Page 50 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
“Shall I tend to you?” she purred. “Isn’t it time that a real woman warmed your bed?”
“Leave me,” he said. “I must take a bath.”
“Let me bathe you.”
“I saidleave!” he roared.
Roswyn’s beautiful face turned ugly momentarily, then her expression grew sly.
“Mayhap Baron Beauvisage is in need of a bath,” she said.
Devil take her! She was trying to make him jealous—the most abhorrent of a woman’s tactics. But subtlety was not a quality Roswyn possessed. Unlike Eloise….”
Eloise…
Every waking thought returned to his wife—the woman he’d almost given his heart to. While he’d battled on the tourney field to become one of the final eight, his attention had been constantly drawn to her. Among the cacophony of cheering, he’d heard onlyhervoice, his heart jolting at her sharp cry of anguish which had given him warning, just before Robert of Vichy thrust a blade at his face.
An invisible connection bonded them. His head and his friend told him she was a whore, but as for his heart and his brother…
Brother—she had lain with her own brother! Despite how much she appeared to care for him, he must never forget that. He must heed Beauvisage’s words, and stay strong—fight the temptation to take her into his arms and his bed.
* * *
After the eveningmeal had concluded and the guests had taken their leave for the night, Harald retired to his chamber. During the evening meal Eloise had complied with all his instructions to tend to Beauvisage, playing the part of Lady Wildstorm to perfection. Yet the haunted look in her eyes spoke of deeply rooted pain, which intensified when he ordered her to bathe his guest before retiring. Once again, Edwin had cast a disapproving glare in Harald’s direction.
But his brother’s interference had only irritated him more, and he’d turned his attentions to Roswyn for the remainder of the evening. It was a spiteful act, but he’d be damned if he let Edwin try to make him feel guilty when it was others who’d sinned.
A loud scream cut through the silence.
Eloise!
The instinct to protect her was too strong and he broke into a run, toward the source of the scream. A loud hammering joined the screaming and Harald turned a corner to find Beauvisage outside Eloise’s chamber, pounding on the door. A cloth barely covered his loins and water dripped off his body forming a puddle at his feet. For a moment the expression on Ralph’s face made Harald’s stomach clench—mouth set in a hard line, eyes glittering with a powerful hatred.
“Beauvisage!” Harald cried.
Ralph turned to face him, and his face broke into a smile. Then he threw back his head and laughed.
Harald blinked to clear his vision. Tired from the day’s exertions, he must have imagined Ralph’s expression. He smiled back at his friend.
“What is my wife up to?” he asked.
“A little harmless amusement, my friend.”
“She has tended to you?”
“Aye. I’ll bid you goodnight and see you on the field tomorrow.”
After Ralph’s footsteps faded into the distance, Harald tugged at the door handle. He met resistance—someone had barricaded it from the inside. He held his ear against the thick wooden door. Muffle sobs came from the other side.
“Wife, open the door.”
The crying stopped. He tried the door again but it remained closed.
“Woman! Don’t make me force it open.”
After a pause, he heard wood scraping against the stone floor. The door opened to reveal Eloise, her gown soaked down the front. Her body shivered so violently she looked as if she might collapse at any moment. But her eyes—the raw terror in their expression! He took her hand and her little fingers gripped him with surprising strength.
“What’s happened?”
