Of course, Eleanor knows what taxes are. She must pay a tax to her cringe-inducing liege Lord, William of Litchfield, because she herself cannot go to war for him, but send her knights, instead. Shuddering, she tries to put that cur out of her mind, but, his leering face haunts her. Alas, she seems to be at his mercy, being a mere woman and subject to his whims. Eleanor sets her jaw. She will, however, defeat him despite his wiles and cunning, she vows to herself. How she would love to have Lord Hugh vanquish him! Indeed, how she would love Lord Hugh to vanquish her, as well…but, he has not the foggiest notion of her attraction to him. Why else would he woo her sister? Ah, Eleanor leans her chin in her hand and stares out at the forest. What can she do? ‘Tis a taxing problem, indeed.