The Winter Love by April Munday Page A

meditation.
    She did not know how long they knelt there, but after a while Henry groaned and threw himself prostrate on the stone slabs of the church floor. Such grief could know no comfort, so she sat by him until he sighed again and lifted himself up onto his knees. Before he could move further she took him into her arms and held him. He relaxed against her and laid his head on her shoulder. Eventually, he moved her arms from round his body and kissed her hands. “You are a great comfort to me, Eleanor,” he said huskily as he held her hands in his. “These last days you have done so much for me, when I could do nothing.”
    Eleanor didn’t know what to say o r do, but Henry did not seem to expect anything from her. Finally he kissed her forehead and stood and helped her rise.
    “We should return now.” He turned and led the way out of the church leaving Eleanor to follow him and to wonder what it was that he had seen or done that had caused him such bitter grief.
     
    Eleanor had never seen as much food on a table as she saw that night. Somehow Edward must have sent word that he was arriving, for some of the food must have been prepared the day before. He must have sent a messenger overland or by another ship whilst he was waiting for Henry, she concluded. It was just the three of them at the meal and John waited on them. The wine was even finer than she had tasted on the ship and she let each sip roll around her mouth as she took it. Once, she caught Henry looking at her with a slight smile on his face and realised that it probably did not pass as good table manners outside the convent. They only drank watered wine in the convent. She swallowed as she set her beaker down and resolved to improve her manners.
    There were more dishes than she had thought possible. Sometimes she had no idea what she was eating and had to ask Henry. He showed no surprise at her ignorance, but told her quietly and without making her seem foolish. From his attitude she could tell that blackbird was a great delicacy, but it was not to her taste. The goose pleased her more, as did the carp.
    “ One of the best things about living here,” said Edward, “is that all the luxuries from the south and the east come here. I have spices from the east, wines from France, fish from the rivers and from the sea, meat from the forest and from the heath.”
    “Not too much from the forest, I hope,” said Henry, frowning.
    “Only what is permitted and only from those allowed to give it. I have no wish to hang for the sake of eating venison. It was payment for some wine.”
    The venison was delicious. Eleanor had never eaten it before and doubted she would eat it again after Henry had explained that it was very rarely sold and usually eaten only by those who raised the deer. Everything on the table seemed calculated to impress her, but Edward could not have known that she would be here when he had sent the messenger. Henry, then. Edward must believe that it would not be possible for his brother to provide such a feast. It was not her arrival, then, that had caused the quarrel between the brothers; the rivalry was much older. On reflection, though, it seemed to her that the rivalry was all on Edward’s part. Henry did not seem to have the same need to impress his brother. He had not been ashamed of his sickness in front of his brother. With her it had been different and he was only angry that Edward should try to make Eleanor see it as a weakness. Now he was enjoying his brother’s bounty and encouraging her to do the same, even though he had told her that his own house could not offer these comforts. Edward was even dressed more richly than Henry, but Eleanor had no doubt but that she would rather sit and look at Henry than at Edward. The younger brother was good looking and the fabrics and colours he wore must have been chosen to show off his good looks. Henry seemed to have no vanity. His clothes were fine, but looked more comfortable to wear than