Page 78 of An Ill-Made Match

“Oh yes,” said Lenora. “But not for me. For Eden.” Her words caused a scandal among the assembled courtiers. Lenora waited patiently for the noise to die down. “I offered my cousin the lend of my new silk gown and my pearls for the occasion.” She turned her head and looked directly at Eden. “Is that not so, Eden? And my jewel encrusted toque.”

Eden nodded feebly. She did not feel up to mentioning that the toque had been filled with kittens at the time.

“But how sweet of you!” exclaimed the Queen indulgently. “You must be very fond of your cousin I think.”

“Oh yes,” said Lenora, turning her guileless eyes back to Eden. “She is like my sister, really. Although my Father never treated us as equals, that is how I have always regarded her.”

“You were not raised as equals?” the Queen asked, sounding surprised at the turn Lenora’s testimony had taken.

“Oh no,” said Lenora. “Otherwise, she would have had her own pearls and silk gown, would she not?”

“Quite,” murmured the Queen. Then seemed to give herself a little shake. “So, you would have us believe that Eden’s ensuing marriage with the King’s Champion, is not a matter of enmity between the two of you at all?” asked the Queen.

“Oh no,” said Lenora mildly. “Why should it be?”

Eden felt her palms clammy and wiped them on her borrowed skirts. She felt suddenly dizzy and disorientated. Could Lenora really believe that? About Eden still being like a sister to her? And that she had not usurped her place as wife to Roland? She looked so… so imperturbable and sedate, it was hard to believe she was not wholly in earnest.

A sudden hush fell over proceedings and Eden turned to find that Oswald Vawdrey had stood up from his seat.

“Earl Vawdrey?” said the Queen, turning to look at him. “You have something pertinent to contribute at this point?”

He smiled a wintry smile. “As to that, I hardly know. But it was I that approached Sir Leofric regarding the betrothal arrangements in the first place,” he said, and then smothered a yawn. “I beg your pardon, your grace. I am but recently a father… ”

A smatter of laughter broke out from the onlookers.

The Queen’s smile turned a little brittle. “But of course,” she said, and Eden wondered if the Queen did not appreciate sharing the spotlight with a player of his magnitude. There was a sort of assured style and grace about Oswald Vawdrey, which only very few possessed. He was tall and lean and dressed all in midnight black. You could almost overlook his self-possession, if you did not know any better. Eden had a feeling it was woe betide you, if you did. His keen eyes roamed now over the key players and when they fell on her, his head tipped to one side, and he looked speculative.

“Well, if you would be so good as to share your information with us now, Lord Vawdrey,” the Queen prompted him, sounding a little impatient. Eden knew there was no love lost between the two of them, which was mostly due to politics.

Oswald made his way unhurriedly to the front of the hall, and Lenora returned to Lady Dorothea who now wore a look of frozen outrage. Lenora did not look even remotely fazed as she sat down beside her.

When Oswald spoke, his voice was surprisingly full-volumed. “My brother Roland asked me as head of our house, to approach Sir Leofric Montmayne with a view to discussing the proposed marriage approximately two months ago. It was some couple of weeks before our paths crossed, and we were able to discuss terms regarding the proposed joining of our houses. Once we had talked over a few preliminaries, we were able to proceed to the point of arranging a formal betrothal feast at Hallam Hall.”

“If I might just stop you there, Lord Vawdrey,” the Queen interrupted him, holding up one elegant fore-finger.

“Of course, your majesty,“ he responded politely.

“We seem to have raced ahead, Lord Vawdrey” she said reproachfully. “And skipped the most relevant point.”

“We have?” he frowned and turned to the audience with a small bow. “Do forgive me.”

They laughed, and the Queen looked annoyed. “Which one of the Montmayne girls,” she asked dramatically sweeping a pale graceful arm in an arc. “Was the prospective bride? That is the question!”

Oswald Vawdrey looked totally astonished by her query. He looked about him with supposed incredulity. “Why as to that, there was simply never any doubt in my mind. It was entirely apparent who was my brother Roland’s intended, and had been for several months by this point.”

There was a murmuring in the crowd, and Eden knew they were discussing that infamous midwinter kiss. For the first time, she felt no burning shame about the gossip. That kiss seemed … well, almost innocent now!

“And to be clear,” said the Queen with a tight smile. “You are referring now, to…?”

“I refer, of course,” he said with a small bow in her direction. “To the Lady Eden,” he responded gravely. A positive buzz went up after this.

“If I might appeal to you all for quiet!” trilled the Queen, and the hub-bub died down with seeming reluctance.

One voice could still be heard protesting though, and Eden turned her head to look at her uncle Leo, who was bleating like a bullfrog.

“Ah, Sir Leofric,” said the Queen tolerantly. “You would seem the logical person to speak next.”

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