Page 54 of An Ill-Made Match

“Pray say what you mean, Sir Roland,” she said so formally, that he felt slightly alarmed.

“Why do I need to say it?” he asked. “It’s obvious enough.”

She shook her head. “Not to me.”

He sighed. “It was my bedchamber we woke up in, Eden.”

“Yes,” she said, two hot spots of color appearing in her cheeks.

“And so…?” he prompted. He waited, until the penny dropped. He did not have to wait long.

She drew in a shuddering breath. “You’re saying… You think… that I snuck along the corridor and let myself into your bedchamber. And then, while you were insensible, that I slipped under your covers. To entrap you.” She slumped in her seat a moment breathless and glassy-eyed. He said nothing. “But if not of my devising…?” she began hesitantly. “Then who is it you imagine was behind such a scheme?”

“Your uncle of course,” he answered brusquely. “Probably thought a younger son wasn’t good enough for his only daughter.”

She stared hard at that. “But an unwanted niece was? You really have thought this through,” she marveled. “Down to the last detail.” Her lip trembled, and she bit down on it. “When?” She asked harshly, making him jump. “When did you decide I was complicit?”

“Eden…”

“Before we consummated our marriage?” She asked. “Before you wore my colors on your arm at Sir Aubron’s tournament?”

“Eden…”

“No!” she said in a choked voice. “You wore my brooch, introduced me to your friends… You made me think… You pretended that you liked me. But all the time, you thought… you thought…”

“Eden!” he started out of his chair toward her, but she jumped to her feet and ran to the door, wrenching it open.

“If you come near me, right now,” she said shakily. “I will hate you forever.” He halted, seeing she was trembling all over and pale as chalk.

Something turned over in his chest. “Don’t go near those steps!” he warned. “Not in that state.”

“Don’t come near me, Roland Vawdrey,” she shook her head for emphasis. “I need you to leave me alone.” Tears were rolling down her cheeks now.

For some reason, the sight of her tears incapacitated Roland. He felt like he couldn’t gather his wits. Where the fuck had this storm blown up out of nowhere? All was well with his world, just a short while ago! She had been sat in his lap as meek as a lamb. He was reeling. “I can’t,” he said with utter truthfulness, and was out of his seat and at her side before she’d managed to even take another step. “Eden-”

She shoved at his chest with both her hands, trying to push him away from her. “No!” she said in an anguished voice.

“I won’t touch you,” he promised. “Just let me accompany you upstairs.”

She fell back at that. “I want to sleep in a different room to you,” she said woodenly.

“Too bad,” he said harshly. “That’s a step too far.”

“I won’t share a bed with someone who thinks I’m a thief!”

“A thief?” he echoed in bewilderment. “Who the hells ever called you a thief? Not I.”

Eden shook her head angrily. “You think I willfully stole you from Lenora!”

He gave a crack of laughter at that, and all color leeched from her face. “Eden,” he said bending down so his face was close to hers. “I was never Lenora’s. And for all I know, she could have been in league with the plot. What do I know of her wishes?” Eden’s chest heaved indignantly, and she stared at him. “Besides, you’re not bedding down anywhere else,” he told her arrogantly. “I’m not complaining about you being in my bed, so why the hells should you?” Her expression went from devastated to outraged in a second. He must be losing his mind, because for some reason he could not fathom, that was a relief to him. “Now, let’s to bed.”

Why the hells, he thought crossly as he rolled over in the bed, dutifully turning his back to wife, had he thought he could speak frankly with a woman? He should have known better. They didn’t like plain speech. Eden certainly didn’t, with her airs and her graces and her sheer bloody-mindedness. He listened carefully to her ragged breathing. Was she still crying?

She’d even managed to twist things around so that she was the injured party, he thought with disbelief! Alright, so she was probably mortified that he knew she had climbed into his bed that night. But he had never complained about the substitution of bride, so why did they need to dwell on it now? After all, he was the one who had the wool pulled over his eyes. He was the one who had fallen prey to her uncle’s subterfuge. Had one word of reproach passed his lips? No! Even during their dispute just now, he had no desire to reproach or scold her for her part in the deception. Instead he had given her an excuse, intimated that she had just been a pawn in her uncle’s ambitions, much like him. She was Sir Leofric’s ward and dependent on his goodwill. Roland’s jaw tensed. For some reason, he didn’t like to think of Eden being at the mercy of her uncle’s schemes. And he certainly didn’t like to remember that she had been sent from her childhood home with only the clothes on her back.

What had she called herself just now? An unwanted niece? He felt slightly sick remembering those words. But there had been worse. Her face, when she cried ‘You pretended that you liked me.’ Remembering that, made him catch his breath. Why the fuck had she looked so hurt when she said that? He forced himself to go back over her words in the dark. She’d extinguished the candle as soon as she’d climbed into the box bed and it was pitch black in there now. It had been the thought that he had worn her token, had shown her off to his friends and bedded her, all the while thinking she was a deceiver which had cut her to the quick. But he didn’t even care about the deception!

He swore under his breath. Why was she making so much of it? Pride, stiff-necked pride, he told himself angrily. Her damn reputation. But deep down, he knew that more than her pride had been hurt by him bringing the whole mess out into the open. Hells. He half-wished he’d just played along and just lied. Yes, it is very odd how we neither of us have any recollection of how you ended up in my bed, sweetheart. Ah well, tis doubtful we’ll ever get to the bottom of the business now! It was contemptible to lie, just to please a woman, and such an idea would never even have entered his head before today. But perhaps if he had lied, he’d be lying in her embrace right now, and any tears she would be shedding would be of ecstasy, not misery. He tugged at his pillow, unable to get comfortable. The thought of her crying silently beside him was an oddly disturbing one. He almost turned over, to pull her into his arms, when he remembered, ‘if you come near me, right now, I will hate you forever’, and stopped dead in his tracks. That was more than disturbing. That was simply something that could not be allowed to happen. Ever. He closed his eyes again briefly and consigned himself to a night of broken, uneasy sleep.