on him. He watched and he learned, then applied what he had learned when it was safe for him to court me. I only noticed the little things he stole from you because I was wary; he made your words and actions over into his own. It was only a small part of what he did; most of his courtship was his own.” Eleanor paused, and admitted truthfully, “There was some attraction there, and fondness, just not to the depth he claimed.”
Anne exclaimed, “But everyone thought you liked him! William, Hugh, even Fulk all told me how you liked Trempwick. I did not want to believe, but they were so instant, and they all told me separately.”
“Good; I may have fooled him then.”
“How?”
“I would rather not talk about that, but I suppose I must.” She pulled on the arm Fulk had resting about her waist, pulling it tighter. She took a firm hold on his other hand. “I am a fast learner when I want to be; I studied what he did and turned it back on him. I got him used to the idea it took me a while to do anything if he threw something new or unexpected at me. I used what emotion I did have as substitute for what I did not; fear, in particular, makes a good stand-in for passion.” That could be left precisely at that; they did not need to know that on a very few occasions, mostly when Trempwick was not pushing things very far and she was feeling very keenly the loneliness Fulk’s departure had left, it really had not been entirely unpleasant.
“I used all the cunning I had and it nearly was not enough, or perhaps it was not and he is just letting me hang myself. One night ...” Eleanor broke off, frowning as she thought. If she told them about Trempwick’s repeated seduction attempts Fulk would be very upset on her behalf and Anne would be equally unhappy, not to mention she’d nearly die of embarrassment relating it. No, she would not mention any of that unless she had to. “He got his mother, or she decided of her own accord because I did not fool her, to ask what he could not, to ask why, for all my supposed liking for him, I would not sleep with him. Some very nasty accusations were made, but I think I managed to allay his suspicions by losing my temper, shouting about a lot of the excuses I had been using in a very hurt manner, and then adding that it felt like incest.” And that too could be left at just that; they did not need to know there had been a lot of truth in her hurt anger and what she had said. She had told Fulk last night that her feelings towards Trempwick had always been so mixed up she could not hope to unravel them; sadly that was still all too true. “I really do not want to talk about it.”
Eleanor looked up at the sun, gauging how much time had passed. “There is plenty more, but I do not know how long we safely have here, and there can be no more meetings like this. Trempwick has spies everywhere.” Eleanor looked at Anne. “One of your maids will be a spy, possibly more than one.” And at Fulk. “You have a squire? He may be a spy also. Trust no one.” Back to Fulk. “It is going to be hard for me to see you again; I cannot risk meeting you secretly again. I trust no messengers. So I will ask that you wait and continue as normal; if I need you somehow I will find a way. Hugh may summon you and question you, if I manage to get him to listen to me he might. Be truthful, but be sure not to let slip anything which might lead him to suspect we love each other.”
“Of course; I like not being maimed and dead.”
Eleanor pulled away from Fulk, sitting back so she could study his face. “One more thing; when they were … persuading me to get betrothed to Trempwick you were locked up? At whose order?”
“The king’s.” Fulk’s answer was quick, positive, and the same as the one he had given two months ago. “He told me so himself; remember he gave me his ring in compensation. I still have it.” He indicated the leather pouch fastened onto his belt.
“If you had been free would you have tried to help me? Honestly?”
The look on Fulk’s face was nearly enough to break her heart. “Of course I would have,” he said softly.
Eleanor considered this, nodding slowly. “I need to talk to my beloved regal ancestor; typically he is not here and will not be back for a long time.” She sighed. “That man is just plain inconvenient.” She spent a few moments meditating on what promised to be a miserable meeting if it ever happened. “Anne? Do you know why he ordered Fulk locked up?”
“I know he has heard good reports on Fulk and his loyalty, but that is all.”
“So … he may have thought there was a tiny chance you would intervene because you are loyal … maybe. But if he does not know you love me then the only motive you are left with for your probable suicide is loyalty, and that is a rare commodity. A failed rescue attempt would have left me feeling even worse, so it would have been almost useful for him. If Trempwick had asked him to lock you away … now that would make sense because of what he knew … but then it would have been in Trempwick’s best interests to have you loose. If you had tried to rescue me you would more than likely die; the blame would be firmly at my father’s feet, and Trempwick could comfort me over your loss as well as all the rest.” Eleanor sighed again, fed up of thinking herself around in circles and running into dead ends. “Trempwick wants you free; my father does not have very good grounds to lock you safely away … it makes no sense!”
