Page 117 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
Eloise held out her hand. The whore hesitated, her eyes widening in disbelief at the mark of respect. Then she took it.
“Marlin,” Eloise said, smiling. “My husband is most fortunate to have secured your friendship. I trust that you may also call me friend.” She glanced outside where it had begun to rain, then called for Jeanette.
“You must have something to eat before you go home, Marlin,” she said.
“Oh no, lady!” Marlin protested.
“I insist,” Eloise said. “Jeanette will take you to the kitchens and give you supper. There’s plenty of food, for we’re having a banquet to mark the king’s last evening here.”
Marlin curtseyed before letting Jeanette lead her away.
Where Edwin, the king and queen—and, indeed, the whole world—had failed, it had taken a whore to renew her faith.
* * *
Empty trenchers litteredthe tables as the feast drew to a close, though wine still flowed in abundance. Eloise sat at her husband’s side, the queen on her right. The king’s laughter boomed around the hall. More relaxed than his last visit, his high spirits must be, at least in part, due to his wife’s presence. It was well known that he visited the queen each night, and they enjoyed a passionate, loving relationship.
The riots that plagued his reign still raged, new pockets of dissent springing up across the country. But at least at Wildstorm he could be assured of loyal subjects.
The queen leaned forward and picked up a sweetmeat.
“What a pity we return to London tomorrow, Lady Eloise,” she said. “My husband is sorry to take his leave.”
“He seems in good spirits,” Eloise replied, as the king threw back his head and laughed at something Harald said.
Matilda smiled. “Doubtless he still congratulates himself in saving the royal coffers a fortune in gold.”
“How so?” Eloise asked.
“Hasn’t your husband told you?”
“Told me what?” What secret was he harboring?
Matilda placed a hand over hers. “You’ll find out soon enough,” she said. “Don’t look so alarmed, my dear, it’s nothing that will cause you pain—quite the contrary. Your husband is a rare and wonderful man.”
“Forgive me,” Eloise said, “I don’t understand.”
“The king offered your husband a reward in return for ridding England of the traitor Beauvisage,” the queen said. “He invited Harald could name his price. Gold, land—it was his for the taking. But he refused it all.”
“He refused?”
“Aye. Instead, he made a request for a very particular favor—something which gold cannot purchase, which can only be granted by the king, and the church.”
Eloise’s heart froze. The queen could only mean one thing.
An annulment.
Did Harald believe he wanted to free her? Or did he merely want to rid himself of her?
“I hear there was much objection from the church,” the queen added, her mouth curling into a smile, “but the king can be very persuasive when he sets his heart on something.”
Eloise looked away.
“Are you not curious to know what that wish was?” the queen asked.
Eloise couldn’t bring herself to respond.
“No matter,” Matilda continued, “for ‘tis time to reveal all.”
