Yes, even in 1272, Eleanor is quite aware of April Fool’s Day, ‘t being a longstanding tradition. When in the village on this date, she will often see one peasant send another on a “fool’s errand,” much to the merriment of all. Sadly, Eleanor often feels like a fool herself, even ‘pon days that are not April 1, thanks to that arrogant Lord Hugh, he of the intense, blue-eyed gaze, who attempts to stare her down when they discuss the poaching crimes in their adjoining forests. She will not stand for that sort of treatment, and thus he thinks her insolent and a ninny, when she makes her case. The other reason she feels a fool is that her heart flutters a bit when Lord Hugh crosses the drawbridge to her castle, ready to meet again about catching the poachers. How could she have so many conflicting feelings at once? Is she a fool, indeed?
Ah, the luck of the Irish, Eleanor thinks wistfully. Perhaps someday, with any luck, that handsome, blue-eyed Lord Hugh will realize that she, and not her sister Mary, is the one for him. Such distress she endures! Not only is Lord Hugh determined to marry her younger sister, but, he continues to treat Eleanor with arrogance and condescension, so sure is he that she is a ninny –especially about the poaching in the forest and managing her lands — and not to be trusted. Little does he know! Luck — when will it arrive at the gates of her castle? Will it arrive in the person of Lord Hugh, whose intense gaze rakes her soul and drives all coherent thought out of her head? Is that the luck she should wish for? Such a dilemma….
Eleanor greets Valentine’s Day with a mixture of dread and longing….After all, that handsome Lord Hugh is never far from her thoughts, but oh, so far from her embrace! But, how can she wish to be with him, be held by him, when, at the same time, she dreads his presence? ‘Tis a constant frustration, to be sure, because when she sees him and his intense, blue-eyed gaze, her heart races, and yet, once he speaks in that condescending tone, chiding her for allowing poachers to ravage their forests, fury bubbles up in her, and she has to stifle the sarcastic words she would be so happy to say, but knows she should not. After all, he threatens to arrange to have her forests remanded to her liege lord, the disgusting Lord Litchfield, so to anger him further would not be politic. Ah, but Valentine’s Day….if only the forest problem could be resolved, then, then, perhaps she could receive her Valentine’s Day hope. What think you, dear reader?
Eleanor does think this small creature quite adorable, even thought ’tis not the hedgehog she is familiar with here in medieval England, but she does know the legend and custom behind it and this day, which is to celebrate Candlemas Day. “If Candlemas be fair and bright, Come, Winter, have another flight. If Candlemas brings clouds and rain, Go Winter, and come not again.” So, she is attentive to the weather outside the castle today. She will light candles and wait for the day to unfold. Of course, if Lord Hugh were to arrive, the weather would be fair and bright — but, no, she remonstrates herself–he would bring clouds and rain. Frowning, she remembers his condescending manner as he chided her for allowing poachers into her forest. As if she would do so! Heavens forfend! His arrogant manner would indeed bring clouds and rain and thunderstorms. But….those blue eyes of his….perhaps a little bit of sun….dare she even imagine?
Eleanor is particularly thrilled this New Year! By looking at the above image, can you imagine why? Indeed, her face feels warm, her heart is beating quickly, and her hands are clasped in hope — perhaps, perhaps, this will be the year she can find true love! Of course, the very, very last person she would want to fall in love with is that arrogant, supercilious Lord Hugh, he of the piercing blue-eyed gaze that shakes her to her core. Eleanor frowns and unclasps her hands, doubling them into fists. Nay! she tells herself. She shall not quail under that gaze, but meet it headlong and vanquish him. How can he have the nerve to suggest that mismanagement of her forests is to blame for the rampant poaching both of their forests are experiencing? Most certainly not! Someone dastardly and connniving is at the bottom of this poaching, and she is determined to discover who it is. In the meantime, she does wish that being in the same room as Lord Hugh did not send her heart racing. It must be caused by anger, right, dear reader?
Eleanor loves the Christmas season, seated in front of the huge fireplace in the Great Hall, fire blazing away, not dissimilar to the fire raging in her heart for that handsome, but arrogant, Lord Hugh. Would that she could extinguish that personal fire as easily as the servants would extinguish the blaze in the fireplace….In the meantime, she ponders what moves to make in her quest to find the dastardly poachers in her forest before Lord Hugh forces her to give up her lands to her liege lord, the weasel-like Lord Litchfield. She shudders, despite the heat from the fire — or is it the heat in her heart?
Ah, yes, Eleanor is no Cinderella, she who owns her lands and chase and castle as a fief from the wretched Lord of Litchfield, but, she has the wherewithal and spunk to defeat most anyone. Most of all, she would like to defeat Lord Hugh, who, at the moment is aggravating her to the umpteenth degree by being his usual arrogant self, disparaging her ability to manage her lands and forest, and, heavens forfend, impugning her honor by accusing her of being so inept that the poachers have almost overridden both their chases. But, all that said, Lady Eleanor would love to write something that would sting Lord Hugh into recognition of her abilities and her honor and her integrity. But, for that, she may need to be published….and even then, if he were to read it, would he be able to infer her longing for him, despite her rancor? So many mixed emotions, dear reader. What think you?
Of course, Eleanor would love to be here, if she knew of it, most especially holding Lord Hugh’s hand, perhaps even sipping a Mai-Tai. She, however, is in her castle in England, gazing out her window at her forest, wishing, wishing, wishing she could catch a glimpse of Lord Hugh, he of the intense blue-eyed gaze. She sighs and looks at the goblet of wine in her hand. No Mai-Tais for her!
‘Tis a shocking fact, but true: Eleanor has never been to the coast! Of course, she knows of the sea, and, in fact, her horrid late husband met his fate on the high seas, on his way to fight in the crusade, but, she has seen only paintings of it. If she visited the shore, ‘t would take her a three days’ journey, because her castle and lands lie in the center of fair England. Indeed, why would she want to leave her forest chase for a glimpse of ocean? Who knows what havoc any miscreants might wreak in her absence– more poaching for that arrogant but ever-so-handsome Lord Hugh to castigate her about? Eleanor holds back a sigh…ah, Lord Hugh. Now, if he were to accompany her on a visit to the coast, ‘twould be an entirely different matter….but, she would have eyes only for him, not any cliffs of Dover or English Channel. So, all she can do is gaze out her window at her green forest, and only imagine it to be the vast blue and grey wave-tossed ocean–and dream of Lord Hugh…