A turkey? Eleanor has no idea what this could possibly be. Some of the servants have been whispering about a special holiday of celebrating being thankful for many things, during which they will roast this “turkey,” after they clean it and remove its feathers. It must be some kind of fowl, Eleanor thinks, but why she has not heard of it, she does not know. She is widely-read for this year, 1272, but nowhere in her readings has she read any reference to this strange bird. Another chance remark piqued her curiosity, as well. One of the servants said to another servant, “You are such a turkey — don’t spill the wine on the floor!” It sounded quite pejorative. Was “turkey” a term of denigration? If so, why would anyone want to eat one? As far as negative terms, Eleanor rather likes the word “turkey,” especially the foul implications. It has a sort of bounce and energy to it — and she knows exactly to whom she would apply it: that miserable, lecherous cur, Lord William, her liege lord. He is most definitely a real turkey. As far as being thankful, the one event that would truly make her thankful would be if that handsome Lord Hugh, he of the intense gaze that makes her shiver involuntarily, would take her in his arms…..Aaaah, readers, Eleanor knows full well that Lord Hugh is no turkey.