Page 79 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
The door opened and Harald turned to face the fruits of his wife’s sin.
Standing beside Irene, clutching the hand of another young nun, was a child of about ten summers.
A delicate face framed by golden hair—two bright blue eyes looked up at him. How familiar they looked! But unlike Eloise’s eyes, which were always so sad, the child’s gaze showed only pleasure. She broke into a smile and dipped into a curtsey.
“Bonjour, Monsieur.”
He continued to stare, and at length, the child’s eyes filled with fear. She stepped back into the arms of the nun behind her and whispered something in rapid French that Harald couldn’t decipher.
The woman pulled the child close to her and bent her head down. “Hush Violette, he’ll not harm you.”
A calming hand circled his arm.
“Brother, be kind—she’s a child.”
“She’s my wife’s…” Harald began, but the mother superior interrupted him.
“Have a care!” she cried. “Irene, take Violette to the garden.”
“Yes, Mother.” The novice took the child’s hand and led her out. Violette began asking questions, referring to her ‘Lady patroness’ but the door closed, before Harald could discern her words.
“Lady patroness?” Harald asked.
“She means your wife,” the mother superior said. “Violette knows little of her history.”
“Does she know that herLady Patronesshas abandoned her?”
“The Lady Eloise would never abandon Violette!” Agatha cried. “For the past ten summers the child has been her only reason for living.” Her voice held a slight accent.
The nun was a Norman.
“Enough, Agatha,” the mother said. “You must tell Lord Wildstorm what happened to his wife.”
“But I pledged an oath to the Monseigneur de Morigeaux…”
“…and now you must break that oath. Some vows are meant to be broken, for the greater good.”
The young nun closed her eyes, her brow creasing as if reliving a painful memory. At length she nodded.
“Very well. Monsieur,” she said. “Ten summers ago your wife was raped.”
An explosion of fury coursed through him. “That’s a lie women use to entrap men. I’ve never known a woman to be unwilling.”
“A man will ignore a woman’s screams!” Agatha cried, “or mayhap he’ll terrify her into submission to believe she consents. Do you think a child would be willing?”
“A child?”
“Aye,” Agatha said. “Lady Eloise was barely older than the child you saw today.”
“No!” Harald roared. “I’ll listen no more!”
Edwin’s grip on Harald’s shoulder tightened. The old nun merely shook her head disapprovingly.
“Let Agatha speak,” she said, in her quiet voice. “Whether you believe her or not, pay me the courtesy of listening. Once you have heard, you may judge your wife as you see fit. But I warn you, Harald of Wildstorm. Look to your own sins first. Know that we are all judged at the day of reckoning.”
She waved at Agatha to continue. The young nun’s distress was evident, but she stood firm as she began to relate the history of Eloise De Morigeaux.
Chapter 20
