William stood before his looking glass as his groom helped him into his clothing for the evening. He smiled at his reflection and thought about how long it would be before he could see Eleanor, his Eleanor, once more. He wanted to hear her say his name again, wanted to feel her hand in his own, wanted simply to warm himself in the rays of sunshine which were her smile. Once ready, he began to make his way down to the great hall. Just before reaching the stairwell, he happened upon the Duke of Suffolk, standing in stony silence at an empty wall.
"Your grace?" he asked, seemingly startling him from his reverie.
"Ah, Lord William, ready for the joust tomorrow?" he asked.
"Yes, your grace. I am most looking forward to it. The weather seems as though it will be fair."
"Hmm. It does indeed."
"Pardon me, your grace, but are you quite well?"
"Yes, of course. Sorry. I've received a letter from court and it has distracted me from the enjoyable time I've been having here."
"Is everything well with his majesty and the Queen?"
"No. It would appear not."
William waited in silence for the Duke to elaborate further.
"The King has charged Cardinal Wolsley to look into the matter of whether or not his marriage to Queen Katharine is valid and legal."
"On what grounds?"
"The King is adamant that her majesty is unable to produce a male heir because of the affinity between her and the King," he said, sighing heavily.
"But I thought all of these matters were resolved before they were married."
"They were but his majesty is desperate to put aside the Queen so he is free to marry the Lady Anne Boleyn."
The two men looked at each other, neither daring to say what they were both thinking which was that the King was a man of many moods who was unable to stay faithful to any woman for any length of time. To add insult to injury, Queen Katharine was not only a faithful and devoted wife but she was also beloved by the people for her piety, her grace, and her kind and gentle spirit.
"Are you called back to court, then?"
"No, fortunately. At least not yet."
"Do you think you will be?"
"At some point, yes," he said, sighing deeply.
The ringing of a bell indicated that dinner was set to begin and they walked down the stairs and into the great hall. Once inside, William went immediately to Eleanor's side. She was wearing green this evening, another color that highlighted her eyes and her beautiful hair and skin.
"Were you with the Duke?" she whispered to him as they sat to dinner.
"Yes, why?"
"I think he is interested in Jane."
"Why ever would you think that?"
"Do you see the way he looks at her?"
William turned his attention to the dais where his sister sat next to their father, the Duke to his right. He watched as the Duke drank and spoke with his father and with the Earl seated to his right. But every so often he would catch the Duke glance in Jane's direction, a small smile playing across his lips. And, every few moments, Jane would return the glance with a smile of her own.
"I think you may be correct in your assessment, my lady," he said.
They shared a knowing smile and returned to dinner.
After the meal, the music began and William reached for her hand, leading her out to the floor. He enjoyed watching her smile and dance, enjoyed the way she moved with a newfound confidence and joy. Each time their hands would touch as they moved from partner to partner, he would wrap his pointer about hers for just a moment longer than necessary, lingering longer than needed, saying everything he could not with just the lightest of touches.
The song and dance came to an end and as she clapped for the musicians, she felt the light press of William's palm upon her own. She turned to him and his eyes, those beautiful eyes of grey, suggested a path from their present station out into the courtyard. She followed behind him until they were alone outside. It was chilly and she wondered why he had brought her here. Taking her hand once more, he led her down a narrow pathway and for a second she felt a brief flicker of fear. Where was he taking her? Eventually he stopped, reaching a small stone bench, where he led her and took her trembling fingers into his own.
"Lad…Eleanor. My dearest Eleanor," he said, rubbing his palm over her fingers.
"Yes, my lord?"
"Say my name, Eleanor," he asked, voice low.
"William," she said and he shivered. It was his favorite sound in the world. His name on her lips.
"I have something for you," he said, reaching into the pocket of his coat, extracting a small silk pouch and handing it to her.
"What is it my…William?"
"Open it," he encouraged.
She pulled back the ties which held it shut and opened the pouch, turning it upside down and holding it over her hand. A small item fell into her palm and she unfurled her fingers to look at what lay there. It was a ring of silver with roses etched around the band.
"It's a poesy ring," she said with a smile.
"Look inside," he encouraged.
The inside of the band was engraved with the words " Omnia Vincit Amor."
"Love conquers all," she translated.
"Love conquers all," he said, voice soft and tender.
It was an especially meaningful message for two people who had so desperately longed to be together but lived in a world that seemingly conspired to keep them apart. And now, at long last, they were finally able to be together.
"William," she breathed, as he slipped the band onto her trembling hand.
