Page 90 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
To take the life of another, was a man’s duty in battle—not task for such a gentle soul.
“How fares she, woman?” he asked.
Maeda tightened her embrace round Eloise. She’d not left her side the entire journey.
The boy stirred beside her before settling once more into an undisturbed sleep. During the journey to Wildstorm his devotion to Eloise shone out in his words as he spoke of what they’d endured together and how tenderly he administered to her at Maeda’s behest. Save for a brief flash of pain in his young eyes, he seemed unaffected by what his ordeal. Was it the resilience of children who cannot understand the horrors that surround them? Or was it because Eloise had borne the brunt of Ralph’s evil, to protect the boy?
“She stirs again, my Lord.”
“Let me see.”
Harald climbed onto the cart. Eloise’s eyes opened, unseeing at first, then the pupils dilated and her gaze began to focus.
“’Tis I, Harald,” he said. “Have you come back to me?”
She shrank back, crying.
“Hush, sweet one,” Maeda soothed, but Eloise continued to cry, until Harald stepped off the cart. Edwin appeared by his side and took his hand, understanding the pain he suffered.
“I cannot take her home, Edwin,” he said. “She can’t bear to have me near her!”
“Then take her somewhere she’ll feel safe,” Edwin replied, “take her where she has something to live for.”
“Brother?”
“She found sanctuary in a convent before, did she not?” Edwin said. “She resolved to live on account of the child. We must therefore take her to the convent—to her child.”
* * *
Dawn had not yet brokenwhen Harald knocked on the main door of Greystone convent, ashamed of his previous manner of entry.
The same novice opened the door. Before she could cry for help Harald lifted his hand in a conciliatory gesture, speaking in a soft voice so unlike his own. He’d learned the bitter lesson that a gentle hand achieved more than an iron fist if directed with skill—the skill his wife possessed.
“Bring Agatha,” he said. “Lady Wildstorm is in need of her.”
She nodded and scurried back into the building, calling for Agatha.
Moments later the young nun appeared at the door, wiping the drowsiness from her eyes, which widened into full consciousness when she saw Eloise.
“My Lady!” She rushed forward and Eloise stirred, the familiar voice piercing the barrier she’d fashioned around her mind. She lifted her head and let out a soft cry.
“Agatha!”
She stumbled into Agatha’s arms, clinging to her, as if her life depended on it.
“What have they done to you?” Agatha asked.
“He—he took me again!” Eloise cried. “Lord save me—I can never be forgiven. My hands—soaked in his blood…I am lost! Lost!”
Her body shook, and Agatha stroked her head until her cries subsided.
“Shhh, sweet one, you’re safe now,” she said. “Irene, help me take her inside.”
Harald moved toward Agatha, and Eloise let out a cry.
Edwin pulled him back. “Let her go.”
“But I’m her husband,” Harald protested, “My place is by her side.”
