Page 11 of An Ill-Made Match

“Oh-ho! Your room, is it?” he huffed. “I think not. Your place lies at your husband’s side now, my girl.”

Eden gasped. “He will not – neither of us want that uncle!” she protested. “We have gone through with the formalities for decency’s sake, but should now surely be permitted to go our separate ways.”

Sir Leofric drew himself up to his tallest height. “I had not realized,” he said coldly. “That it was your place to decide what is considered decent behavior under my roof.”

Eden felt her cheeks flame. “I apologize uncle, I did not mean-”

He waved a hand, angrily brushing aside her words. Eden swallowed a lump in her throat, seeing the Vawdrey party approaching. Roland was walking between his two brothers. They did not pause when they drew level, but simply carried on making their way out of the church.

“You’d best run after him, my girl,” her uncle told her.

“Please uncle,” Eden begged. “Don’t make me do that.”

“He intends to leave us within the hour.”

“Good!” she burst out angrily. “I would happily never set eyes on him again!”

“Ungrateful girl!” her Uncle scolded. “Is this the thanks I get for pleading your cause with Lord Vawdrey?”

Eden caught her breath. “I- no. What do you mean?”

“Do you imagine he was ecstatic, to see his brother palmed off with the poor relation, rather than the daughter of the house?” he asked harshly.

Eden felt her mouth tremble. “No,” she whispered, and lowered her gaze.

“Or perhaps you think I was happy, to rob my own child of her prospective bridegroom, and give him to the cuckoo in our nest?”

Eden’s eyes flew to meet her uncle’s. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. She felt herself turn light-headed.

“Run after him, now!” her Uncle thundered at her. “If my Lenora forgives you for supplanting her, we will send your possessions on to follow you. You will take no horse, nor stitch of clothing with you now, save for that you wear on your back.”

Unable to look anymore upon his unyielding expression, Eden grabbed up her skirts and ran from the dark chapel into the light.

**

“I think it would be expedient,” mused Oswald in that infuriatingly calm manner of his. “If we Vawdreys made ourselves scarce.”

“Suits me,” grunted Mason. “Damned awkward business, all said.”

Roland shook his head to clear it, and took a few gulps of fresh air. His lucidity came and went in the oddest manner.

“He looks fit to drop,” Mason observed critically.

“I am here,” Roland complained irritably, focusing on his brothers faces with an effort.

“Of course you are,” agreed Oswald who was a smooth-faced bastard at the best of times. “What say you, brother to leaving now? We can do no more here this day. Indeed, our tarrying would probably only prove problematic to the Montmaynes.”

“You mean after Roland seduced the bride’s cousin?” put in Mason sarcastically. “Funny that.”

Oswald gave a sad sigh. “What’s done is done, brother.”

Roland scowled at Mason. “If it comes to unscrupulous bridegrooms then you’re not one talk!” After all, it was well known that Mason’s wife was betrothed to him originally.

Mason snorted. “You’ve swaying on your feet,” he pointed out.

“Now, now,” said Oswald hastily, “Let us not fall out amongst ourselves…”

“And neither are you!” added Roland, pointing a finger at his oldest brother, though for a minute Oswald seemed blurred and he had to move his finger to track him. “Stop moving, damn you,” he murmured. He couldn’t remember at this precise moment, what Oswald had done to trick sweet Fenella into wedlock, but he remembered it was dastardly!