He brought his hand to her face, his thumb running softly over the soft skin of her cheek. Her eyes flickered down and then back up to his once more. He was looking at her, searching for any signs of fear or resistance and seeing none, he brought his mouth to hers.
It was soft and gentle, a brush of his full lips against hers, a fleeting sensation of pressure and want and desire. He would have pulled back then but she moaned softly and his control snapped just a little, causing him to kiss her with a little more force than he had intended. When her mouth parted to the feel of his tongue running along her lower lip, he moaned and pulled back from her, gathering her into his arms and placing kisses on the top of her head.
"Ellie, my dear, sweet, Ellie," he murmured into her hair, holding her to his chest.
It was her first kiss; the first time a man had held and caressed her and yet, despite her ignorance of such things, she knew she wanted more, knew she wanted to kiss him again and again and again until her lips were raw and chapped from his kisses. And as he continued to hold her, stroking her hair and whispering her name, she realized how safe and loved, adored and worshipped she felt, and for the first time in many years, that all she had ever wanted was finally hers.

She wandered about the Hall, attempting to look interested in the dancing and music, stopping occasionally to speak with a guest or to whisper some message to the servants. The truth was that she was in search of the Duke of Suffolk who seemed to have disappeared from the festivities. She could not very well ask where he was without seeming overly familiar or too interested but after their walk in the gardens earlier, she longed to see him once more, to talk further, to simply be in his presence. As she turned a corner, she caught sight of her father along with several other guests including Eleanor's mother and some other ladies laughing as they gathered around a table. Entering the room, she realized that the Duke of Suffolk was in the large, high backed chair that faced the fireplace and across from him sat Eleanor's father, the Earl of Wiltshire. They were engaged in a game of cards and it was clear from the cheers and rounds of applause that the Duke was winning, and handily at that.
The Earl finally called an end to the game, claiming he could no longer afford to compete with the Duke. Suffolk looked around the room, sizing up potential competitors. He'd already bested the Marquis as well as the Lady Wiltshire and several other nobles currently standing around the table. His eyes finally fell upon the Lady Jane who had appeared and now stood quietly in the corner of the room, watching the scene before her.
"Lady Jane, do you play?" he asked.
"What game, your grace?"
"Piquet," he answered.
"Not for quite some time, your grace," she responded.
"Will you allow me to show you once more?"
She nodded and the crowd gave way to permit her passage. Seated before him, she noticed her father behind the Duke's chair and he gave her a wink.
"There are four suits; spades, clubs, diamonds, and hearts," he explained as he laid each one out upon the table, "Then there are four face cards; aces, kings, queens, and knaves."
"A game of knaves and hearts, your grace?" she asked and when he looked up at her, she was straight faced but her eyes twinkled merrily.
"Yes, my lady, a game of knaves and hearts," he responded, a small smile playing at his lips.
Beautiful, kind, and quick witted, he thought to himself as he explained the rest of the game to her.
They began to play and she won the first hand easily and he seemed a bit taken aback at how quickly she had picked up the game. She bested him again and again, hand after hand, and by the time the game reached its conclusion, she had won nearly all of his earlier winnings. He was baffled by this turn of events. He hardly ever lost and when he did, it was usually to the King. Now, he seemed to have lost to the beautiful young woman before him.
"You play quite well for a beginner, my lady," he said with a grin as he pushed the rest of his winnings towards her.
"Your grace, I never said that I was a beginner, merely that it had been some time since I had last played," she remarked.
His eyes flashed up, looking into hers and she smiled. He realized then that he had not only lost but that he'd been tricked by the beauty sitting before him.
"Well played, Lady Jane," he said, returning her grin with one of his own.
She stood, gathering her winnings into the small purse he'd slid across the table to her.
"Thank you, your grace," she said, curtseying to him before sweeping out of the room.
Later that evening when he returned to his chambers there was a note upon the table and beside it was the small bag of coins she'd taken earlier.
He read the note, a short missive written in particularly lovely script,
Your grace,
I believe this belongs to you. I'm sorry to have swindled it out of you earlier.
Please accept its return with my humblest apologies.
Lady Jane Howard

He smiled, holding the letter to his heart. He'd see to it that her rightful winnings made their way back to her.

The next morning the house was ablaze with activity. It was the day of the tournament and in addition to sword fights and general merriment, there would also be a joust. The Duke of Suffolk was rumored to be the man to best at the joust and odds were on William to win at sword fighting. Eleanor had stayed the night with Jane so that rather than having to return home she would be able to join in the morning's activities.
