Page 89 of Wed By Proxy

“I think on the whole, it would be better for you to see them on the morn, when you have had a good night’s sleep.”

“Oh, I agree,” said Mathilde fervently.

She shuddered to think of her old Nurse putting her to bed again, but the awful thing was, she had been so tired earlier, that no doubt she would have allowed it. She definitely needed to be on guard around her mother and Nurse, or they would be eager to resume their time-honored roles in her life as her custodians. She could allow no back-slipping now she had finally achieved independence.

“Whereabouts in the house are they?” she asked with misgiving. She hoped there was no chance of stumbling upon them unexpectedly in the corridors.

As if aware of her thoughts, Oswald Vawdrey smiled. “They are in the east wing, so you need have no fears on that score. We are in the west.”

“And my mother does not come around to hound you daily about your progress?” she asked, shrewdly.

“I have been most careful to curb such behavior,” Lord Vawdrey said with what Mathilde could only suppose was massive understatement.

Mathilde frowned and leaned forward in her seat. “I, um, I don’t suppose there will be any need to divulge what happened today,” she said hopefully, and fixed him with an appealing look. “You see I dread to think what Mother would say if she knew I allowed myself be led into a dark cave by a treacherous spy. No doubt lots of scathing things about my naivety. That and my being quite unfit to leave her side.”

Oswald Vawdrey gave a small cough. “Even if she knew that only you walked out of the cave alive?” he asked.

“Oh,” said Mathilde, considering this. That aspect had not quite occurred to her. She thought about it now. “She would probably still think, quite unfairly, that the north is a nasty, dangerous place,” she concluded with a sigh. “And that I should return to the palace with her.”

“I am guessing,” said Oswald good-humoredly, “that the account of your adventures you regale the queen with will be highly edited. No mention for instance of Wickhamford jail.” He shot her a sidelong look and she gave a violent start.

“You heard about that?” she asked, alarmed.

“I did.” He inclined his head.

“Is it too much to hope that no one else has?” asked Mathilde, biting her lip.

“Well, not from me,” he said with a smirk. “But if you take my advice, you won’t give them too sanitized a version of your travels. After all, you mean to prove you have found your feet, do you not? And besides,” he added dryly. “The queen will be satisfied with nothing less than high drama.”

Mathilde turned this over a moment. “What about the Kerslakes though? Would not their name be dragged needlessly through the mud by a frank retelling?”

Lord Vawdrey gave her a considering look. “It might be as well not to mention that part,” he conceded. “Though we may be forced to admit the truth to a select few.”

“What, um…” She swallowed. “What were your instructions about … the body?”

Oswald looked startled at the directness of her question. “It was to be recovered and taken away,” he admitted after a momentary pause. “I have not yet decided on the best course of action. Perhaps, in a few days’ time, it will be found at the bottom of a cliff. Kerslake will have had an unfortunate accident and broken his neck in the fall.”

Mathilde fidgeted a moment in her seat. “Tristan said he did not care about preserving his good name, but … I am not so sure.”

“You are generous,” said Oswald heavily.

She brushed this aside. “Though he was a little concerned that an outcast might be blamed for his death.” Oswald’s eyebrow arched skeptically, though he did not comment on this. “If I spend the day tomorrow with my mother and the queen,” said Mathilde. “Then will I be permitted to return home to Acton March the day after in order to wait for Guy’s return?”

Oswald hesitated. “Let us see how things go with the queen,” he prevaricated. “After coming all this way, I do not think she will allow your reconciliation quite so meekly.”

Reconciliation? Mathilde looked up sharply. It was a strange word to use, unless… Unless he had heard about the way she and Guy had been carrying on these last few days. Her color rose. But surely he could not be informed on such matters?

“Come now,” he said quietly, and rose to his feet. “You must be tired. The hour grows late and you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow, persuading your mother and the queen that you are a vastly contented wife.”

Mathilde glancing at the window, guessed the hour must be around midnight at the very least. She rose to her feet. “You are probably right,” she admitted distractedly.

He took her hand and, bowing over it, regarded her thoughtfully a moment. “I am starting to suspect you are quite the husband tamer yourself,” he said with a quirk of his lips. “I begin to pity Martindale quite sincerely.”

Mathilde looked up at him startled. “Pity him?”

“He must be harried to death, poor fellow. And when he finds out how close to death you came this day…” He sighed. “It would be kind of you to take some pity on him.”

XXXIX