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“Now my lord?” asked Bryce, glancing at the window.

“Yes, for it will take him time to arrange for the refreshment and entertainment,” Oswald pointed out, sounding exasperated.

“Very well, my lord.”

Oswald waited a moment until his assistant had reluctantly left the room and then, and only then, he reached into his tunic extracting the paperwork and unfurled it. Reaching across the desk he took up Bryce’s pen, dipped it in the ink and added his own signature next to his father’s. He blotted it and waited a moment for it to dry and then re-folded it and slipped it back into his doublet. Then he rose with a satisfied nod and headed for his office.

**

Fen had never felt so wretchedly miserable in her entire life. She huddled in the chair by the fire, fighting back her tears and listening to her brother complain about having to take her back into his household.

“I had thought to take a wife by the end of the year,” he said in an injured voice. “Fat chance of that now, with a woman with her feet under my table already,” he grouched. “Sarah Yondy wouldn’t even touch me, with a spinster sister nearing thirty years as a dependent.”

“I’m twenty-six,” she murmured tiredly, though in truth she felt eighty. All her bones were beginning to stiffen and ache from the ride and the rain. She felt both hot and cold at the same time. Mayhap she’d caught a chill? A chill that would develop into a full-blown inflammation of the lungs and carry her off by morning in a high fever, she thought. Then Ambrose would be a murderer and then he’d be sorry! Looking down she found the limp, damp rag she was twisting in her fingers was Lord Vawdrey’s once-pristine handkerchief. It looked as abused as she felt. Lifting it up she gave her nose a good, hard blow. To her embarrassment, when she looked up Lord Vawdrey was back in the room with his eyes on her. She wasn’t even sure how long he’d been gone.

“You must forgive me, my lord," she said haltingly. "I can scarce believe that after eight years of marriage I am to be cast off in such a fashion..." she stifled a sob. "It's...it's too callous!" She looked up at him fiercely. "Could you do such a thing to a wife who has always been loyal and true?"

"I'm scarcely in a position to say," he replied shortly. “For almost half the years I’ve been married, my wife has been living with another man.” She gasped and fell back at that. “Forgive me for my bluntness,” he added smoothly. “It seems to me that now we are aware of the legal status of our union, we should set about setting things to right immediately.”

Her brother cleared his throat and made a noise of agreement. “He’s right, Fen,” he said shaking his head. “Need to face up to it, girl. Ye’ve to face two divorces in as many days. Good thing our Mother’s not around to see these goings-on. But I suppose, the fault’s not really yours.”

“Of course, I’ll sign whatever paperwork you deem fit, my lord,” she said dully.

“And – ah – perhaps you may see your way clear to –” her brother coughed.

“Gilbert!” Fenella sat up in her chair in embarrassed horror. “You must not-!”

“He said himself we were due some reparation!” said her brother belligerently.

“There is no need for either of you to be concerned for Fenella’s future,” cut in Oswald.

“I suppose I’ll take you back to Sitchmarsh Hall with me directly,” grumbled her brother. “To keep house for me.”

Fenella opened her mouth to reply, but again Oswald forestalled her.

“That is quite out of the question I’m afraid,” he said firmly. Both of them turned to look at him in surprise. He looked Fenella square in the eye. “I will expect my wife to take her rightful place at my side.”

Fen stared at this imposing stranger a moment and found words failed her. “My lord,” she began in her most dignified voice. “You must realize that is impossible…”

“Why must I?” he asked advancing into the room and, to her alarm, drawing a chair up next to hers.

“You mean, you actually want to take Fen to wife?” asked Gilbert incredulously.

He was ignored as Lord Vawdrey reached for her hand, and took it in his.

“Now Fenella,” he said in a calm, even voice. “There’s really no need for you to lose your head over this.”

“But-”

“You're getting yourself all tied up in knots over nothing,” he said calmly and placed a hand firmly on her knee anchoring her to the seat when she would have jumped up. “This is an arrangement that will work to our mutual advantage,” he carried on, and smiled at her. It should have been a reassuring smile, she realized quivering with alarm. But she didn't find it remotely reassuring. Here, in such close quarters she could see Oswald Vawdrey, up close and personal. Those cold, glittering eyes above the amiable smile. The hard muscle under his fitted doublet. Her every nerve and instinct was screeching that he meant danger and was not to be trusted. He stroked a thumb absently over her knee and she almost shot off the chair in alarm. “Shhh, I promise you won't regret our bargain,” he carried on in even tones which started to soothe her almost in spite of herself.

“Bargain?” she asked hoarsely. “I made no bargain. That was just our fathers, they-”

“No, no,” he tutted. “The marriage bargain is between you and I, Fenella. You are my wife-” he broke off when she gave a murmur of distress. “Yes, that is settled now, you must resign yourself to the fact.”

He sounded, she thought, almost apologetic, but not quite. It was the oddest thing.

“But we needn't let the marriage inconvenience us in any way,” he carried on matter-of-factly. “I have my position here at court to maintain which takes a good deal of my time and energy. You have your –” he broke off for a moment lost for words. “What is it you like to do?” Fenella opened and closed her mouth. He waited patiently. For the life of her, she could think of nothing. Her mind had gone a perfect blank. When no answer was forthcoming he carried on. “Your brother tells me you kept house for Thane very competently. Now you can do so for me. There will be little material change.” Little change? He must have seen the expression on her face, for he started up again at once. “You find that hard to believe? But it is true, I am very rarely to be found at Vawdrey Keep. It must be some...four or five years since I last went home.”