Page 21 of Dancing On Air

“What?” she asked in surprise. How did he know this? Then again, Connor always seemed to know what she was thinking long before she ever told him. When they were just children, he could tell when she was keeping something from him. He even guessed the answer the time when she had borrowed his favorite eating knife without asking, trying to stab and catch a fish in the lake. She lost it in the water, and they never found it.

Eleanor smiled inwardly, realizing that some things never changed. “Nay, of course not. I wasn’t waiting for you,” she told him, trying to sound believable. “I just didn’t want to get married, that’s all.” She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, trying to ignore the fact she’d just lied to the only man she’d ever loved. He had to know she wanted marriage and many children more than anything, since they’d talked about it often when they were betrothed.

“Good,” he answered, thankfully not calling her on her lie. “Because, we both know that we can never be together. Not anymore, since my father took the position of hangman to save his life.”

“Yes,” she said, barely able to breathe now. All she’d been able to think about every day for the past five years is getting Connor back. But he was right. It was never going to happen.

“Don’t waste your life, Eleanor. Marry a nobleman right away and make something of yourself. You have so much to offer.”

“I feel that I am making something of myself,” she retorted. “I have helped dozens of orphaned children who had no one, and now they have loving families, thanks to me. As a matter of fact, here is my first stop. If you’ll excuse me, I need to take some apples to the peasants who just took in two of my orphan boys today.”

“Your boys,” he repeated softly, telling her that he knew her secret. She thought of these children as her own, since she hadn’t bore any from her own womb.

Eleanor stopped the wagon and hopped off. By the time she got to the back of it, Connor was already there, pulling out a bushel of apples with his two strong arms.

“Are all three bushels going to the peasants?” he asked.

“Nay,” she answered, about to say two of them, but she changed her mind at the last minute. “Just one. And I can carry it, but thank you.” She held out her arms and waited.

“Nay. I’ll carry it. I’ll leave my hood up and they won’t know who I am,” he told her. “Unless you’d rather I hide if you’re afraid they might find out.”

“Nay, I’m not afraid. Thank you for carrying the bushel for me.”

Connor followed Eleanor,carrying the basket of apples to the cottage, where two young boys were playing with a dog outside. A plump woman was sprinkling feed for a dozen chickens and looked up as they approached.

“Lady Eleanor, we just left you at the abbey,” said the woman with a smile. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“Lady Eleanor,” shouted the younger boy, running over to her for a hug. The little white dog barked and followed, with the older boy right behind.

“Hamlin, I know how much you were hoping for an apple pie, so I brought a bushel of apples so your new mother can bake one. Edna, I hope these will do.”

“Oh, apples, how wonderful!” said the woman. “Thank you. You can put them down over there.” Her gaze traveled over to Connor as he walked away, and she leaned in and spoke softly to Eleanor, but Connor could still hear her. “Who is this man helping you? He doesn’t look like a monk.” Connor glanced back over his shoulder, seeing the woman craning her neck, trying to peek at Connor’s face under his hood.

He started to regret his decision to carry the apples when the peasant woman started asking questions that he didn’t want answered.

“He’s my escort,” was all Eleanor said, and it seemed to satisfy the woman, for now, anyway.

“Just leave the bushel there by the front door and I’ll have Albert carry them inside,” Edna called out to him.

“I’m strong. I can carry them.” The older boy ran over and grabbed the bushel, and at the same time looked up at Connor’s face. From his short height, he could see him. The boy’s eyes opened wide and he balked.

“It’s all right,” Connor told him in a soft voice. “I am here to protect Lady Eleanor.”

“But you’re a—”

“Shhhh,” said Connor, his eyes flashing over to the others who were talking and not paying attention to him, thank goodness. “Take the apples for your new mother.”

“Yes, sir,” said the boy, as if he were afraid to say no.

“What’s your name?” asked Connor.

“I’m Bertram.”

“Thank you, Bertram. I can see why Lady Eleanor is so fond of you.”

“I’ll take that,” said a man, emerging from the house and walking toward them.

“Don’t say anything. Please,” whispered Connor.