Page 83 of An Ill-Made Match

“Aye, well,” said Roland belligerently. “She’ll have to reconcile herself to it. And so will he!” He looked up and caught Mason’s smirk. “What?”

Mason shook his head, and crossed his massive arms. “Naught,” he said with a short laugh.

“The Queen’s most annoyed to be missing out on today,” warned Oswald. “So no doubt she will have put a flea in the King’s ear this morning already. Tread carefully.”

“Queen Armenal won’t be there?” asked Mason.

“No ladies will be there,” emphasized Oswald. “Not even Eden.”

“Why not?” spluttered Roland, who had expected to have a glimpse of his wife at the very least.

“It was decided it would be too indelicate for ladies’ ears,” said Oswald. “Today will be delving into the wedding ceremony and the aftermath.” Roland groaned. “Precisely,” said Oswald.

**

“Get on with it, man!” barked King Wymer, glaring through beetling brows at Sir Christopher Montmayne. “Spit it out if ye’ve something to say!”

Eden’s least favorite uncle bridled, but could hardly protest when answering his sovereign. “I proceeded with the others to the best guest bedchamber,” he said stiffly. “The door was locked, but with the help of the steward and Sir Roland’s two brothers it was forced.” He paused, screwing his face up. “What I saw there, shocked me, shocked me to the very core. A scene of licentiousness which I had never dreamt of seeing in the hallowed halls of Hallam.” The King snorted, and Sir Christopher looked affronted at the amused ripple that ran through the audience. No doubt, if the audience had contained ladies, he would have had the scandalized reaction he had anticipated. Among the lords, knights and barons however, his words were not having the effect he desired. “My niece, Eden Montmayne was lolling a-bed with Sir Roland, and both as naked as babes!” His jowls shook with horror. “’Twas plain what had transpired the night before, and what grievous step their illicit passion had led them to take,” he intoned piously.

“I see,” said the King, his eyebrows shooting into his fair hair. “And – er – Sir Roland offered no excuse or denial of the scene you witnessed?”

“Not he!” burst out Sir Christopher indignantly. “Indeed, in spite of his night of sin, he still evinced a shamefully amorous and lusty state for her!” A gust of laughter went up from the crowd and Roland shifted in his seat. “I scarcely knew where to look, your majesty! Never had I -”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure,” said King Wymer brusquely. “And then?”

Sir Christopher drew himself up, pursing his lips. “My brother Leofric and Lord Vawdrey had some words about how to restore my niece’s honor.” He cast a nervous look in Mason’s direction. “I –er –attempted to remonstrate with my niece upon the gravity of the situation, but was prevented by Sir Roland’s kinsman.”

“Which one?” asked the King with a flicker of interest.

Sir Christopher fiddled with the links of his belt nervously. “The Duke of Cadwallader,” he admitted. Heads swiveled in Mason’s direction. His brother looked entirely unperturbed, Roland noticed.

“And then?” prompted the King impatiently.

“Sir Roland climbed out of the bed, and shoved me from the room, shutting the door in my face,” Christopher finished in an injured tone.

“And where was the lady Eden at this point?” enquired the King.

“She was still a-bed, your highness.”

Wymer sat up in his throne, a frown on his face. “Do you mean to say, the pair of them were left to their own devices again, sequestered in the guest bedchamber?” he asked incredulously. “Not the smallest effort having been made to separate them or take your niece back?”

“I – er – well,” Sir Christopher stammered lamely. “Yes, your highness.”

“Both of ‘em,” said the King sarcastically. “Still ‘naked as babes’?”

“Er – yes,” admitted the unhappy Sir Christopher. “Naked as the day they were born.”

“Extraordinary! Oh, sit down, man!” he said impatiently, and scanned the crowd until his eyes fell on Mason Vawdrey. “Cadwallader,” he said grandly. “Best have your account next, I fancy!”

Mason made a stoic and unshakeable witness. He corroborated the facts without any embellishment and his fierce stare made sure his statement was not punctuated with any crowd reaction. They did not dare.

The King digested his account broodingly, before steepling his hands at his square jaw. “What I don’t understand…” he said slowly. “Is this. The host’s niece was found in Sir Roland’s bedchamber.” Roland felt himself tensing. Oswald laid a hand on his arm, giving a tiny shake of his head. “It seems to me that the Montmaynes were glad to rush through a quick wedding to set things to rights.” Mason gave a short nod of agreement. “The lady was heretofore of impeccable character and reputation,” conceded the King. “But why did the Vawdrey party not balk in any way at the way things turned out?”

“Why should we?” rumbled Mason in his deep voice. “When it was evident this was the very outcome my brother desired.” There was a crowd reaction to that. Mason did not acknowledge it, but the King’s hand shot up to quiet the murmured voices.

“What makes you so sure of that?” asked the King sharply.

“I heard him say it with my own ears,” said Mason firmly. “At the feast the night before. He said they were presenting him with ‘the wrong one’ and he would not take her to wife. When I asked him what possible objection he could make to the lady, he answered she was not the one he wanted. He said, ‘She is not Eden’.”