Page 53 of An Ill-Made Match

“Nothing,” he admitted. “Save sit there, eating daintily. You’re likely the prettiest thing he’s seen in a twelvemonth.”

Eden raised her goblet to hide her discomfiture with this kind of talk. Was he trying to flatter her? “I doubt it,” she said without thinking. “I don’t think he has been as starved of female company as you suppose.”

“What?” His brows knitted together in a frown.

“At one point, before he decided I was otherworldly in origin, Baxter thought I might have been ‘one of Fulco’s slatterns’,” she admitted.

Roland went off into a coughing fit. Eden was just wondering if she might need to thump him on the back, when the others returned with a dish of roasted birds stuffed with garlic, grapes and herbs. Roland poured himself another cup of ale and pulled himself together, although his eyes were still watering.

Fulco excused himself before the final course, no doubt cowed by Roland’s beady eye on him, putting him off his food. Eden fancied the dogs received quite a lot of the meat, for all four of them crept closer as the meal progressed. She wondered at one point, if she was the only one not feeding them.

Only Cuthbert seemed to enjoy the dessert, which was baked eggs with apple in a pastry shell. Eden ate a mouthful to satisfy Baxter’s absurd superstitions, and Roland pushed his around his plate a while before shoving it away from him. “Shall we?” he asked, standing abruptly as Cuthbert finally dropped his spoon, having consumed his third bowlful. Eden rose, and took the hand he offered, to find herself led the through the door into the adjoining sitting room where a fire blazed in the huge hearth.

This room had also been dusted and cleaned, and the remaining two dogs dozed there by the hearth, including her old friend Parnell who rolled over onto his stomach and barked in greeting. She nodded in response, and looked about her. It was still a rather bleak and uninviting room in all. It needed curtains and wall hangings and cushions, thought Eden. In reds or blues to complement all the dark wood interior. Roland halted and looked around, seeming to deliberate which of the chairs looked the most comfortable. Eden eyed them doubtfully. They all looked equally uninviting. Apparently he came to the same conclusion, for he simply hooked his foot around the nearest and dragged it toward the fire. Then he dropped into it, with Eden sat squarely in his lap. She ought to protest, of course, but what was the point? Instead she looked sidelong at Roland, who was looking back steadily at her. “Yes, wicked faery?”” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Something to say?”

Eden tilted her head to one side, and steeled herself. “Perhaps there are some matters we ought to discuss,” she said gravely. “Now we are no longer on the road.”

Roland stirred uneasily beneath her. “Such as?”

Even before she spoke, he could tell he would not like her chosen topic of conversation. Damn the woman. Could she not pick up on his mood? Now she was safely under his roof, all he wanted to do was cosset her. It was a strange impulse, which threw him a little in truth. Never before had he had such an inclination toward a woman. He wanted her to like his home. Their home. Her opinion of Vawdrey Keep, whose superiority to all other places had always been a matter of fact to him, strangely counted. She was accustomed to court life, and all its attendant luxuries, and Hallam Hall which was a country residence, not a harsh fortress. He wanted to know what things he had to add to the Keep, to make it acceptable to her as her new home. But he could tell from her expression that it wasn’t about home comforts that she wanted to speak now. He sighed. “Let’s hear it then.” Eden rose from his lap, and re-settled herself into the chair directly opposite him. He suffered this, although it irritated him.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that we’ve never actually discussed what must have happened that night?” she asked, turning to him, her expression serious.

Oh gods. Why now? Roland spread his hands wide. “What’s done is done. I see no point in crying over spilt milk.”

“Spilt milk?” repeated Eden, her expression so blank that Roland immediately cast about for a turn of phrase she’d find more palatable. “Things didn’t turn out as intended,” he said carefully. “But what’s the point in cutting up rough about it after the deed is done?” A heavy silence greeted his words, and he rolled his eyes. “Quite frankly, I have no desire to discuss it now,” he said bluntly. “What would be the purpose?”

“To clear the air perhaps?” she suggested gravely. “To try and promote some kind of understanding between us at this point.” She paused heavily. “It seems to me, that we are poised at a critical juncture. Would it not be best to clear up any confusion now?”

Roland snorted. “I’m not laboring under any misunderstanding,” he said dismissively.

Eden took a deep breath. “Really? What about the fact we clearly had not engaged in any… pre-marital relations?” she asked with a directness that took him aback. “Despite what everyone assumed. Ourselves included.” When he continued silent, she fixed him with a stern look. “You know as well as I, that I was still a virgin that night at Tranton Vale. Yet we’ve never discussed it.”

Roland felt his face grow hot. “What of it?” he demanded.

“So clearly, we were innocent of any wrong-doing that night at Hallam Hall!” she cried, losing her calm.

Roland stiffened. “I was drunk,” he said bluntly. “I may not have breached your virginity, but we could still have done other things.”

“What?” Eden looked startled.

“We were both naked,” he pointed out. “When I woke up, my hands were all over you-”

“I know that!” Eden interrupted him. “But still, we had not gone beyond the bounds of decency!” her face flamed.

“Of course, we had Eden!” he replied scathingly. “You may have been intact, but we had slept in a naked embrace that was far from innocent on my behalf. Or had you forgotten my state when your uncle interrupted us?” he gestured to his crotch.

Eden glared at him. “Why must you always be so crude?” she huffed. “Do you really mean to tell me, that you have no curiosity about how we ended up in such a predicament in the first place?”

He shot her an incredulous look. “Eden,” he said with exasperation. “Let’s just drop the pretense, for once and all.”

“What pretense?”

“That you were as injured a party as I.” She went so still, he thought she must be holding her breath. Uneasily, he added, “I know full well the scheme would not have been of your devising.”

Her eyes flickered to his face. “Scheme?” she repeated hollowly.

He nodded, strangely reluctant to continue. “Aye.”