Anne considered, then suggested, “If William kept hearing of Fulk’s loyalty he may suspect there was a small chance he might interfere, and so locked him up to ensure that could not happen. Believe it or not, but William does not like unnecessary killing and he prizes traits like fidelity.”
“And so once again we end up back with the elusive Saint William!” growled Eleanor. “I need to talk to my father; I never thought I would say that, and I do not like it one bit, but it is sadly true. There are so many things only he can say; I need his account of that council the three of them held on the night of John’s return I have Trempwick’s version; I need Hugh’s and my father’s too.”
Fulk patted her on the back. “At least you can’t complain you’re bored now,” he said encouragingly. “I know how much you like to keep busy, and you do love a challenge.”
Eleanor smiled and said warmly, “I did miss you, you know.”
“I should damned well hope so! When I think of all I survived at your hands … I still have nightmares.” Fulk sniffled and rubbed at his eye. “Casual cruelty, insults, belittlement, torture, attempts on my life, out and out attacks-”
“And you enjoyed every minute of it, you lying wretch.”
“Certainly not!”
“Sorry, every second of it.”
“You are impossible!”
Eleanor beamed. “That is so sweet of you.”
“And here I am again, lured back into a vicious life of gooseberry inflicted torment,” lamented Fulk. “I should have run away to live with my mother while I had the chance.”
Eleanor kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Fulk smoothed her forehead with a thumb. “If I left you sitting about frowning and fretting all the time you’d soon end up with wrinkles, oh beloved mine. I’d rather you got laughter lines.”
“I shall remember that next time you make a prat out of yourself and will laugh heartily.” Reverting to seriousness Eleanor broached the reason she had called this pathetic little council of war. “I have three main choices from here; I can go to Hugh now and tell him what I know, but I have no evidence so it may look like the last ditch attempt of a troublemaker to avoid her unwanted marriage. I can delay a few more days, two at most, and try to find out more before making my decision. I can marry Trempwick anyway and do what I can to wring some gain from the situation.”
Eleanor paused to take stock once again. “The last is not tolerable; I can just about forgive him for killing Stephan when left no other choice by my father. But he is probably the reason John died, plans to remove Hugh, possibly set Adele up to remove her and her children from the competition, tried to kill Fulk, and planned to exploit me. I do not want to be queen, and I do not want people fighting and dying in my name, even less so when they are fighting to remove my brother from a throne I do not want. Since it appears Constance, and therefore surely also Hugh, is distrustful and suspicious of foul play my brother may be more willing to listen to me. I doubt he has any evidence himself, so he may be a little more appreciative of my own problems there. I do not love my family, but they suit my purposes far more than Trempwick does, and I think I hate them less. I know Trempwick will never allow me to have the one thing I want, so I gain nothing by helping him and lose everything. Problem; I cannot bring in any of my facts which relate to a certain rather unfortunate love affair involving a princess and a rust heap. It would cause entirely too much trouble, and possibly ruin everything. I can carefully twist most facts to remove anything … unseemly, but it does make my case even weaker.”
“So you’re not going to run?” asked Fulk. “And it’s a gooseberry and a noble, gentle knight.”
“No,” said Eleanor flatly. “I will not run; I will stand and fight. If I lose then at least he will have to be honest; no more honey coated poison and endless lies, and I shall wring whatever advantages I can from the situation. I am sorry for deceiving you, but it was a safe excuse. If we are discovered with this excuse he will be furious, but he cannot tell my father about us unless he wishes to lose me entirely. I would make it very clear, once again, that if he harmed you I would never forgive him, and he could not harm me too much or again he would turn me against him. That is not to say we would escape lightly, but I could shape the situation into something we could both survive well enough. In the end that is what it all comes back to; turning this mess to my best advantage, and doing what I can to look after those few I care for. Well, it may prevent a war as well, or then again it may cause one where they may not have been one; I cannot see the future. And perhaps …” Eleanor trailed off, afraid to put this last, fragile, deep wish into words, terrified of how hopeless it would sound when isolated. Her grip on Fulk’s hand tightened. “Perhaps if I do well enough, and if you distinguish yourself … perhaps somehow we might … if I save Hugh’s throne he will owe me … somehow we might come out of this married and safe. They will owe me, a lot. You too; without you I would never have seen any of this. It is a distant, forlorn, unlikely, probably impossible hope, but some hope is better than none.”
