Page 42 of An Ill-Made Match

Eden tsked under her breath as he steered Bavol into the inn courtyard toward the stable. “I should like to see it,” she announced as Cuthbert reached up for her and Roland suffered her to dismount. “Shall I have time in the morning, before we depart?” Roland rolled his eyes, and started to climb stiffly off his horse.

Cuthbert cast a quick glance at him, before answering. “We’ve half a day’s ride still tomorrow, and will likely leave at day break.”

“Well, what about if I went now?” she asked, glancing out of the stable door at the failing light.

“It’s getting dark,” said Roland shortly. “I need a meal, a bath and bed.” Then, he heard himself add, “It’s not far from Vawdrey Keep, I can take you another day.”

Eden looked as surprised as he. “Thank you.”

He shrugged, which immediately pained him. He fancied both she and Cuthbert noticed his discomfort, for they seized on their packs and started carrying it toward the timbered main house.

Soon, they were soon settled in a comfortable chamber, and a full table provided of cheeses, roast meats and wine. After seeing to the horses, Cuthbert ate with them, which seemed to surprise Eden, though she made no comment. A bath was then brought up for their use and they bathed one after the other. Neither one of them spoke until they were lying side by side in their bed. Roland’s eyes were just drifting shut when Eden surprised him, by starting a conversation.

“I saw Cuthbert just now, out of the window,” she said. “He was illuminated by one of the lamps in the courtyard.” She paused. “It looked like he was making off into the town.”

Roland grunted. “Very likely he is, young villain.”

“Are you not concerned by him going out unattended?” she asked in surprise. “After all, he is so very young.”

“He is fifteen, or thereabouts,” he corrected her. “Besides, he is not gently-reared and has plenty about him.”

He heard her pillow rustle, and guessed she had turned to face him. “I had wondered as to his position,” she said. “I mean, he seems very closely affiliated to your family. The way you treat him…” she hesitated.

“Wondering if he’s a by-blow?” Roland asked her bluntly. “If he is, then he would be a Cadwallader. He was raised as Linnet’s page on her family estate.”

Eden was silent, and he squinted across at her, though he could make out only her outline. “Are not squires usually from noble families?” she asked at last.

“Yes,” Roland agreed. He hadn’t ever really given any thought about Cuthbert’s elevation. “He is my sister-in-law’s favorite.”

“I suppose Linnet would know his parentage.”

“Doubtful,” snorted Roland. “Linnet had an extremely sheltered upbringing. His old granny is the local witch. I don’t recall anyone ever mentioning his father.”

Eden was quiet, and still for a while. Instead of falling thankfully asleep like a sane person, he found himself lying awake. “Shall I blow out the candle?” she asked eventually.

“Aye.” Still, he did not close his eyes. “What of yours?” he found himself asking gruffly instead.

“Mine?” Eden sounded startled in the dark.

“Parentage.”

“Oh,” she shifted on the mattress, before starting, briskly. “Well, as you know, my uncle Leofric is the head of our family. My father was his youngest brother, Godwin. He died very young.”

Roland waited, but it seemed nothing else was forthcoming. “He was sickly?” he ventured.

“No not sickly, no,” she said stiffly. “Just… full of vices.”

“Vices?” Now it was his turn to be startled.

“Drinking, gambling, women,” Eden continued with clear reluctance. “My mother was very unhappy in their marriage, by all accounts. She did not outlive him by many years.”

Roland digested this surprising news. “Do you remember them?”

“Not really. My mother, a little.”

“So, you were raised by your uncle, then?”

“Yes.”