Page 31 of An Ill-Made Match

Lady Muriel’s eyes flew wide with alarm. “Oh! Well…“

“I’m afraid my wife expressed herself ill,” interjected Sir Christopher hastily. “She is very fond of the Payne family. Is that not so, my dear? Indeed, you and Gunnilde Payne were like sisters growing up by all accounts.”

“Yes, oh yes!” agreed Muriel. “Quite like sisters!”

“I find that an extraordinary statement,” said Eden. “In light of the manner in which you greeted her not three hours ago.”

Muriel Lelland’s face was scarlet. She opened and closed her mouth without managing to utter a single word.

Roland glanced warily from Eden to Sir Christopher. He had not the faintest notion what was going on, but it seemed this Muriel woman had somehow managed to offend Eden. And it appeared his wife was not the forgiving type.

“Could you possibly intercede for us, Sir Roland?” asked Sir Christopher, wincing. “I’m afraid my wife’s behavior has caused yours much offence.”

It was on the tip of Roland’s tongue to ask what the devil he was expected to do about it, but he managed to squash the ignoble impulse. After all, he was a husband now, so he supposed these sorts of things were bound to occur. Sort of like owning a hound and it attacking someone else’s. “Maybe yours should apologize?” he hazarded, stretching out his legs before him.

“She already did,” Eden pointed out. “But I am a great subscriber to the notion that actions speak louder than words. Lady Muriel’s future behavior toward my friend shall determine whether I accept her apology or no.” A silence greeted her words. Roland found himself uneasily hoping he did not incur his wife’s stiff-necked wrath anytime soon. She was making it damned hard for the wretched woman. It didn’t help matters that he was entirely confused as to who this friend was that Eden referred to. Was there someone else here from court then? “Ah, here come our hosts now,” said Eden mildly. “And your opportunity to redeem yourself, Lady Muriel.”

Roland looked up to see Sir Aubron approaching with his family party. Sir Aubron was nodding and smiling and waving at everyone as they took their seats in the center of the front row. Muriel Lelland stood in frozen indecision for a moment, and then walked forward jerkily toward the plump blonde on the outskirts of the group. Roland vaguely remembered her from earlier. He cast a questioning look at Eden, but she was watching with her lips pressed firmly together.

The two young women seemed to be in earnest conversation. Suddenly Muriel put her hands to her face and seemed to be dissolving into tears. The shorter girl crowded in sympathetically and soon had an arm around her, patting her back.

“There, there,” said Sir Christopher awkwardly. “All seems well between them, in any event. Would you not say so?” he cast an anxious look in Eden’s direction.

Eden stuck her nose in the air. She was not so easily mollified.

“Aye, all seems to have worked itself out,” Roland found himself agreeing, catching the gleam of desperation in Sir Christopher’s eye.

“Excellent, excellent,” murmured Sir Christopher, rubbing his hands together. “I felt sure it would be so.”

“I believe,” said Eden after a moment’s pause. “That there was an understanding between the Conways and the Paynes as to Sir Arthur and Gunnilde eventually marrying. Have you ever heard anything of that nature, Sir Christopher?” she asked, bestowing her first agreeable smile on him.

Sir Christopher blinked and Roland found himself frowning. Why the hells was she giving him her smiles now?

“I – er – that is, no I had not, Lady Eden.”

“Perhaps you have not yet had the chance to accustom yourself with your brother-in-law’s affairs,” she said kindly, but with a trace of reproach that made Sir Christopher wince.

“It’s true I have not as yet, as you say, Lady Eden.”

She inclined her head graciously, and Roland found himself thinking that his wife would likely grow into one of those very stern matrons that struck fear into the hearts of men. For some gods-forsaken reason, that did not seem to put him off one damned bit. He must have rocks in his head!

“I will just go and ask my wife to introduce me to the Lady Gunnilde,” said Sir Christopher, earning another smile from Eden. It was an approving one this time.

“How long have you known these people?” he asked a little testily as he watched Sir Christopher hurry over to his wife and Gunnilde Payne.

“The Paynes?” she sounded surprised by his question. “Only since my introduction today.”

“Then how the devil do you know all about their betrothal arrangements and such?” he demanded belligerently.

“Well, naturally Gunnilde and I had some conversation while we were waiting for you to enter the field.”

“Mmm.” For some reason he was put out. He had a vague notion it was because she had smiled twice at Sir Christopher and not once at him. But that was damn ridiculous. What did he care for Eden Monmayne’s smiles? He stretched out on the bench. Mayhap it was because she was Eden Vawdrey now, and they belonged to him, he thought moodily as he mulled it over.

The sound of horse hooves and a dull thud, roused him from his thoughts to the realization that the first challenge had been issued. Sir Jeoffrey’s shield was rocking from the lance buffet it had received. A cheer went up from the crowd.

“Oh dear,” said Eden. “Is that not poor Sir Renlowe again?” She turned to Roland. “But I thought he had been taken hostage after the melee.”

Roland shifted uneasily in his seat. “Someone must have paid his ransom already.” Damn.