Page 4 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
“You must marry him whether you wish it or no,” Papa said, sharply. “This marriage will help ensure peace between Norman and Saxon. Do not let me down.”
He kissed the top of her head and spoke more softly. “Don’t let the past cloud your judgement,chérie. This is a rich and fertile land. The people are hard-working, and some of them know a little of our language. Your situation couldn’t be more fortunate—and the convent is barely an hour’s ride away.”
“You’ve secured—her—a place? I’ll be able to visit her?”
“Aye, but hush, child,” Papa said. “Do not speak of her.”
Through her veil she saw a large rectangular wooden building with a thatched roof, together with a number of outbuildings. Smaller dwellings surrounded the main hall—a village, which stretched into the forest. A river ran alongside the village, disappearing between the trees. Beyond, a soft hill rose, bathed in the watery light of the setting sun. Men worked on the hillside, clearing the ground to lay the foundations for the stone castle William insisted be erected. Though built from both English and Norman stone, signifying the union between the two peoples, it would tower over Wildstorm as a reminder that England belonged to the Normans.
The people here must feel oppressed by her arrival. She’d have a difficult task convincing them—let alone her husband—that her countrymen desired peace.
My husband.
Papa led her toward the main building, where two men waited, together with a handful of servants and villagers. Both men bowed. The taller man, clearly a soldier, wore a sword and his lips curled into a scowl. His companion was dressed in the manner of a nobleman. Though shorter than his companion, even he towered over her slight frame. He stepped forward and bowed.
“Greetings, Alain de Morigeaux, and Lady Eloise. I bid you welcome.”
A sense of relief rushed through Eloise and she dropped a curtsey. The man spoke with the cultured tone of a scholar, and he spoke almost perfect Norman French. Through her veil she distinguished a kind face, deep brown eyes and soft dark hair. He took her hand and kissed the back of her fingers.
Her bridegroom was not as barbaric as she’d feared.
“My Lord Harald,” Papa said. “It gives me much pleasure to present...”
“Forgive me,” the man interrupted, “I’m Edwin. Harald is my brother. I apologize he’s not here to welcome you.”
“Where is he, if he’s not here to greet us?” Eloise heard the irritation in Papa’s voice.
The soldier barked out a laugh. “I’ll wager he’s rutting in the woods.”
“Jeffrey!” Lord Edwin admonished. “Do not disrespect our guests.”
“They’re conquerors and oppressors, not guests,” Jeffrey replied in French, before repeating in English. The villagers murmured among themselves, but fell silent as Edwin raised his hand.
“Your lord has sworn fealty to William,” Edwin said. “Anyone not treating our guests with respect will be dealt with harshly. Is that understood?”
“Forgive me.” Jeffrey inclined his head.
Ignoring him, Papa turned to his entourage.
“Take the Lady Eloise’s belongings to her chamber.”
The Norman servants scrambled out of the cart, together with Jeanette, Eloise’s maidservant, and began unloading the trunks. Edwin nodded towards a group of Saxons dressed in brown homespun tunics, and they scurried forward to assist.
“Monseigneur de Morigeaux, you must forgive Jeffrey,” Edwin said. “The battle is still fresh in our minds.”
“I understand loss in battle myself, Edwin of Wildstorm,” Papa said. “Butyoumust understand that England now belongs to William, and he granted Wildstorm to my daughter. If your brother does not wed her tonight, I shall declare the betrothal null and void and turn you out. Do I make myself clear?”
“Papa…” Eloise protested.
“Daughter, be silent,” Papa said. “Edwin, take us to the chapel. Your brother has until nightfall.”
* * *
“Harald, you’re a fool.”
Harald’s brother stood at the main door of the hall, frowning as his gaze settled on the two whores.
“Be off with you, wenches,” Harald said. Marlin and Gertrude each blew him a kiss and hurried towards the village.
