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“I never planned on keeping a wife at court,” said Oswald coolly. “That was always the plan in the long run. I told her this from the outset. Fenella is a country-bred girl. Court life does not agree with her.”

Mason gave a spluttering laugh. “So, your plan is to stick her in Vawdrey Keep and leave her there?”

Oswald inclined his head. “As you say.”

“It won’t work like that,” said Mason knowingly. “You’ll be thinking about her the whole time. Worrying she’s been bitten by a dog, or fallen down a flight of steps.”

Oswald shot a curious look at him. “That’s absurd. Do you really worry like that when you’re apart from your Linnet?”

“I make damn sure I’m not apart from her for long,” said Mason mildly. “And yes, she’s on my mind constantly.”

Oswald shifted in his chair. Mason’s candor over such matters surprised him. “Fenella’s very capable,” he said. “She’s not been sheltered like Linnet. The countryside is her natural habitat. It’s here that she’s a fish out of water.”

“That may be so,” admitted Mason. “But it’s not just the worry. You’ll want to hear her voice. Know what she’s been up to. Remind her that she’s yours.”

“Again, that’s you Mason. You’re the possessive one, not me.”

Mason gave a snort. “Really?” He regarded Oswald beneath his dark brows. “You watch her like a hawk, you know.”

Oswald smiled thinly. “That’s because I can’t trust her,” he said, ignoring the clamoring of his own conscience at such a statement. “Her being here is a constant inconvenience I don’t need. Once she’s gone, I’ll be able to concentrate on my work.”

“We’ll see brother, we will see,” replied Mason aggravatingly. “For the cleverest man I’ve ever met, you’ve got the strangest idea of how marriage works.”

“Few marriages are like your own, Mason,” pointed out Oswald.

“You mean loving?” asked his brother directly, surprising him.

Oswald found himself at a complete loss for words.

“You could have that with her,” said Mason slowly. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want that for yourself.”

Oswald opened his mouth then closed it again. “We’re made differently,” he said. “Our natures. Yours and mine.”

“I’m starting to suspect, not that differently.”

Oswald could not have been more surprised if Mason had broken into song. Since they had been small boys all anyone had ever done was point out their differences. Their father more than anyone.

His brother regarded him impassively. “I suppose you know what you’re about,” he said doubtfully. “I know you’re a damn sight cleverer than me.”

Oswald wondered about that briefly. Then he nodded. “I’ve just come to collect a few things,” he said briefly. “I’m not sleeping here tonight.”

His brother gave him a hard stare. “Whatever she did, I hope she deserves this treatment,” he said quietly. “Because if not…”

A floorboard nearby creaked and Oswald shot a glance toward his bedroom, but all seemed as it should be. He rose from his seat without allowing his brother to finish his statement. “I’ll see you on the morrow,” he said dismissively and headed to his bedchamber. Mason made no response and Oswald eased his way through the door into the shadowy room. For a moment, he thought Fenella lay rather too still. Her position had altered from earlier, and her face was turned into the pillow, so he could not make out her sleeping expression. He moved stealthily around the room, collecting what he needed and then let himself out. Mason’s cup lay abandoned next to his in the room next door. His brother had already gone to join Linnet.

**

Dawn broke and Oswald resigned himself to the fact he would not get a wink more sleep. It seemed almost as though he had tossed and turned for the last four hours straight. He had only been married a little over three months, he told himself savagely as he threw back the covers. It made no earthly sense that he would feel unable to sleep in a bed without her! And yet, for some reason, he had continued to reach for her in the night, his instinct not falling in line with his stony reasoning.

He passed a long drawn-out day, meeting with various dignitaries to arrange Friday’s events. He delegated what he could, but due to the sensitive nature of the situation, had to make sure he kept a close eye on proceedings. By lunchtime he had sent several of his agents ahead to check out the lay of the land and to ensure all was as it should be at Mendip Hall, where the princess was under lock and key. He had men of course, in the area already who were sending regular updates, but it was better to be safe than sorry. After all, the King would be in attendance. He did not return to the Vawdrey chambers until well after six o’clock to wash and dress for the evening’s entertainment in the Great Hall. Fenella was already in the bedroom, sat in a very formal gown of dark green with gold embroidery at the sleeves. She wore her rubies and emeralds at her throat and her diamond girdle at her hips. Trudy was dressing her hair in a high arrangement of loops and braids. They both fell silent as he entered the room, though Fenella greeted him in a subdued voice. He answered in kind, and neither of them met the other’s gaze. As soon as Trudy had pinned her veil in place, Fenella stood up and walked into the adjoining room. Her maid followed her, leaving him to finish washing and dressing on his own. He took his time. After all, there was precious little for them to say to each other. He meant to avoid spending time with his wife as much as possible until after the midwinter festival when he could send her safely on her way. After all, he had to wean himself off her company at some point and these three days would be ample opportunity to achieve that bachelor state of mind he had held for so long. Or so he told himself.

By the time he’d donned his doublet and followed his wife out, he found Mason, Roland, Linnet and Fenella all waiting for him. At his appearance, Linnet slipped an arm through Fen’s and whisked her out of the door into the corridor and he fell in step behind them, with his brothers on either side of him.

“I hate theatricals,” murmured Roland mutinously. “Damned if I can see why I should have to sit through this one.”

“Well take heart,” said Oswald. “There’s an unflattering portrayal of me in the second and third acts, so you’ll derive pleasure from that if nothing else.”

Roland perked up. “The devil you say?”