Page 84 of An Ill-Made Match

At that the muted voices rose in a great swell. Roland felt himself flush. Had he really said that? Mason’s bold gaze told him that every word was true. He felt strangely elated. Perhaps he wasn’t such a stupid bastard after all, when he let his baser-self rule on instinct alone? He had been consumed with Eden Montmayne, and what’s more he had been celibate, in the six months since she had kissed him, and made him hers. It had been his thinking self that had thought to put an end to his struggle by marrying the prettiest girl at court, like he had always intended. His thinking self was a fucking idiot. He had no patience with him. His blood ran cold at the idea he could have wed anyone else. But then he remembered that he had stated quite clearly at the feast that he would take none to wife, save Eden. That reassured him, and he could breathe easy again. He wished Eden could have heard that. Though not any of what her idiot uncle had come out with. One day that bastard would pay for talking about Eden being naked in a roomful of men.

His brother nudged him again. “Did you hear who has been called?” he murmured in an amused voice.

“No,” Roland looked up quickly and saw Cuthbert sauntering unhurriedly down the middle of the room as if he had not a care in the world. “You jest.”

But he did not.

“I see,” said the King nodding his head some time later, a smile tugging at his lips in spite of himself. “And what – uh – what made you suspect that your master was – ah – employing artifice on the journey?”

The King was not the only one enjoying Cuthbert’s testimony. The crowd was, immensely. Roland felt his face grow warm.

“Her horse was fine, your majesty,” snorted Cuthbert. “And showed no symptom of lameness.” He cast a knowing look at the audience, who laughed up their sleeves. “He just wanted her on his horse, up before him.” He nodded sagely. “It was obvious, even to someone of my tender years.”

Roland winced, closing his eyes briefly. When would this come to an end? He cast a resentful look at Oswald, but his brother was smothering another yawn. If anything, Mason was more sympathetic to his plight, he thought crossly. But maybe that was because that poor bastard had been through someone trying to annul his marriage. Him. He supposed, uneasily, that one of these days he ought to try and make that up to Mason. The thought had never really occurred to him before.

He listened with excruciating embarrassment as Cuthbert detailed how Roland had kept Eden locked in an inn bedroom with him for a night, a day and another night before he would consent to continue their journey to Tranton Vale. By all accounts, he reflected, he was coming across as an extremely lecherous husband when truth be told, they had not even consummated their marriage by this point! He squirmed inwardly as Cuthbert repeated a couple of the landlady’s choice remarks which had them rolling in the aisles. “I’m going to kill him,” he murmured out of the corner of his mouth.

“You’ll not touch a hair on his head,” Mason told him firmly. “Strictly speaking, he’s still part of my household, and only with you on loan.”

“Well, you can have him back directly!” Roland grumbled. “The little wretch!”

After Cuthbert, Roland’s friend Sir James Attley bore witness to how Roland had brought Eden along to their pavilion at Tranton Vale and bade them to raise a toast to his marriage.

“And how was his manner?” barked the King.

“His manner, sire?” asked a startled Attley, who clearly had hoped to get away with talking facts rather than opinions.

“His manner. One of your oldest friends isn’t he? Surely you can gauge his mood. Was he resentful, surly – how did he seem to you?”

Attley looked dismayed. “He – er – he seemed – er,” he stared down at his feet a moment and took a deep breath. “Jubilant, sire” he said at last. “Elated, proud. He was showing her off like he’d won some great prize.” Attley scratched his neck. “He – er – sat her on his lap, and not just in the pavilion with us, but at the banquet too,” he said looking embarrassed. “And – um – called her sweetheart.” Attley turned a dull red when people started up whispering again. “At the banquet he fed her from his plate and they shared a loving cup.”

“Hmmmm,” the King narrowed his eyes at him. “Did he make no mention of the circumstances of taking her to wife?”

“He just said he’d changed his mind, sire,” said Attley simply.

Sir Ned Bevan backed up his friend on these details when it was his turn, and additionally, he told of how they had walked in on Roland kissing his new bride on his bunk on the following afternoon. He was a lot less flustered than his friend and told the tale in a straightforward manner that went over well with the audience.

“In your opinion, did your friend seem resentful at being trapped into a hasty marriage?” asked the King.

“No, your majesty, he did not,” said Bev decidedly. “He looked like he could scarcely bear to let the lady out of his sight.” He hesitated, and the King picked up on it immediately.

“Yes, Sir Edward, you have something to corroborate this claim?”

“I do,” said Bev, raising his chin. “The next day, the victor of the joust, Lord Kentigern, awarded the tourney garland to Lady Eden. When he heard of it, Roly – your pardon – Sir Roland flew into a jealous rage, the like of which I have never seen him display before.”

“Indeed?”

“He was quite white about the mouth. Almost immediately, he determined to drag her off to Vawdrey Keep like a possessive husband.”

Roland kept his eyes straight ahead as he felt both his brothers turn to look at him with interest.

“Humph,” said the King. “Where he’s kept her closely guarded ever since,” he said irritably. “Shall we adjourn for some refreshment?” The guards at the far end opened the door and a buzz of conversation rose up toward the rafters. “Can’t think what Armenal expects me to do about all this,” Roland heard the King say plaintively to one of his advisors. “It’ll be a miracle if she isn’t with child already from what I’ve heard!”

**

Eden spent a very strange second day at the palace. Not long after breaking her fast, she received a missive from her grandmother Lady Dorothea formally requesting a farewell meeting. Queen Armenal, when apprised of it, encouraged her to receive her grandmother in the Queen’s own sitting room. “But yes of course, Eden. You must see your grandmother before she leaves. Send your reply with my page. Jane can sit in the antechamber with a book or some needlework to give you some privacy. As for myself, I am going hawking presently.” She refused to take no for an answer.

A half hour later, Lady Dorothea was ushered in. She was dressed as if for travel in a somber gown of charcoal gray. After seeing her seated before the fire, Jane tactfully withdrew with her book.