Though being quite well-traveled and well-read for 1272, Lady Eleanor has no idea that far-off Hawaii even exists, and if she did, oh, my, gentle readers, she would daydream about being in that tropical paradise with Lord Hugh, dreaming that he’s holding her gently in his arms as the trade winds caress them….But (cold hard reality!), that’s not likely to happen, since Lord Hugh has made his antipathy toward her very obvious, not to mention his condescending treatment of her, and it’s all over the poaching conspiracy in their adjoining forests and his conviction that women are all brainless ninnies. Little does Lord Hugh know that he is about to get to know the real Lady Eleanor, whose intelligence and wit will vanquish him, leaving him bereft until he can make her his. Oh, so perhaps Eleanor can dream of those tropical sunsets after all, and, the music, oh, the music! ‘Tis not like that music the jongleurs and musicians play in her Great Hall. Nay, not at all. Should you like to sample some, click on the last link below!
If you enjoy real, traditional, lyrical Hawaiian music, and if you’re ever on Oahu, don’t miss Sunday and Tuesday evenings at the O’Lelo Bar (families and kids welcome — outdoor venue w/great pupus, etc.) at the Aulani with island treasure Jerry Santos: http://www.olomanamusic.com/index.html and here’s a favorite song known all over the islands: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FgraeK4M9a0
Of course, Eleanor has no idea that Daniel Boone (his national day is June 7) ever existed, because he lived in the 19th century, and she lives in the 13th, but, were she to see this painting and to read about him, she would mark a resemblance between him and *sighs* Lord Hugh. They are both brave, intrepid, scornful of risks, and enjoy pursuit of game. Eleanor wishes Hugh would pursue her, naturally, but, so far, he treats her with condescension–when he’s not lambasting her about the management of her forests. Ah, well, Eleanor must needs be patient, just as Daniel Boone was, and she may win her quarry. Perhaps, just perhaps, Lord Hugh will decide he cannot resist her charms any longer. What do you think, dear readers? Will Lord Hugh change the venue for his hunting from his forest chase to Lady Eleanor’s castle?
Ah, doesn’t this make you wonder what Eleanor is writing with her quill pen on the parchment in front of her? She loathes the despicable William, thus his treatment as a cur on the pages of TORCH IN THE FOREST. On the other hand, she holds tightly the secret of her powerful attraction to that arrogant Lord Hugh, and she holds it so tightly she can hardly bear to admit to herself. How shall Lord Hugh be portrayed on those pages…? Those intense blue eyes, that chiseled chin, the arrogant tone…? What think you, dear readers? Many thanks to Eleanor’s writing companion, Meradeth Houston, for this gem of a graphic!
What say you, dear readers?
Verona, Italia, the home of those star-crossed lovers, Romeo and Juliet!
Oh, heavens, forfend! Eleanor has never tasted such delight! Tomorrow being Rocky Road Ice Cream Day, she has asked the cooks to concoct as close a treat as they can to this fabled dessert, though ’tis known in the British Isles as “cream ice,” and was brought to Europe by the famed explorer Marco Polo. Of course, marshmallows were unknown in Eleanor’s England, but, she is very partial to the chocolate and almonds in the cream ice. She wonders if Lord Hugh would enjoy Rocky Road. Frowning, she thinks of Lord Hugh. Ah, but she has traveled her very own rocky road with Lord Hugh. Imagine the brass — he returned from the Crusades and immediately accused her of allowing poachers to run rampant in her forest, crossing into his lands and forest to poach at will. Where was he all those years? Not managing his own forests, ’tis for certain, and most likely chasing skirts as well as Moors. Eleanor has had her huntsmen and Chief Forester on the watch, trying to catch the miscreants for months, but, does Lord Hugh take account of that? She knows he casts aspersions on her abilities, for he has accused her to her face of being a worthless ninny! Rocky road, indeed. Hmmmm. Eleanor wonders and a smile twitches the corners of her mouth. How handsome would that arrogant Lord Hugh look with a dish of ice cream mashed across that stern visage? She giggles. Then, Lord Hugh would have his very own rocky road!
Eleanor is getting ready for St. Bernard of Monjoux’s day tomorrow. Of course she has heard of this generous and intrepid man, who spent forty years in the Alps, caring for travelers. Naturally, Eleanor doesn’t know that St. Bernard dogs even exist, since the breed was not even known of, back in 1272. Perusing her Book of Hours, she has noted that St. Bernard was venerated for his mission to convert pagans living in the mountains to the Christian faith. Hmmmm, Eleanor muses. How she would love to convert Lord Hugh from an arrogant, supercilious (oh, but breathtakingly handsome!) lord to a kinder, gentler man. How he does make her pulse race, especially when they argue about whose fault it is that the poaching continues in their adjoining forests. Her pulse races because she is angry with him, but that is not the only reason it does so. She frowns. How did she ever find herself in this conundrum — attracted to a man whose blue-eyed gaze can destroy her composure, making her cheeks warm and forcing every cogent thought to flee from her brain. Conversion….how can she work on Lord Hugh. Do you have any help for Eleanor, gentle readers?
Eleanor doesn’t know about Norwegian Independence Day, of course, because in her day the Norsemen, (oh those Vikings!), were feared, and rightly so. They had roamed and conquered at will for the last eight hundred years, even bringing law and order to her British Isles in 1066, in the person of William the Conqueror, he of Normandy. That is one reason the British no longer painted themselves blue with woad and wore rabbit skins and now had a legal system that worked. She had no idea the Norwegians would eventually become part of the kingdoms of Sweden and Denmark and finally wrest their independence from their rulers. She has an affinity for those Vikings, however, because she can be fierce in her own way, confronting that cur, Lord William of Litchfield, as well as hunting down the poachers in her forests. Where she finds she cannot be fierce is in her thoughts of Lord Hugh, that handsome, arrogant neighboring lord. Well, yes, she puts up a good fight when she must meet with him, and he thinks her an impertinent young woman hardly worth his time, but, in secret, to her embarrassment, she discovers she harbors sweet longings for him, longings that make her blush. Where are those fierce Viking feelings? Alas, they say love conquers all, even those who wish they were more like Vikings. Why can she not conquer her own feelings?
Eleanor is quite thrilled that National Limerick Day is coming up. In anticipation, she has been taking quill to parchment and composing a few of her own.
There once was a Lord named Hugh
Who consistently caused a “to-do.”
Whether he grinned at the wenches
Or fought in the trenches,
He always made trouble anew.
There once was a Lord named Hugh
Over whom women would blush and coo.
He was sure he deserved all
But he was prime for a fall;
Since Eleanor knew he was due.
There once was a Lord named Hugh
Who thought every woman a shrew.
He disdainfully thought
Each could be bought,
Till Eleanor bested him anew.
Putting down her quill pen, Eleanor gazes out the window of her solar at her forest. A smile twitches at the corners of her mouth. Wouldn’t she love to have a messenger deliver those to Lord Hugh? He would be beside himself. Ah, but, then he might guess her feelings about him, no? She sighed. Eleanor glances at the fire in the hearth. She could burn the limericks…or send them. Eleanor’s cheeks warm as she thinks of Lord Hugh. What should she do, dear readers?