Page 109 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
“What justice can a woman hope to find?” she cried. “You yourself doubt my word. I kept quiet to protect those I loved. Papa wanted revenge, but I knew Ralph would kill him—and kill him he did, in the end. I knew I would not be believed, and that any attempt to seek justice would result in the ruination of my family. My dear brother knew nothing, and the disgrace would have destroyed his future. The child I bore was—is—innocent. Why should they suffer for my weakness, my inability to fight him?”
“You should have said aught, Eloise.”
“What woman is believed over the man who violates her? Even the best of men would doubt her—would think her a harlot.”
Harald gave a low cry of pain—and guilt.
“I kept quiet to protect those I loved,” she continued. “It was all I had in my power to do.” She glanced at Harald. “But now, I must speak up—to protect the man I love.”
“You understand the penalty for murder is death,” the king said. “If you commit a man’s crime, then you must bear a man’s punishment.”
She lifted her head and met his gaze as bravely as she could.
“I understand,” she said. “Ralph of Aquitaine incited riots among peace-loving Saxons, then betrayed them, and sentenced them to death. He murdered my father. Had I spoken out, I might have prevented it. Too many deaths lie on my conscience.”
“And you’ll accept whatever punishment I deem appropriate?”
“I will.”
“And what of your husband?”
“I beg you to release him, she said. “He’s a loyal subject, who has only ever wanted to further peace between Norman and Saxon. Not once has he spoken out against you. I am proud to call him husband, and feel only shame for what my silence has done to him.”
“And do you love him?”
She placed the sacred box against her heart. “Aye, I do. I confess I did not at first—my love for him was a small seed growing within, nourished by his kindness, bravery and loyalty. As the tree grows from the seed to stand tall and proud so stands my love—unwavering, and unyielding.”
“And what of the child you carry?” a female voice spoke.
The queen leaned forward, her expression stern, and gestured toward Eloise’s swollen belly.
“Don’t you want your child to live?” she asked.
Eloise nodded. “I would ask that you wait until after my confinement to carry out my…” she hesitated, swallowing her fear, “my…”
“Your execution?” Matilda’s mouth curled with distaste as she uttered the word.
“Aye, Your Grace,” Eloise said. “I-I would be willing to be detained as a gesture of faith.”
“Husband.” Matilda beckoned the king to her and spoke in a low voice. At length, he nodded and she smiled.
“Very well,” the king said. “It is my queen’s wish that you be taken to her apartments.”
“And my husband?” Eloise asked.
“He will remain where he is until I decide what must be done with him.”
“But he’s innocent…”
“Say no more!” The king held up his hand. “Another word and I’ll not be so merciful. Take him away.”
“Harald!”
Eloise’s husband turned his head at her plea, and she caught a brief glimpse of his face before they pushed him through the doorway, separating them forever. Bitter tears flowed at not being able to say goodbye, and she let herself be led out of the hall, not caring where they took her.
* * *
“Lady Wildstorm. Come, sit beside me.”
