Page 98 of The Saxon Lord's Unwanted Bride
“Is it?” The nun leaned forward, a slight frown creasing in her face.
“If my child is a girl I want her to remain here,” Eloise said, “with Violette and I.”
“What if I refuse?”
“I beg you Mother,” she pleaded, “do not take my child away.”
“You misunderstand me, my dear,” the old nun said. “I ask what you would do if I refused to letyouremain here.”
So—her sins had not been forgiven. Eloise bowed her head in resignation. A thin hand covered her own, its soft papery skin almost translucent.
“Tell me, Eloise—will you love the child you carry?”
Eloise pulled her hand free.
“Of course I will!” she cried. “How can you ask such a thing?”
“I ask because I wish to understand your heart, Eloise. Will you love Harald’s child?”
“You don’t doubt my love for Violette,” she said. “She was conceived by force, and in hatred. I hated her father—yet I love her.”
Eloise cradled her belly. “This child I carry—I cannot speak for her father, but formypart, she was conceived out of love.”
The old nun smiled. “I thought as much. Forgive me, but can you see why I tested you?”
Eloise shook her head.
“Your place is not in here with us, Eloise, my dear. It’s out in the world—with your husband. He brought you here to heal. Now you’re recovering, you should be with him.”
“No…”
“You can stay until your confinement, if you wish, but your place is with him—not confined behind these walls. Search your feelings, Eloise, and you’ll see the truth.”
The nun stood, cutting off Eloise’s protests.
“I won’t force you to leave,” she said, “but if you remain here, you will never find peace. Go now, and think on what I’ve said.”
Alone in the cold stone passageway, Eloise’s thoughts crowded in on her. Could she spend the rest of her life in contemplation and prayer? Would she be denied peace if she remained here? What of Wildstorm—and the people she’d grown to love and care for?
And Harald—did she really wish to never see him again?
Though she loved him, she couldn’t dispel the memory of his face the last time he’d looked at her—the disgust in his eyes when he told her that he knew Violette was alive…
She stepped out into the garden, and banished the darkness from her mind, as the golden child—her beloved daughter—ran toward her, arms outstretched.
Her mind warred with itself. Her heart whispered that the mother superior was right. But she could not be parted from Violette again. If she returned to Harald, he might prevent her from seeing the child—something which could not be borne.
Closing her eyes, she leaned against the back of the bench, one arm round her child, the other cradling her belly. A life here with her children was better than the alternatives.
Violette stirred, then leapt off the bench, with a squeal of excitement.
“My lord! Welcome!”
Eloise snapped her eyes open, and her chest tightened with terror, as her innocent, trusting child ran, unafraid, toward the man standing at the edge of the courtyard. Helplessly, she watched him lift Violette, with hands big enough to snap her little body in two.
Harald…
Rendered immobile by fear, her lips could barely form his name, as she fought for breath, his past words taunting her.
