Page 44 of An Ill-Made Match

Remembering Eden’s words about her father’s gambling, Roland cast a wary look her way, but she was still stroking the material. As if aware of eyes on her, she looked up. “Cuthbert you really shouldn’t have-”

“It’s a bride-gift,” Cuthbert said, and waved a hand dismissively. “Tell her,” he said looking at Roland. “While I fetch you more dishes.” He was already out of his seat when Roland nodded at Eden.

“As you observed last night, Cuthbert is practically one of the family. Besides, you’ll need a cloak to approach the Keep.” She looked up in surprise. The sky was blue and the already the sun was breaking through the clouds. “Our lands lie in dense forest,” he added, pushing away his plate. “There’s usually a nip in the air, even when the sun shines.”

**

They set off immediately after breaking their fast. Eden was relieved to see that Christobel showed no sign of lameness and Roland’s ribs seemed a little easier, even though they had looked horribly bruised in the glimpse she’d caught that morning. She didn’t ask again, as he seemed irritable about admitting any weakness. Maybe that was a male thing, although her own uncle frequently complained about his gouty foot. They had soon left the bustle of Pryors Naunton far behind them, traveling down country lanes and over fields, until they seemed to be entering into a wood, populated with huge oak trees. Roland turned in his saddle. “This is Ryder’s Oaks and marks the outer boundary of our lands.”

Eden nodded, raising a hand to shield her eyes as she peered up to the tops of the trees. “These oaks must be hundreds of years old,” she ventured.

“At least,” Roland agreed. “My Father said in his boyhood, the country folk still used to tie charms and prayer ribbons to the lower branches. A leftover from olden days.”

“This was a sacred place?”

“So they say.”

“Still is,” said Cuthbert. “Look.” He pointed to a silver bell that gave a faint chime as if on cue, as the breeze ruffled through the branch it hung from.

“That’s probably been there for years,” scoffed Roland.

“What difference does that make?” asked Cuthbert with a shrug. “Trees mark time different to people.”

Eden glanced at him curiously, remembering Roland’s words about his granny being a wise woman. “Do we pass through the village to reach Vawdrey Keep?”

“No, the village is that way, about five miles,” Roland told her, pointing westerly. All Eden could see was trees.

“The village of Sitchmarsh?” she asked. Roland shot her a surprised look. “You seem to forget, that Fenella is a good friend of mine,” she explained, naming another of his sister-in-laws. “She is from this area, is she not?”

“Oh aye,” he said, his frown clearing. “Sitchmarsh Hall, her brother’s place is the other side of the village.”

“Walking distance?” she asked.

Roland gave a brief laugh. “Fenella would likely say so, but she’s country-bred.”

“Unlike me?”

“A fine court lady like yourself would likely go on horseback,” Roland retorted.

“Fenella is a countess,” Eden reminded him.

“She is now,” he agreed. “But she’s ill at ease at Court. Unlike yourself.”

“And I was raised at Hallam Hall, not Caer-Lyoness.”

He ignored this but for some reason, Eden was not content to let him lapse into silence. “Are you acquainted with Fenella’s brother?”

“Gil Bernard?” grunted Roland after a moment’s pause. “He’s years older than me.”

“You know him though?” she persisted.

“By sight,” he admitted cautiously.

“And has he not now married Fenella’s previous sister-in-law?”

He shot her a look of exasperation. “What?”

“Fenella’s former sister-in-law married her brother – I remember her telling me.”