The prospect of a wedding had Anne swinging her feet happily again. “I shall do whatever I can to help that.” The feet slowly swung to a halt. “But as you say it is most likely impossible. What did you mean, you would not have seen this if not for Fulk?”
“He must have been planning this since shortly after he took me from the palace, perhaps before.” Eleanor let her head drop back onto the solid curve of Fulk’s shoulder and wound her arm back around him. “You he did not expect; you threw his plans slightly, loosened his hold over me. In you I have someone else to rely on and trust, someone else to be kind to me, someone else to fend off those who attack me in some way. I have something I want that does not come from him, something I would risk myself for. If not for you I would have accepted his suit, been grateful for it almost. Until you appeared he must have thought it inevitable I would accept him; who else was there? In my closed little world he would have been the only one showing me the least bit of kindness, and as soon as he could pursue me fairly he did so. Actually, looking back I suspect he had been dropping hints he might love me for a while but I did not see them; I simply did not think it possible. As things were he could do his best and it would not work; I only had eyes for you, and you were doing everything Trempwick was, only completely honestly, and aided by real, mutual attraction and love which, I freely admit, produces far more enjoyable results. Trying to remove you was his mistake.”
Eleanor paused, thinking of what she had just done. The feeling of being lost, overwhelmed and unsure swept back along with the burning anger mingled with sorrow that came from Trempwick’s betrayal. “Now you really are all I have; I have thrown the rest away.” Fulk just held her, stroking her back and not bothering with empty words. After a while the tide of emotions receded. “I shall have to talk to Hugh without it looking like I want to, alone. I suppose I shall have to see what I can get out of him before telling him what I can; I only hope he listens. I doubt he will, and he is so …” her nose wrinkled, “thick. Quite where that comes from I do not know; he was smart enough as a boy.”
Anne crossed her legs and paid very careful attention to rearranging the folds of her skirts, speaking in a measured voice as she worked, “Your brother is a very frightened man. I know; I recognise myself in him. He clings to duty because it is a comfort, a guide and a shelter to hide behind when you are lost and alone, trying to do something that you know you cannot, something you are not suited to. All you need to is let go, let yourself be buried and absorbed into duty and it tells you what to do, how, when. You do not need to think overly much, or to worry beyond getting your clearly defined duty right.” Anne looked at Eleanor with a kind of simmering envy. “We are not all strong like you.”
“Stubborn,” corrected Eleanor. “And probably stupid too.”
Anne’s brows locked together and she said with exaggerated, angry precision, “No, strong. You went to your unwanted betrothal a mess and said your unwanted vows before a sizable audience and you were still yourself – you hesitated right before everyone and you refused to look weak. I did mine to perfection, exactly as required because I drowned myself in my duty. My vows were not really what I wanted, though I admit they have turned out well. Your brother does exactly what is expected of a man, a knight, and the heir to the throne. Hugh-the-person is hidden safely behind it all, terrified. I did not want to marry a stranger decades older than me and become queen of an empire while the whole of Christendom watched but I had to; my fate was decided by older, wiser heads and I lacked the courage to even ask for some consideration of my age. Duty said I had to come to England and get married, duty said I should accept the absurdity and horror of being treated as if I was a few years older, duty told me when and how to accept gifts and well wishes, duty told me how to act throughout it all, so I clung to it, worked to the exact letter of it, and when I found myself stood at the church door with my hand linked to William’s and a huge crowd watching duty supplied the words and actions when all I wanted to do was cry and run away to hide. Hugh is the same; the man wants to run but he holds on to duty because it is all he can see which will get him through whatever he is afraid of.”