They'd shared Jane's bed, laughing like young girls and sharing whispered confidences.
Eleanor had shown her the ring William had given to her earlier in the garden and Jane could practically feel the excitement and joy which seemed to emanate from her pores.
"May I tell you something, Jane?" she asked, her voice a hushed whisper.
"Anything, Nora."
"He…your brother…that is, William…well, he kissed me," she stumbled through her explanation.
Despite how strange it was to think of her brother kissing Nora, she was also intrigued to know more.
"And?"
"And I want him to do it again and again. And soon," she said with a sigh, pressing her hand to her lips as if the mere touch were enough to hold William's caresses there.
While Nora lay there, caught in her own thoughts, Jane wondered what it would be like to be kissed by a man. She'd never known the touch of a man, never felt lips pressed to her own, did not know what she would say or do in such a situation. And yet, she burned for the Duke to take her into his strong arms and kiss her. She found herself pressing the back of her hand where he'd kissed it the other day to her own mouth whenever she was alone.
"Jane?"
"Yes, Nora?"
"What do you think of the Duke of Suffolk? And answer truthfully because I know you failed to be wholly honest with me the other day."
"I find him to be…interesting."
"And?"
"And charming and engaging and kind and very, very handsome," she said in a rush of words that she could no longer hold back.
"So you do admire him?" Nora asked, a small smile on her lips.
"Yes, Nora. I admire him very much despite all the things we have heard. He seems to be quite the opposite of what has been described. I find myself unable to stop thinking of him," she admitted finally and it was as though a millstone had been lifted from her neck.
"Dearest Jane," Nora said, grasping her friend's hand in her own, "Perhaps we can be married together."
Jane laughed at this, "That's putting the horse before the cart, Nora. I only said I admire him. I have no idea how he feels or if he feels anything at all."
"He does, Jane. He has to. I just know it."

Tents and benches had been set up beside the jousting field and a large spread of food was being set up by the servants. There were tents for the men to attire themselves and tents for the ladies to use should they require a reprieve from the sun or other elements. Jane had seen her father and brother earlier in the morning and Anne, Lucy, Thomas, and Henry had all been given permission to attend and they were presently settled in the box reserved especially for the Marquis and his family. Jane had gone to check on the arrangements for the luncheon that was to follow and as she made her way back she heard someone call her name. Turning, she came face to face with the Duke of Suffolk, attired in his sheet metal and armor.
"My lady," he greeted, bowing slightly as she curtsied to him.
"Would you do me the honor of allowing me to wear your favors?" he asked and she was taken aback. At tournaments such as this, men traditionally asked for the favors of women whom they knew and with whom they had a relationship. She had seen Eleanor give a handkerchief to William earlier, known it was embroidered with her initials, and she had watched as William placed it under his shirt, close to his heart.
"I…I don't know that I have anything, your grace, I'm sorry," she replied.
"But you do," he said and she raised her eyes to his, "May I?" he asked.
She nodded and he raised a hand to her hair. She'd had a ribbon tied to the end of her plaited hair that morning. It was pale pink, matching the color of the gown she wore, and she felt her hair move softly as he undid the knot from the bottom of her plait. As he drew the ribbon forward, his fingers inadvertently brushed against the side of her neck and she released a soft, unintentional sigh.
Hearing her reaction, he brushed his fingertips over the side of her neck once more, eliciting the same reaction.
"Your grace, I…" she began before the trumpeter sounded his call.
Taking the ribbon he took it and tucked it inside his shirt before turning and bowing to her once more.
He left her standing there, breathless and dizzy at the feel of his fingers on her skin. She didn't think she could walk, wasn't sure if she'd be able to focus on anything other than the feel of his hands, didn't know if she could handle another moment of waiting for him to do or say something that would make this situation clear. She wandered back to her seat in a daze. Nora took one look at her face and smiled. Clearly something had just taken place between Jane and the Duke.
As the competitors were called to begin, Henry turned to his sister and whispered, "There's the Duke of Suffolk, sister. He is my favorite knight."
Jane smiled at the beaming face of her brother, "Do you want to know a secret? she asked.
He nodded, brown curls bobbing in the sunlight.
"He's my favorite as well," she whispered, their heads bent close together so no one else could hear.
As she pulled back to watch the first tilt, she caught the eyes of the Duke upon her and Henry and she smiled at him, hoping it was a smile of encouragement and support. He nodded, returning the smile before lowering his visor. And when he easily won the tournament, he knew it was because he carried the best charm in the world near to his heart.