Eleanor’s pulse races! ‘Tis Flag Day, and the flags on the battlements of Blystoke Castle are fluttering in the breeze, awaiting the arrival of Lord Hugh — yes, the one whose arrogance incenses her, but whose blue eyes pierce to the very core of her being. If she were to fly a flag just for Hugh, (she blushes to think!), it would be argent in colour, charged with a red heart in the center, pierced through with an arrow of or. Pierced, indeed, Eleanor sighs.
Then, her spirits flag, as she worries about the dilemma in which she finds herself — the wretched William lusting after her, devilishly handsome Lord Hugh who wishes to marry her sister, and the infernal poaching in the forests that has jeopardized her reputation and has goaded Lord Hugh to accuse her of mismanagement and naivete and worse. What to do?
One thing she will not do, Eleanor vows, is to raise the argent flag of surrender. She will unflaggingly pursue the criminals and extricate herself and her sister from the mesh of lies and intrigues that threaten them. Being a “mere woman,” as some have so rudely said to her (we’re remembering Lord Hugh, here), will definitely not prove to be an obstacle. Into the fray, she tells herself, with flags flying!