Page 87 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
“That’s no devil,” Edwin spoke softly.
Harald retreated and the creature lowered the knife.
A knife? What would a demon want with a knife?
And those eyes—a brilliant blue—how he’d dreamed of seeing those eyes again!
The creature was his wife.
“Eloise!” Harald advanced on her, but she lunged at him with the knife.
Two pairs of hands clasped Harald’s arms and dragged him out of harm’s way.
“Stay away from her!” Wulfstan cried. “She’s possessed by the devil.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Edwin interjected. He held out his hand and moved toward her.
“Lady Eloise?”
Rage-filled eyes glistened in his direction, unfocused, unseeing before she returned her gaze to Harald, knife aloft, body poised to spring.
“She doesn’t recognize you,” Wulfstan whispered.
“Don’t you know me?” Edwin spoke softly. “Your friend?”
He took another step and her gaze snapped back to him.
Harald’s chest constricted until he struggled for breath, a harsh wail forcing its way out of his throat. What manner of evil had driven her to such madness?
Her gentle mind had been broken. All he could do now, was give her sweet relief and end her misery—he owed her that. He had brought her to this, and he must end her suffering—like he’d ended Jeffrey’s.
“Stay back, Edwin,” he said, his hoarse voice matching the hiss of steel as he drew his sword. “This is a deed which is my duty to perform—mine, and mine alone.”
“No!” Edwin cried. “She’s not a wounded animal to be put out of its misery. Don’t hurt her.”
“She’s lost to me.”
“No, she’s not!” Edwin cried. When you lay near to death at the tournament, she was the only one who didn’t abandon hope—when even I had given up on you. She showed me then that it’s worth fighting for the one you love.”
A shrill scream came from behind.
“My Lady! Oh, my Lady! What have they done to you!”
One of Harald’s men held a struggling woman in his arms. She freed herself and ran toward Eloise but Wulfstan restrained her.
“Have a care, old crone. She’s possessed.”
The old woman shook her head, “No, she’s gentle and kind. ’Tis Lord Beauvisage who is possessed.”
She spied the body on the floor and shrieked. “You’ve killed him!”
“Not us.” Edwin gestured to Eloise who had retreated to the far wall, her wide stare moving furtively from man to man. “It was her.”
The woman began to sob. “Thank the lord!” she cried. “I feared he might kill her.”
“What is your name, old woman?” Edwin asked.
“Maeda.”
