Page 74 of An Ill-Made Match

“Is that so?” asked Brigid with interest. “Well good luck to her with that!” She nudged Eden conspiratorially. “He is a fine figure of a man, when all’s said and done, and not so many of them about. There’d be plenty of lasses in the village glad to have him.”

At Brigid’s wistful tone, Eden looked up. “But not you?” she asked curiously, then felt contrite. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I didn’t mean to pry.“

Brigid laughed. “I did cast my eye his way at one time, as it happens,” she admitted. “But I came on too strong for the likes of Fulco. He’d have preferred if I’d played the bashful maiden, rather than the brazen widow.” She clicked her tongue. “A shame, but there ‘tis.”

“I daresay a bashful maiden would never hold her own against his mother,” said Eden.

“You may have something there, milady,” agreed Brigid and they both smiled at each other. Eden’s smile was rather watery. “There now, that’s better. Shall I fetch you a posset, milady?”

Eden opened her mouth to reply when they both heard the dogs start up barking below.

“Whatever’s gotten into them now?” said Brigid vexedly. “It surely can’t be a visitor at this hour?” She hurried to the door, and when she flung it open Eden thought she could hear unknown male tones below. Brigid looked back at her with wide eyes, evidently having heard the same strains of muted conversation. “I’ll be back directly I’ve found out what it’s all about, milady,” she said and disappeared.

Eden stood uneasily in the center of the room. Who would call at this hour in such an out of the way place? She had just gone to retrieve her book from the shelf in the box bed when she heard a hurried step on the stair. She turned to face the door as it burst open and Roland stood framed there. “What is it?” she asked, catching sight of his expression.

“You’d better come down,” he said grimly.

**

Roland had not spoken to her on the staircase, but when she followed him into the sitting room, she found it seemed full of strangers, and checked on the threshold. She looked about her in bewilderment and realized it was only two men dressed in the manner of knights.

“Eden,” said Roland. “This is Sir Palmerston du Vrey and Sir Symond Chevenix of the King’s guard.” The two knights stood by the fireplace stepped forward and bowed to her. “They have come to accompany you back to Caer-Lyoness, at the request of the Queen.”

“The Queen?” Eden blurted and then, “Me? Why?” She looked searchingly at the two knights. Sir Symond was the younger of the two and he stared glassily past her shoulder while Sir Palmerston cleared his throat before averting his eyes. She turned back to Roland.

“It seems,” he said heavily. “That the Montmaynes have lodged a complaint with the Queen about certain irregularities with our marriage.”

“My family have?” Eden heard herself ask, in a high pitched voice she hardly recognized.

Sir Palmerston coughed. “That is correct Lady Eden,” he said.

“Which I find extraordinary,” continued Roland coldly. “When you consider that your uncle and guardian acted witness at our wedding.”

Sir Palmerston cleared his throat. “It is the Lady Dorothea Montmayne who has petitioned the Queen.” Roland looked blank.

“My Grandmother,” explained Eden with a sinking heart. She’d petitioned the Queen? “She surely has not left Hallam Hall!” she faltered, groping about for a chair to sink in. Roland caught her firmly under her armpit and lowered her into a seat, for all the world as if she were an old woman. In truth, she had come over a-tremble.

“Lady Dorothea is at court now,” Sir Symond informed her with a nod.

“I can scarce believe it! She has not been to court in twenty years!” Eden muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

“She is accompanied by her granddaughter, the Lady Lenora,” added Sir Symond, earning a glare from Sir Palmerston.

Eden looked up in dismay. “Is – is Lenora a petitioner too?” she asked with a catch in her voice.

“We are not at liberty to tell you any more at present,” cut in Sir Palmerston firmly. “But you must leave with us at first light, my lady.” He glanced at Roland. “By royal decree.”

Eden felt herself go at once hot and then cold all over. She felt Roland’s hand press down on her shoulder, and realized he was still stood by her chair. She took a deep breath. “I see,” she said and forced herself to look up at Roland. He was still looking rather foreboding in the flickering firelight, and had not spoken for several moments. He will be glad to see the back of me, she thought blankly as she tried to gather her wits about her. For some reason, it was proving difficult. She was finding it hard to catch her breath.

“If we are to leave at daybreak,” Roland said with deliberate emphasis on the ‘we’. “Then you must be our guests tonight at Vawdrey Keep.” Eden turned her head sharply to look at him. “We will have beds made up for you. I’m afraid they will be in the servant’s quarters as we are still in the process of refurbishing the place.”

Sir Symond turned rather red, “You don’t seem to appreciate the nature of our mission, Sir Roland-” he started stiffly.

“That would be very good of you, Sir Roland,” said Sir Palmerston, cutting across his companion loudly. “And perhaps a bite to eat, sir. If it’s not too much trouble?”

“Of course,” said Roland. “I will have supper sent up for you directly.” He held his hand out to Eden, and she took it hastily, and found herself dragged to her feet. “And now to bed with you, I fancy, with such an early start in the morn.”

Sir Symond opened his mouth to speak, but Eden saw Sir Palmerston deliberately step on his foot. He muttered something out of the corner of his mouth, which sounded like ‘don’t be such a bloody fool, lad!’ but she could have been mistaken.