Page 20 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
Eloise shook her head. “Let them stay if my husband sent them.” She turned to the Saxons. “My maidservant shall tend to me, but you may assist her.”
With Eloise translating, Jeanette tended to her, guiding the two women. There was no serious damage apart from a bruise sustained when she jumped into the river. She had suffered much worse in her life. Harald’s gesture in sending someone, however inept, to tend to her, was an unexpected act of kindness.
The following morning, Eloise approached Harald while he was breaking his fast alone in the dining hall. Unobserved, he looked pained, strain lining his face. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps, a momentary flash of concern in his eyes.
“I would beg an audience with you my Lord.”
He inclined his head towards the chair beside him. She slipped into it and shook her head when he offered her a piece of bread. He grunted then continued eating, staring straight ahead. Undeterred she resumed speaking.
“There are no proper alms here for the poor,” she said, “or healing for the sick. I have some skill at healing. At Morigeaux, I…”
Harald’s voice rumbled in his chest. “Is my wife giving me orders?”
“I’m merely making a request. They’re our people—our responsibility”. He looked up at her, his eyes widening, softening his expression momentarily before he turned his attention back to the dish in front of him.
“Why shouldyoucare for them?” he asked.
“You think I care naught because I’m a Norman?” she said, swallowing the flash of indignation. “I may not be a Saxon, but I’m the same as you in essentials. I’m just as capable of caring—of loving.”
Harald took a deep draught from his winecup and set it down, waving a servant over to refill it. “And what of me?” he asked. “Am I capable of loving?”
She averted her eyes from his gaze. “A man has no need of love to fulfil his duties,” she said. “He needs to be strong. He may believe kindness to be a weakness, but where his wife undertakes such gestures on his behalf, he can both claim the credit, and retain his pride. I understand you have no wish to be loved by—by the people here, but neither should you wish to be feared. This way you’ll be respected.”
“But they may loveyou?” he said. “Is that why you ask this of me—to gain their love?”
She lifted her eyes and met his gaze. “Nay, my Lord,” she said. “I don’t expect to be loved.” A flicker of pain compassion his expression before he blinked, and it was gone.
“I’m content knowing that I do my duty to our people,” she continued. “Let me do this for their sake, if not for mine.”
“Very well.”
“Thank you, my Lord.” She placed a hand on his arm and smiled. He froze and she felt his muscles tense, the raw, harsh strength concealed under the soft material of his tunic. She removed her hand curtseyed, then took her leave.
She spent the rest of the day with Jeanette and Mildred—the younger of the Saxon women who’d tended to her earlier. Together they cleaned and prepared one of the unused outbuildings to be used as a store for herbs, medicines and bandages. Mildred was eager to learn about healing and Eloise smiled at her attempts to communicate with Jeanette, the two women teaching each other different words in their respective languages. After they had finished Mildred took Eloise’s hand.
“If I must speak, Lady, I’m grateful for what you have done for my sister, Gerda.”
“Gerda is your sister?” Eloise asked. “Have you seen her? Is Alyce recovering?”
“Aye,” Mildred said. “Gerda has asked me to thank you for the gifts.”
“Gifts?”
“The furs, cheese and meat, which Master Collin sent to her this morning. He said they were gifts from you.”
Eloise smiled to herself.
Harald had kept his word. Perhaps her husband understood kindness, even if he was unable to show it openly.
* * *
As Eloise roseto take her leave after the evening meal, Harald took her hand.
“I would have you accompany me to my chamber.”
Nervously she followed him out of the hall, ignoring Roswyn who glared as she passed her. Since Edwin’s absence, the woman was almost constantly at the hall, her whining voice haunting the passageways as she tried to attract Harald’s attention or, when unsuccessful, flaunted herself in front of any man she came close to, while her husband Jeffrey watched, his expression sullen.
Harald pulled Eloise inside his chamber and immediately started to unlace her overgown, slipping it off before pulling his own tunic over his head, throwing it on the floor beside the bed. With trembling hands she removed her undergarments and pressed her lips together to stop a whimper of fear escaping. When she looked back up, he stood before her completely naked and she gave a sharp intake of breath. She had never seen a man like him; a giant, his expansive muscular chest covered in scars from years of swordfighting. A layer of fine blonde hair spread across his body and tapered down towards his waist. Everything about him spoke of strength and raw, potent male power—a man claiming ownership of his mate.
