Page 16 of An Ill-Made Match

“There’s bound to be a lot of talk,” he conceded. “However our families try to suppress it.”

Eden thought of court gossip and felt her stomach lurch. “Precisely.” She pursed her lips. “Did your brother tell you exactly how he intended to break the news to the King?” she asked wretchedly. “Only I wasn’t able to give him my full attention when he mentioned it earlier.”

“Well no, you were asleep in my lap,” Roland pointed out.

Eden glanced at him with annoyance. Manners were completely squandered on Sir Roland. Then another thought occurred to her. “Don’t you think that’s a little odd,” she said with a frown. “How we’re both unable to recall the events of last night?”

“Well you at least remembered something,” he said sounding resentful.

“Yes, but… nothing substantial. Like how we ended up-”

“In bed together?”

“That predicament,” Eden persisted doggedly. “I mean, it’s so unfathomable!” Her thoughts shied away from her suspicions of sleep-walking into his bed. The idea it could all be her fault made her feel profoundly unwell. Oh gods, he had said she was wriggling around her sleep…

Roland snorted. “It’s not that unusual,” he objected.

“To you maybe!” Eden wheezed. “What lady would be fool enough to sacrifice her good name for… for…” words failed her, as she faced up to the fact this was all her fault.

“A quick tumble?” he suggested. She broke out in a cold sweat. “Eden?” Roland swore and disappeared a moment, when he reappeared, he shoved a basin at her chest.

She pushed it away. “I’m not going to be sick,” she uttered faintly, and lifted her head to stare at him, as the horrifying realization set in that he was probably far more of a victim in all this than she was. Should she confess her deepest fears that she was likely to blame?

“You’re sure?” Roland asked her doubtfully. “You look sick as a dog.”

Eden folded back against the pillows, exhausted by her own bitter self-recriminations. She nodded her head distractedly.

“Why are you staring like that?” Roland asked her, as he replaced the basin on the stand. “Like you’ve seen a ghost. I’m flesh and blood, I assure you.”

And muscle, thought Eden gazing at him despairingly. Lots and lots of muscle. She wished he’d put some clothes back on. “I suppose it’s just starting to sink in,” she said, feeling oddly disconnected from events. “That we’re well and truly… married.” She whispered the offending word as if it was a profanity.

Roland shot her a quizzical look. “Not the fastest on your feet, are you?” he asked, sliding back into the bed, but mercifully sticking to his own side.

Eden lay brooding over this. “Are you saying you’ve adjusted already?” she asked a little testily. She found that quite difficult to believe somehow.

“Men are better at reacting to circumstances,” he boasted with an arrogance that came near to banishing Eden’s nagging guilt. “And you’re the one who said it need not change things overmuch,” he reminded her. “Anyway, what’s the point in lamenting over it? What’s done is done.”

And then she was back to feeling guilty again. He really was facing up to this with a lot more equanimity than she would have done if she was the injured party. Of course, that would all change if he knew she was the cause of their disgrace and downfall.

“Go back to sleep,” he told her with a yawn. “There’s about five hours till dawn. We’ll decide what course of action to take then.”

“Very well,” she murmured, closing her eyes. Strange to say, she thought she probably would sleep now. Not that awful dark sleep that engulfed and dragged you under like a frightening wave. But a more refreshing, natural sleep this time. She would feel better in the morning, she told herself. And more able to cope with this awful turn of events. After all, she could hardly feel any less.

**

Roland awoke to the sensation of sunlight on his face. The birds were singing outside the window, and he was feeling languorous and well rested. For once, he wasn’t a mass of aching limbs and muscles. Slowly, he became conscious of a warm body tucked into his side. A warm body that curled into his, in slumber. His eyes flickered open and he gazed down at the dark head resting on his stomach. Eden was a cuddler. He had no idea why that amused him so much. Maybe because her personality was so prickly and aloof. One of her arms was wrapped around his hip. He could feel her breath against his belly button. It was strangely stimulating. That could be an issue, he thought, feeling a stirring in his loins. No doubt his bride would not appreciate such a rude awakening as his hard cock in her face. More’s the pity. He sighed, trying to get his rampaging urges under control. At least there would be no breaking down of doors this morning, he thought, remembering the previous with a frown. That day too had started this same delightful way, to him waking with a sleepy Eden on top of him. She had not been so frosty when she first awoke, as he recalled. At least, she had not recoiled from him until their kinsmen had appeared in the doorway, blustering and posturing. He lay contemplating the fact, when suddenly she lifted her head and gazed blearily up at him.

He cleared his throat. “Morning.”

Eden dropped her head, then seemed to realize what her pillow comprised of. His body. She drew back in alarm and blinked at him.

“Remember?” he prompted her confused face.

To his irritation, she rolled over, showing her back to him. Well, good morning to you too! After a moment’s pause, she craned her head back at him over her shoulder.

“Still here,” he said wryly.

At that, she huffed out a breath and sat up. Roland let his eyes wander over her disheveled state. She looked good all mussed up. Frankly, he wouldn’t mind being the cause of such disarray. She rubbed her eyes and swung her legs over the side of the mattress.