Page 24 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
“My Lady?”
Jeffrey’s voice sliced through her memories. They had arrived home. He held out his hand and she took it, grateful for the support, legs unsteady as she landed on the hard ground.
“I’ll find someone to attend you,” he said.
“Nay,” she replied, her voice shaking, wanting solitude and quiet over company.
“But your gown is soiled.”
“I care not. Leave me be.”
Jeffrey shrugged his shoulders. He was an honorable man, but he’d lost his father and brothers at Hastings. His dislike of her was obvious—it glittered in his eyes when he looked at her. Had she desired friendship she might have been saddened by it, but she only wanted peace and quiet. She left the stableyard, and took the path into the forest.
Shortly after arriving at Wildstorm she’d found a secluded spot in the forest where a tributary of the river ran into a gorge. She heard the rush of water before she saw it—a waterfall plummeting over a rocky platform. The path led her to the foot of the waterfall where it plunged into a deep pool. The ground underfoot was treacherous, but she took care not to venture too close to the water’s edge.
The hunt forgotten, she took comfort from watching the water droplets—shimmering crystals tumbling through the air. The sunlight caught each droplet, dancing in a myriad of colors like precious jewels. The rush of the waterfall reminded her of the wind in the trees at Morigeaux. Further down the river, the water fell less steeply, the softer babbling sound akin to the song of a water nymph calling to her from beneath the waters.
Sitting beside the water, she closed her eyes and listened to the songs of the earth. The gentle caress of the moisture-laden air soothed her burning cheeks, lessening her distress. The hunt was part of life—to provide food for the people of Wildstorm. But the animal had reached out to her and touched her soul before it died.
Ten summers ago she had been that deer.
* * *
The following morning,Eloise received the letter she’d been waiting for. It was time to visit the convent. After summoning Jeanette to help her dress, she sent Torfin to the stables to tell the groom to prepare her mount. Laden with a basket of bread and cheese she set off.
Greystone Convent was barely an hour’s ride away. A small square building of soft gray stone from which it earned its name, backed by a walled garden, it had a welcoming air reminiscent of the convent near Morigeaux. A novice greeted her at the door and led her to the Mother Superior’s chamber where the old woman inside stood and held out her arms.
“Child, you’re most welcome.”
“Mother.” Eloise took the nun’s proffered hand and kissed the ring on her finger before handing over the basket.
“Thank you my child. I trust you had a good journey.”
Eloise nodded. For part of the ride, she’d been haunted by the notion she was being followed, but she neither saw nor heard anyone. The same uneasiness had crept over her the day before on her return from the waterfall. Her imagination must be toying with her. A day’s contemplation would settle her discomfort.
The old nun took her hands and bade her close her eyes for a silent prayer. A sense of calm enveloped her as the nun’s soft words flowed from her lips. Perhaps Papa had been right in suggesting Eloise take holy orders. She had wanted a family to love—but though she found occupation at Wildstorm, love had eluded her.
A young woman knocked and entered the chamber. Eloise cried with joy on seeing a familiar face from her past.
“Sister Agatha!”
“Lady Eloise—‘tis good to see you.”
“And you,” Eloise replied. “Is she well?”
“Aye. She’s settling in. Would you like to see her?”
“Very much.”
With the mother superior’s consent, Sister Agatha led Eloise out into the garden, where she glimpsed a young child walking among the shrubbery, hand in hand with one of the novices. She called out and the child turned, her face lighting up into a smile.
“Lady patroness!”
“Violette!”
Eloise crouched, arms outstretched, as the child ran towards her and threw her arms round her neck. She clung to the child, burying her face in her hair to hide her tears.
“My dear child, I’m so glad to see you again.”
