Page 1 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
Prologue
Hastings, November 1066
The evening suncast a red glow over the battlefield, highlighting the bodies of the fallen. Sitting on horseback, next to the Duke of Normandy, Alain de Morigeaux looked out across the site of the battle of Hastings, which had taken place barely a month before.
“So many bodies—and my son among them.”
“Nay, Alain,” his companion said. “Our men were buried with honor, including your Henri.”
“What of these Saxons? Will their bodies be left to rot? The field is a sea of blood.”
“’Tis only the sunset, Alain, and it was necessary.”
“As is the conquest of England?”
“Aye, but only because their fool of a king did not give me what he’d promised. He could have prevented this bloodshed.”
“You’ll find opposition here,” Alain said. “They won’t take kindly to yielding their homes and estates to your men.”
“What of you, Alain? I wish to grant you an estate in recognition of Henri’s service.”
“I’ve no desire to leave Morigeaux.”
“Let me bestow it on your daughter.”
“Eloise?”
“It’s time she had a home of her own.”
Alain shifted in his saddle and his horse snorted, dipping its head in protest. “Could you find her an estate with a convent nearby?” he asked.
“You want Eloise to take holy orders?”
Alain shook his head. “I had thought, after her—illness—she might retire to a convent, but the life wouldn’t suit her.”
“Then she must marry.”
Marry?
Alain shook his head as panic rose within him. “No, Your Grace.”
“I can’t grant her an estate and leave her unwed,” his companion said. “These Saxons won’t accept my rule without protest. I’ve had to quell six uprisings already. How would they react to an unmarried woman presiding over one of their estates? She must have a husband.”
“I cannot permit it.”
“I’ll find a husband for her, Alain. One of my barons...”
“Not a Norman!” Alain cried. “Is there a Saxon you could give her to?”
“Have a care, Alain.” The duke’s voice grew quiet, a sign of danger. “Would you make demands of your lord?”
Alan shook his head. “Not a demand. A request—a favor for an old friend.”
The duke fingered the reins of his horse, then his lips curved into a smile.
“So be it,” he said. “I’ll bestow Wildstorm on your daughter.”
“Wildstorm?”
