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His Forsaken Bride

Page 87

by Alice Coldbreath

Oswald shot him a look and Roland subsided.

“You know full well what I mean, Roland,” said Fen seriously. “You are meant to be the King's champion, yet I have never heard a man speak as unchivalrously as you about women.”

Roland shrugged carelessly. “I speak as I find,” he said.

“You have a cruel tongue.”

Roland screwed up his face. “I've never spoken ill of you, except to your face,” he said ingenuously.

Fen was surprised. “Truly?”

“Truly. In fact, I've even defended you on occasion.”

“Because I'm your sister now?”

He shrugged again. “I speak ill of my brothers all the time,” he said casually. “Biggest pair of bastards you'll ever meet. Mason, quite literally.”

Fen pursed her lips in disapproval.

Roland leaned forward on his forearms. “I even tried to steal Mason's wife one time,” he told her conspiratorially. Fen stared. “Maybe I'll succeed with Oswald's?” he said with a wink and shot a look of challenge at his brother. Oswald leaned back in his chair, his eyes guarded, hiding his expression. Fen felt instinctively, that he was waiting for her response to his brother's teasing. “Nonsense,” she said, trying to hide her unease at his words. She could tell that Roland wanted to shock her and was determined not to give him what he wanted. “You have a flair for the dramatic, Roland. Perhaps that is why you're such a draw in the lists.”

Oswald's lips twisted into a reluctant smile. “Mayhap we should come along and watch you joust tomorrow, Roland?” he suggested.

Fen exhaled in relief.

Roland grunted. “Up to you. I only wear the prettiest lady's token though,” he warned. “That's one standard I absolutely will not allow to slip. Even for family.”

“Meaning you won't wear mine?” asked Fen with mock-dismay. “I believe I'll survive the disappointment.”

“Would you like to attend?” Oswald asked her directly.

Fen tipped her head to one side to consider it. “Is there any likelihood of Roland being knocked off his horse and onto his backside?” she asked hopefully.

“A very slim chance,” responded Oswald with a small smile.

“That's good enough for me,” she responded.

Roland snorted. “If that's what you're hoping for, you will be disappointed, sister,” he said flexing his muscular arms. “There's no-one entered that will give me the slightest trouble.”

“A pity,” she sighed. “But I should probably see what all the fuss is about.”

“Well don't bring your army of frights with you,” was his parting shot as he rose from the table. “A man likes to see a pretty face through his visor. Not the likes of Eden Montmayne and her sour features.”

“Eden Montmayne is an attractive and moreover, an accomplished young woman!” she called after him.

She couldn't really make out Roland's response but the inflection of his words was derisive.

**

Roland had not left the room for long before Oswald dismissed the servants and suggested they turned in to bed. Fen blew out the candles at the table and followed him into their room,

“Your brother is abominably rude,” she told Oswald. She had washed and was unpinning her hair.

“He likes you,” he said grudgingly over his shoulder as he poured more water into the basin to wash.

She started loosening her braids. “How can you tell?” She drew a hair comb through her newly freed tresses.

“It's quite obvious if you know him,” said Oswald dryly. “Roland's a straight-forward creature. With few subtleties.”