Page 101 of An Ill-Made Match

“The withholding of one could be considered an additional punishment,” pointed out the King blandly.

The Queen clapped her hands. “Enough! I am decided,” she announced in ringing tones. “His highness the King has kindly agreed the sentence is mine to dispose in this instance, as it is I who have suffered the greatest injury.” Eden blinked at this, and did not dare look in Roland’s direction. “I have given this matter great thought, and having taken Lady Dorothea Montmayne’s complaint into consideration. I think the best way forward would be to suspend the match, for one calendar month. During this time, Sir Roland will think how best to woo the Lady Eden in a manner fitting for a chief lady in waiting to the Queen. If, at the end of this period, the lady accepts his suit, then they will receive our blessing in the royal chapel.”

A loud buzz of exclamations spread throughout the hall, until the Queen raised a hand for silence. “Do you accept my judgement, Sir Roland?” she asked archly.

Eden waited calmly for Roland to object, but when he spoke, his words stunned her.

“I do,” he said simply.

Eden turned her head to stare at his handsome profile, and then turned back to the Queen, her fingernails digging into her palms. She had been expecting him to object, to rail at her pronouncement. Indeed, if he cared in any way, she told herself, he would argue back against such a ruling. Which meant he must be indifferent. She felt mortified at his lack of reaction. Suddenly she was finding it hard to even breath.

“You have something which you would like to say, Eden?” suggested the Queen.

Eden felt her face grow hot. “I have something to say to my husband,” she admitted tightly. “If I can still address him as such!”

The Queen’s eyebrows shot up, but she nodded and waved a hand obligingly.

Eden stood up from her chair and took a few steps forward and then turned around to face him. Roland looked back at her a moment, then came to his feet and walked forward also.

Eden waited until he drew level with her. Then she faced him down, her chest heaving with indignation. That he should not stand up against this measure, cut her to the quick. It was outrageous! Monstrous, even.

“Now, love, don’t take on so…” Roland started placatingly, clearly picking up on her mood, he closed the distance between them. “I only mean…”

Eden snatched away her hand as he reached for it, feeling suddenly extremely angry. “If you imagine for one minute I’ll be sneaking to your bedchamber again, you’re vastly mistaken!” she flung in his face.

“Again?” barked King Wymer behind them. “Hah!”

Eden ignored them, her furious gaze still on Roland’s face.

“Wife…” Roland started again, his reasonable tone infuriating her.

“I think not!” said Eden crisply. “If we are back to mere courtship days, then you can hardly call me that!”

“Eden,” he said loudly. “Don’t misunderstand me-”

“Oh, I won’t! Don’t worry!” she retorted bitterly. “Not again!”

At that, he gave a suppressed sound of irritation and taking another step towards her, seized her forearm, dragging her into his embrace. She tried to resist, but her satin slippers did not grip the flagstones and he was a lot stronger than she was in any case. Dimly, Eden registered the fact that benches were scraping along the floor as people craned in their seats to get a better view of them. Close by was the sound of a crash, as one bench overturned altogether. She found she didn’t even care, she could not tear her gaze from Roland’s even if her life depended on it.

“Stop being a little shrew,” he growled at her, his fingers tightening around her upper arms. “Do you want me to kiss you in front of everyone?”

Eden had already opened her mouth on a retort, when his words registered with her. “W-what? You wouldn’t dare!”

A look of amusement crossed his face. “Oh Eden,” he murmured. “I do love you.” The background noise faded, and time stood still. Everything else was just… irrelevant. Roland’s lips came down on hers and he kissed her. Not angrily, but thoroughly, and with complete conviction that it was his right. When she stopped resisting him, his arm slipped around her holding her firmly against him. “My love,” he whispered in her ear, his words alight with laughter. “That was so indiscreet, it was actually worthy of a Vawdrey.” His shoulders shook with laughter. “I think in future, Renlowe needs to take you for a mentor in fearlessness.”

Eden, realizing she had been rather impolitic, looked back over her shoulder in trepidation at the Queen. Roland’s arm was tight around her waist. She found herself clutching at the front of his doublet. She took a deep, fortifying breath, but before she could even utter a word, noticed the King was addressing the Queen in an urgent undertone.

“I think you’d better climb down off your high horse, Armenal,” he was recommending tetchily. “The Lady is clearly not pleased with your notion, not pleased at all. What’s the point in punishing the fellow further? That’s all I ask. Seems pointless if you ask me. He took her un-dowered and lost an honorary title, seems to me that should be the end of the matter.”

The Queen leant against one arm of her throne, and regarded Eden thoughtfully. “Now this is a strange turn of events,” she said. “I must confess myself at a loss. Your reactions are quite the opposite of what I expected.” She tilted her head to one side. “Perhaps if you explained why it is you would have no objection to following my ruling?” she said turning to Roland. The room hushed at once, and you could have heard a pin drop.

He cleared his throat, though did not release Eden. “In truth, I am not proud of the way I conducted my courtship of my wife,” he said, flushing slightly. “This gives me the chance to set that to rights.”

Eden held her breath. He wanted the opportunity to woo her? She was still reeling from this, as the Queen turned to her. Suddenly, she realized she had not even responded to his declaration that he loved her.

“And now Eden, why do you not wish to take this month-long hiatus from married life?”

This was it. Her opportunity to be as fearless as Sir Renlowe, she thought. “Because,” Eden said in a clear, carrying voice, that even those spectators at the back could hear. “As a wooer, Roland Vawdrey may have been indifferent. But as a husband, he is without peer. I love him, and I will have no other.”