Page 75 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
That evening, Ralph took Harald’s place at the head of the dining table, Roswyn at his side. Ignoring the insult, Eloise took her meal in silence before excusing herself, but not before noticing Wulfstan’s watchful gaze. Was he also in league with Beauvisage?
The following morning after working in the herb store, she returned to her chamber to find the door open. Roswyn stood in the center of the room.
“What are you doing in my chamber?” Eloise demanded.
Roswyn smiled. “You have no authority here, since Harald deserted you.”
Eloise’s gowns had been placed on the bed along with her jewelry—including the necklace the King had given her on her marriage.
“How dare you presume to take those!”
Roswyn smiled. “I dare because I’ll soon be the lady here.”
“I’mlady of Wildstorm,” Eloise said. “You’re nothing but a whore who watched while her husband was beaten and killed before parting her thighs for the man who destroyed him! You think Harald wants you?”
Roswyn laughed. “When Harald finds his faithless bitch of a wife has deserted him I shall be there to console him.”
“I’ll fight you at every turn,” Eloise said. “I’m stronger than I look.”
Roswyn smiled though her eyes remained hard.
“You’ll not be strong enough against two.”
Eloise barely registered the footsteps behind her. A blow from behind sent a blistering explosion through her head and she fell forward into darkness even before her body hit the stone floor.
* * *
When Eloise opened her eyes,the ground vibrated beneath her. The smell of dirt and decay smothered her senses but when she tried to move her hands were bound behind her back. She was lying in a cart, beneath a sack. She tried to move her head, but a red hot needle of pain shot through the base of her neck. Someone had struck her from behind, but who?
Her question was answered soon enough. The movement stopped, and the sack was lifted, then a smiling face came into view.
“My dear.”
Beauvisage.
Another face appeared – Roswyn.
“My love, we must keep moving,” she said.
Ignoring her, Ralph reached out to Eloise and caressed her cheek. Then lifted her to a sitting position. Her skin crawled at the touch of his hands, bringing back memories of that awful day in the forest near Morigeaux. She cringed, and he chuckled.
“I see you still need to be reminded of the love we shared.”
“I never loved you, Ralph.”
She looked around her. The terrain was familiar—they were close to Wildstorm. She was in a cart, pulled by a pony from the Wildstorm stables, Ralph’s horse standing patiently beside the animal. If she cried out she might be heard.
Roswyn had the same idea.
“My love, we must keep moving. Harald loves her not but with her witch’s wiles she may still have some power over him. I want her as far away from Wildstorm as possible.”
“And how do you propose to do that unobserved?” Eloise asked, her speaking more bravely than she felt. “A man on a warhorse accompanied by a harlot in a cart—any casual observer would be suspicious. Free me, and I’ll say nothing to my husband.”
Ralph sighed. “You are right, Eloise.”
Might he release her? Surely it couldn’t be that easy?
“An observer would be suspicious,” he said. “We mustn’t let that happen.”
