Page 27 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
“I have no need of assistance, Your Grace.”
“Nevertheless, I insist,” William replied. “My critics must be silenced. Let them see that all Normans are welcome at Wildstorm, to work hand in hand with one of the few Saxon lords I have permitted to remain on his land.”
Permitted to remain…
The threat lingered behind William’s words. He was not completely convinced of Harald’s lack of involvement in the uprisings. As Edwin had said, a single oath of fealty would not guarantee the King’s trust. Yet Harald understood William’s motives—he could not have secured England had he trusted each and every man who bowed before him. William would spend the rest of his days looking over his shoulder, expecting death at every corner, in every dark room he entered.
The King deserved Harald’s pity as well as his admiration.
“Speaking of de Morigeaux,” William continued, “how fares your wife?”
“She awaits your arrival, Your Grace.”
William sighed. “There’s nothing so fine as a contented wife. I trust you treat her well.”
“My Lord?”
“I’ve known her since she was a child, and have always been fond of her—of the whole family,” William said. “She has the sweetest disposition. An interesting match for you, methinks.”
Harald smiled in response though a stab of jealousy pierced his chest. Perhaps William had been her lover. Was this the true reason for his visit—to resume their affair?
William gave a short laugh. “I had at one time contemplated giving her to a friend of her brother, but her father refused. He insisted she wed a Saxon.”
“I thought the marriage was atyourbidding,” Harald said.
“Just because I’m king doesn’t mean I’d ignore a request from an old friend,” William replied. “And I don’t regret my decision. Better to find a father willing to give his daughter to a Saxon than one who’d resist. Alain loves his daughter—perhaps too much. His son’s death hit him hard—Eloise, also. She and her brother were particularly close.”
William sighed. “I doubt Alain would have accepted any Norman as husband for her—nobody could match Henri de Morigeaux in looks and virility except, perhaps his friend. But the outcome was for the best. I’m confident you’re the best husband for her.”
“What happened to the man you had in mind for her?” Harald asked.
“I granted him a property near Exeter,” William replied. “The hall was ruined by fire, but he has enough wealth to build a fortress. You’ll meet him—he’s the one I spoke of. Baron Beauvisage.”
For the remainder of the journey William discussed the prospect of holding a tournament at Wildstorm in the summer, to unite the nobility by inviting Saxon and Norman alike to compete. While most of the landowners near Wildstorm were Normans, a handful of Saxons retained their estates. The tournament would demonstrate their equality of status yet, to Harald, the superior strength and swordsmanship of the Normans would act as a public warning against the folly of Saxon uprisings.
The afternoon shadows lengthened as the party approached Wildstorm Hall. Eloise stood at the entrance to welcome their guests, and dropped to a low curtsey before the King. Yet Harald saw no particular affection on her part other than for a family friend. William bowed over her hand and kissed it, yet though she smiled, she gently withdrew it.
* * *
To Eloise,William’s visit was a welcome distraction. To see her husband and the king riding out to visit the local villages and estates, Saxon and Norman working together, ignited her hope that peace would prevail. William’s plans for a tournament at Wildstorm filled her with joy—a chance to unite the people, and show Harald how she could serve him and all at Wildstorm. She took pleasure in the occupation of preparing for the feast to honor William’s visit, and the opportunity to showcase the recipes and traditions she’d enjoyed at Morigeaux. William had no news of Papa, but to hear her native tongue spoken with a familiar dialect was of some consolation. It was balm to her heart to hear William speak of dear Henri and share the sweet memories of her childhood when he was alive.
On the last night of his visit as the feast drew to a close, William leaned over and whispered conspiratorially in her ear.
“I trust your husband gives you satisfaction.”
Blushing, she lowered her eyes, not daring to meet Harald’s gaze though she sensed he watched her.
“You chose well for me, My Lord.”
“It seems I did,” William chuckled. “I would ask his permission for you to bathe me before I retire.”
“It would be my honor, if my husband would permit it.”
Harald’s gruff response was barely audible and Eloise issued instructions to prepare a bath in the king’s chamber.
In accordance with tradition, the duties of the lady of the estate included bathing honored guests. Eloise arrived at William’s chamber to find the servants already filling the huge wooden bathtub with hot water. Jeanette sprinkled rose petals over the surface, letting loose their sweet aroma. She bobbed a curtsey and fled as William strode into the chamber, already unlacing his tunic.
“Your Grace,” Eloise chided, “would you frighten my maidservants?”
