Heavens, forfend! Eleanor is quite puzzled by the talk about the castle and in the village. What in heaven’s name is a “credit card”? How can that cause people such problems? She knows full well about credit, for her marshal collects the rents from the peasants on her land and sometimes extends them credit when they cannot pay. But, a card of credit? A card of wool she knows, or a playing card, too, but not a credit card. In any event, Eleanor stares out the window, glad to know she does not have to worry about credit of any kind. No. Wait. She frowns. Yes, she does. Lord Hugh does not credit her with even a smattering of sense. Now there’s a credit problem for her. How can she solve it?