Page 81 of An Ill-Made Match

“She’s not!” insisted Eden. “People just don’t understand her, that is all.”

“Well, in any event,” said Fen glibly. “You were the one that Oswald intended for Roland all along. I know that much.”

There did not seem to be much point dwelling on the whys and wherefores of it all. Eden felt tired after the day she’d had. Instead she sat back and listened as her two sister-in-laws gleefully shared with her tales of the early days of their own marriages.

“Mason told me that I should mix with our neighboring families,” said Linnet with a droll look. “As apparently, he did not have time to sit with a wife of an evening. Then when I went ahead and made plans to visit the Jauncey family, he suddenly forbade me from setting foot on their estate!”

Eden frowned. “Did he explain why he changed his mind?”

“Never,” snorted Linnet. “In fact, he told me I could see who I pleased as it made no odds to him. Then slammed a lot of doors, gave me an armed guard and told me he shouldn’t have to come looking for me when he returned home of an evening.”

Eden stared at her friends as they both dissolved into laughter. She couldn’t see what was funny about a male acting so unreasonably.

“Oswald told me as his wife, I could return to Sitchmarsh and pick back up with my day-to-day life in the country with very little material change,” said Fenella with a breathless laugh. “Then, a few days later, he turned around and said he’d changed his mind, expected me to become a courtier and declared, quite coolly that he expected me to ingratiate myself with the Queen and become one of her ladies-in-waiting!”

Eden blinked. “He changed his mind?” she repeated incredulously.

Fen nodded. “That’s husbands for you!” she shrugged, her eyes alight with mirth.

Linnet wiped her eyes. “They’re so funny sometimes!”

Eden watched them both and wondered if she was mad, or they were. Compared to how his older brothers had behaved, Roland seemed almost reasonable as a husband. She shifted in her seat as Linnet and Fenella exchanged more fond stories of their spouses acting inconsistently. Was this really just a part and parcel of married life? She bit her thumbnail now, and wished she had been more conciliatory with him, and not told him she did not want his kisses! Why had she done that? Fenella was telling the tale of how Oswald had gone ahead and had her previous marriage declared null and void simply because he did not like the idea of her being another man’s wife. Linnet followed this up with some story about Mason unblushingly upping the number of children she had promised him whenever it suited him. Eden sank further and further down into her seat. Roland’s brothers sounded like nightmare husbands in comparison to him!

**

Roland woke to a heavy weight across his legs and the sound of off-key whistling in his close vicinity. He poked his head out of his blanket and glared blurrily at Cuthbert who was clattering around with water and clean cloths. Then he looked down to find Castor lay across his legs, his massive head resting on his front paws. Castor cracked one eye open to look at his master and then shut it again. “What are you doing here?” Roland asked, reaching down to rub the dog’s ears. Castor yawned.

“The Queen sent for me to fetch him to you,” said Cuthbert, breaking off his tune.

“What?”

“He wasn’t playing nice with her other lady-in-waiting.”

Roland sat up. “Explain.”

“Lady Eden is sharing a room presently with Lady Jane Cecil.” Roland pulled a face. He thought it a bit rich that someone else got to sleep in the same damn bedchamber as his wife. “Castor objected most strongly to the sleeping arrangements.”

“Is that so?” Roland asked, absently patting the dog.

“The Queen said Parnell could stay, but this one had to be returned to his master.”

Roland grunted. “Did you see your mistress?” Cuthbert nodded. “And?” he prodded with annoyance.

“And what?” asked Cuthbert. “She was scolding Castor up a storm. Then soon as I went to take him, she was hanging round his neck, crying her eyes out.” He shrugged. “She was likely tired,” he added fairly.

Roland eyed the large white dog who did look a bit sheepish, now he thought about it. “Ah well, not really your fault, my boy.” Castor thumped his tail against the bed.

“How do you make that out?” spluttered Cuthbert. “He had that Lady Jane pinned against a chest of drawers, screaming fit to raise the dead by all accounts. The guards rushed in thinking there was an attempt being made on the Queen’s life!”

Roland shrugged, supremely unconcerned. “I don’t agree with the sleeping arrangements either,” he said, climbing out of bed.

To his surprise, Roland found two occupants already in the adjoining room. His brothers were seated at the table. “Cuthbert never said you were here,” he commented, pulling out a chair. Castor darted forward, straight under the table.

“Good morning to you too,” said his brother Oswald dryly. “Was that Castor?”

Roland ignored the question, for he could see the dog was already sniffing in welcome at Oswald’s boots.

“Of course we’re here,” thundered Mason. “By all accounts I’m likely to be called for a witness. Yes, Castor, it’s me,” he said, holding out his hand for the dog to sniff. “I still haven’t heard how events turned out yesterday,” he said turning to Roland.