Page 12 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
“Aye, sir, I will.”
* * *
Eloise watchedPapa ride away until he was out of sight. She remained standing, as if by watching for long enough he would return.
Then she turned away. Papa had gone. Occupation was the best cure for melancholy and she went straight to the outbuilding housing the kitchens to discuss with Joan, the woman in charge, her recipes from Morigeaux. The servants were hard working, eager to please and appreciative of her guidance.
She would take comfort knowing she could improve the lives of these people. Perhaps, at length, her husband might begin to respect her, even if she could hope for nothing more.
While she oversaw the preparations for the evening meal the kitchen door opened. The beautiful redhead burst through the door and strode up to Joan, demanding a dish of sweetmeats.
“But Mistress Roswyn, we’re busy…”
“I care not. Do as I say or I’ll have you whipped.”
“I think not.” Eloise said. Roswyn turned, noticing her for the first time. She was a beauty. Almost a head taller than Eloise, she had large green eyes and a rosy complexion. Her gown clung to her figure, barely containing her ample bosom which quivered with anger.
The servants murmured and Eloise raised her hand to silence them. “The servants are preparing the evening meal,” she said. “You can take your sweetmeats along with the rest of the household.”
“Who are you to order me?” Roswyn demanded. “A Norman bitch forced upon us by our oppressors.”
Eloise stood her ground and the servants moved toward her, as if to shield her from Roswyn’s spite.
“I am the lady of Wildstorm.” Eloise spoke quietly, but her voice was clear. “My responsibilities include the running of this household and the welfare of the people. Your duties are, I believe, confined solely to the bedchamber on your back, or mayhap on your hands and knees in the stableyard.”
“You’ll do as I ask!” Roswyn almost screamed in rage but Eloise shook her head.
“I only take orders from my husband.”
“So be it.”
Roswyn stormed out of the kitchen.
Some moments later, Harald’s voice bellowed outside the kitchen and the door crashed against the wall as it burst open. Roswyn clung to him, her eyes bright as she explained how deeply she’d been insulted, and demanded retribution. From the fear in the servants’ eyes, they had endured many unjustified punishments in the past.
Harald hushed her. “I would hear what my wife has to say about her treatment of you.”
“I merely explained my duties,” Eloise said, “as well ashers.” She looked knowingly as Roswyn’s hand on Harald’s arm.
“What did you say to her, wife?”
“I told yourharlotthat I will only take orders from you.”
“What would you say if I ordered you to do what she asks?”
Eloise met his gaze. “I would do as my Lord wished.”
He let out a shout of laughter , then shook Roswyn’s hand off his arm. The victorious smile on her lips turned to a scowl when he told her to return to Jeffrey. When she started to plead, he pushed her away until she scurried off, cursing.
Harald held his hand out to Eloise. “Wife, I would speak with you before we dine.” She took it and followed him out of the room. Sending Roswyn away ignited her hope which his next words shattered.
“Expect no favors from me.”
“My lord, I…”
“I only tell you this so you understand what I expect of you. I shall remain faithful to my vows, but though I’ve done my duty and consummated our marriage, do not expect me to bed you again.”
“But…”
