Page 14 of An Ill-Made Match

“Very good milord,” the landlord said, drawing a large key from his apron.

“Excellent.”

They trooped up the stairs, Roland practically hauling Eden at this point, and though the slight wench should have been light as air, she felt to Roland like a sack of grain at this point. Mason carried in his belongings, and Oswald swiftly unpacked for him as Roland set Eden down on the edge of the mattress. She looked a little green around the gills. It crossed his mind that she might imagine he was going to demand his conjugal rights, but nothing could be further from the truth at this point. He would be as harmless as a kitten in the bed beside her!

A chambermaid knocked on the door, and entered with a jug of water and a basin for washing. She left and another maid appeared with a trencher of bread and cheese which she set on the side, and then departed.

“Now,” said Oswald. “Let me hear you turn the key in the lock behind us,” he said, inserting it into the door. “This seems a respectable establishment, but you can be none too careful.”

Roland moved to the door and placed his forehead against it, as Mason and Oswald walked out onto the landing.

“I have left you directions on the side,” said Oswald nodding to a dresser by the window. Roland glanced at it in surprise. When the hells had his brother had time to write him a missive? “Don’t bother trying to read it now, you need to sleep. Twelve hours should do it. Maybe a little longer,” he added with a shrewd glance at Roland’s face.

Roland shrugged tiredly. He knew Oswald had always suffered after imbibing, but that seemed a little precise even for him. He yawned.

“Oh and congratulations,” said Oswald, squeezing his upper arm.

“Get some sleep,” recommended Mason, with a nod.

Their footsteps didn’t move away, until he’d closed the door and turned the key, locking them in. When he turned back, Eden was already curled up on the bed, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes closed. Was she cold? He couldn’t even muster the energy to undress, but instead flung himself down on the bed beside her, as sleep closed in and everything turned mercifully dark.

**

Eden woke suddenly, in the midst of a bad dream where she had been falling from a great height. Her heart was racing and her mouth dry. She lay blinking a moment as her senses returned. Everything seemed in confusion. As her eyes accustomed to the darkness, she realized the shadowy room was laid out all wrong. She could make out the great chest and the small table, but they were in the wrong place and where was the cupboard by the door? Feeling the breath of a companion on the back of her neck, she realized she must be sharing a room, with her cousin maybe? Of course, she was back at Hallam Hall! Then the body at her back shifted and muttered a smothered oath. The whole bed creaked. That was not her dainty cousin. The moon at the window slipped out from behind a cloud, and she saw the illuminated room in all its simplicity. Unpleasant memories crowded into her brain and with a feeling of dread, she turned her head and gazed on the sleeping face of Roland Vawdrey. Her husband. She felt nauseous. It hadn’t been a bad dream after all.

Panicked, she started to inch her way off the mattress, only to find a brawny arm anchoring her to his side. His arm was wrapped her waist! Eden felt herself break into a sweat. It took every effort not to lose her composure altogether, as she levered his heavy arm off her. He muttered again in his sleep, and she held her breath. When he rolled onto his back, she slipped off the bed and crouched on her knees beside it until he quieted. Then she creeped over to the washstand and poured a trickle of water into the bowl, enough to wash her hands and face. The cool water felt good against her fevered brow. Her gown was all twisted and uncomfortable. It wasn’t meant for sleeping in, she thought ruefully, as she unlaced the front and then her wrists to facilitate washing. The moon was still high in the sky, she realized, glancing from the window. It would not yet be time to rise for several hours. She hesitated, biting her lip. Should she take it off? She glanced over at the bed. Roland Vawdrey was lying still, the rise and fall of his chest steady. He had one arm bent now and draped over his face. He would likely continue oblivious if she stripped down to her shift, and she would be a lot more comfortable. Making a swift decision, she loosened her laces further, until she could maneuver the dress up and over her body. With economical movements, she wriggled out of her gown, until she could drape it over a chair and then removed her stockings and add them to the pile. Returning to the bowl of water, she added some more and then washed her neck and armpits. Cloths had been left out for their use, though there were no soap leaves. She could find no comb on the shadowy dresser, so instead she quickly tidied her hair into one long braid over her shoulder. Then she turned back to gaze at the bed. Could she climb back in without disturbing its sleeping occupant? Apparently she hesitated too long.

“Come back to bed, for lord’s sake,” Roland grumbled. “If you need to take a piss, the pot’s likely under the bed.”

Eden stiffened. Did he imagine her some chambermaid to speak to her thusly?

When she didn’t move, he rose onto one elbow to scrutinize her. “Eden?”

“I thought you were asleep,” she blurted.

“Hardly,” he said. “You wriggle around in your sleep, like a worm on a hook.”

Eden felt her face redden. “I was having a nightmare,” she told him coldly. Would she have walked again if he had not anchored her? The thought made her break out in a sweat.

He made no reply, and the moon drifted behind a cloud again, plunging the room into darkness.

“You’ll take a chill,” he said gruffly. “Get under the covers.” He rolled onto his side, turning his back to her.

Eden approached the bed with reluctance. “Separate chambers would have been nice,” she muttered, as she slid under the sheets.

He snorted. “Bit late for that.”

“It’s never too late for niceties,” she corrected him, folding her arms around her waist. She lay still, staring up at the shadowy ceiling. Now they had spoken, she had a terrible fear she would not find sleep again.

He rolled onto his back, and Eden shrank back from the physical contact in alarm.

“Well, if you’re feeling so inclined,” he said. “I wouldn’t deny you.”

Eden stared at him, unable to make out his features. “What do you mean?”

“We are married,” he reminded her. “And you spoke of niceties,” he let his words sink in, as he patted the mattress. “We’re in the marriage bed…”

Eden breathed in a sharp breath. “That is not what I meant! And you know it!”