De Bulverton had to step back because Creston was close enough to throw a punch if provoked. Still, he looked at Creston in outrage. “Howdareyou speak to me that way,” he said. “She is not your wife until I say she is.”
Creston didn’t back down. “Then we will be married immediately,” he said, looking at his brother. “Send word to the Church of St. Andrew. It is at the end of the village. Tell the priest that he is to perform a wedding mass at dawn. I will marry the lady and we will answer this question once and for all. If you refuse, Lord Sidbury, then I will take this to the local magistrate and you will lose.”
De Bulverton was furious. He looked at Ophelia, who was gazing back at him with some fear, before returning his attention to Creston. The knight was pompous and rude, and as Oscar looked at the man, he began to think of the absolutely delicious secret his granddaughter was hiding. So de Royans wanted to marry her immediately, did he? All the better for Oscar if he did. The arrogant arse deserved everything he was going to get.
It was all Oscar could do not to smile at the thought.
“If that is what you want, then you shall have it,” he said. “You’ll have everything in life that is coming for you, de Royans. Mark my words.”
With that, he turned and headed toward the kitchens, shouting for Hobbes and demanding to be shown his chamber. His daughter, who had been lingering at the rear of the commonroom, watching the entire situation unfold, went running after him. That left Ophelia sitting at the table, feeling sick at her grandfather’s behavior.
She was horribly ashamed.
“I am sorry,” Creston said softly, interrupting her thoughts. “I did not mean to create a scene, but I cannot tolerate a tyrant. I did not like the way he grabbed you.”
Ophelia was trying hard not to weep. “It is… his way.”
“I suspect this is not the first time he has done this to you.”
She shook her head, hanging it. “Nay,” she whispered.
Creston watched her lowered head for a moment. “No more,” he told her. “That will happen no more. Tomorrow, we wed, and he’ll never touch you again. Now, I want you to retreat to your chamber and remain there tonight. I will make sure arrangements are made for a wedding mass at dawn. And I will have the meal sent to your chamber, so you can eat and rest. We will speak more tomorrow.”
With that, he extended a hand to her. Ophelia had no idea what he wanted until she realized he wanted her hand. She was so used to being grabbed or forcibly escorted that it was a completely foreign concept to her that a man should be so considerate. Timidly, she put her hand in his enormous one and he gently pulled her to stand. For a moment, they simply gazed into one another’s eyes—his were warm; hers were anxious.
He smiled gently.
“Go, now,” he told her quietly. “I will see you on the morrow.”
Ophelia simply nodded and headed off toward her small, rented chamber. She didn’t dare look at anyone around her, afraid that everyone had seen the confrontation. She was unsettled enough as it was. But she did dare to look back over her shoulder, just once, to see Creston in conversation with his brother, who didn’t seem too pleased.
Upsetting the bride’s grandfather was never cause for celebration.
Bride.
As Ophelia made her way to her chamber, disappearing inside and bolting the door, she knew one thing for certain. Nothing in her life had ever been so clear. Creston de Royans thought he was marrying a pure, innocent woman who was being bullied by her grandfather, but that wasn’t the case. He was marrying an impure, pregnant woman, and if he did, her grandfather would have victory over Creston. The insulting scene out in the common room would be avenged.
By Oscar.
But Ophelia couldn’t allow that to happen.
She was going to have to save Creston de Royans.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Iam notentirely sure how well that meeting just went,” Cruz muttered. “It looks as if Cres and that old man nearly came to blows.”
He was seated at the table that the trainers regularly used when relaxing at The Black Cock, a heavy, long table situated in an alcove that could be sectioned off with pieces of paneled wood if they needed privacy, but it was raised above the rest of the common room and had a view of the entry door, making it perfect for men who were almost always on their guard.
It had been a prime spot to see Creston’s introduction to the woman he was going to marry and then the subsequent events, including what looked to be a confrontation between Creston and an old man with dirty hair and a bulbous nose. Creston’s brother, whom none of them had met, was also part of the situation, but he’d been standoffish rather than actively in the middle of it. When the old man stormed off, Creston had sent the young woman to her chamber before he and his brother seemed to have further heated words.
All was not going well with Creston’s betrothal.
“It is clear that he does not want this,” Tay said, his gaze on Creston, who was over near the entry door with his brother. “Icannot say that I was eager to wed, either, but meeting my wife changed my mind.”
Those who were married, Fox and Sinclair and Payne, nodded, while the unmarried trainers didn’t seem to have much of an opinion.
“The right woman can change a man’s mind,” Sinclair said. “His betrothed is a beautiful woman.”
