Page 113 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
“Alfred! How good it is to see you well. I swear you’ve grown.”
“Master Collin says I’ll be taller than him one day,” the boy said. “He gave me leave from my lessons to accompany Jeanette on your arrival.”
“Your lessons?”
“Alfred now lives in the main hall,” Jeanette said, “and takes lessons from Collin.”
“Aye,” Alfred added, pride in his voice. “Master Collin says that if I’m good, then one day I might take over the stewardship of Wildstorm.”
“I don’t understand,” Eloise said.
Jeanette smiled. “Lord Harald insisted the boy live here,” she said. “Isn’t that right, young man?”
The boy nodded. “He’s been very kind,” he said. “I’m not so afraid of him, now.”
Why had Harald, who’d looked upon the peasants with disdain, elevated a lame, orphaned peasant child to such a position?
“Come, children.” Jeanette’s crisp voice took on the tone she’d used with Eloise as a child—one not to be ignored. “Lady Wildstorm is tired.” She nodded to Wulfstan who held his hand out to both children.
“Jeanette…” Eloise protested.
“Wulfstan will take care of them,” Jeanette interrupted. “You must rest after your journey.”
Eloise saw the futility in arguing with her, and she entered her chamber. It was largely unchanged, save for one item. Someone had placed an earthenware jar beside the bed, and filled it with wild flowers and grasses. They were the same grasses Eloise had picked with Violette on her visits to the convent, bringing them back to Wildstorm in secret.
She ran a fingertip across the heads of the grasses, banishing the image of the posy in Harald’s palm, crushed beyond recognition, the tattered remnants scattered over the dining table accompanied by smooth laughter, cold blue eyes flashing with victorious mirth…
“Lady—what’s wrong?”
“Merely a memory,” Eloise sighed.
A rough hand took hers and patted it. “I understand. Alfred’s childish view of the world has enabled him to banish the evils from his mind. But you have a longer road to travel before you can conquer the demons that haunt you. In time you’ll build new memories—good memories to overshadow the nightmares.”
Eloise fingered the tip of one of the grasses, then pulled it from the jar.
“Don’t you like the flowers?” Jeanette asked. “I can remove them.”
“No—leave them be. You’ve gone to such trouble to gather them.”
“It wasn’t I who gathered them.”
“Then who did?”
“Your husband,” Jeanette said. “He went out in the rain this morning to gather them.
* * *
As soon asthe roof of Wildstorm Hall came into view Harald urged his horse on.
“Eager to see your wife again?” A voice barked with laughter.
“Hush, husband!”
Harald smiled to himself. Matilda ruled William as surely as William ruled England.
Edwin drew his horse alongside Harald.
“Brother, may I speak with you?”
