Page 97 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
Her voice was that of an adult speaking to a child.
In the nun’s eyes, she was the more evolved, and he the base animal. Her silent watchfulness pained him more than any accusation she might have uttered. But, as she led him to the main doors, she touched his hand.
“I believe you’re a good man, my Lord,” she said quietly. “By all that you have done for her here—tended to her while she sleeps, and your restraint just now—you have shown that you might endeavor to deserve her. When she returns to Wildstorm, you must continue to prove your worth.”
“Whenshe returns?”
“I have faith that she will return to you,” Agatha said, “I have faith in you.”
“Shehad faith in me, once.”
“And she will again.”
“May I visit her tomorrow, when she wakes?”
“Come back in the morning,” Agatha said. “I’ll petition the Mother on your behalf.”
* * *
For as long asEloise could remember, her sleep had been punctuated by nightmares—visions of grotesque shapes, leering smiles, and sharp pain. But the dream she’d just awoken from had been one of wish-fulfilment. She was in a lavender scented garden, bare feet on the warm earth, with a strong, kind man watching over her as she walked hand in hand with a child, one not afraid to recognize her for who she was.
“Mama!”
A small hand slipped under the bedfur and warm little fingers intertwined with hers.
She opened her eyes, and her likeness looked back at her.
“Violette,” she breathed. To hear the child recognize her as her mother! Last night had not been a dream—one of her dearest wishes had been fulfilled.
“Agatha asked me to help you dress,” Violette said. “The mother superior wishes to see you.”
Eloise slipped on a gown with Violette’s help. Her rounded belly was prominent, even under the thick woolen garment. Soon she would have another child to care for. She smiled at Violette’s chatter, her excitement at having a mother, and at the prospect of being an older sister. What a wonderful woman she would become! From now on, she would devote her life to her daughter.
And you, little one. She stroked her belly and smiled at the fluttering inside as the child moved. A cold whisper of dread invaded her mind before she pushed it away. What if it were deformed? After what Ralph had done to her—and her own sins—what if the child was born deformed—like herself?
It wouldn’t matter—she love the child as she loved Violette. They’d have the protection of the convent and would never have to suffer the judgement of an uncaring world.
Agatha entered the chamber.
“Lady Eloise. She is ready to see you now. Violette, you must accompany me.”
The mother superior’s chamber was as Eloise remembered it. The old woman motioned her to sit then took her hands, bowing her head to utter a prayer.
She focused gray gaze on Eloise.
Recognizing the perception in the older woman’s eyes, Eloise looked away in shame.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, child,” the old woman said.
“Thank you, Mother.”
The old nun continued to watch Eloise, her patient silence forming a deep void.
At length, Eloise broke the silence. “Why have you sent for me?”
“To discuss your future.”
“My future is here.”
