An Ill-Made Match (Vawdrey Brothers Book 3)

by Alice Coldbreath

  “Nonsense!” said the Queen heartily. “He merely teases you. This is the problem with unmarried women,” she said turning to Eden. “They do not understand what teasing creatures men can be.”

  Eden felt a sudden sympathy for Jane. “It is likely because he is not used to our accent,” she said. “Viscount Bardulph is from the Western Isles, is he not?” Jane’s answering look said she wished he would go back there, and soon.

  “That is so,” nodded the Queen. “He is my countryman.”

  “Will you dine with your family this evening?” Jane asked Eden in a deliberate change of subject.

  “Oh… yes,” Eden replied. “My cousin writes she will call for me at seven.”

  Lenora arrived promptly at seven, and even exchanged a few words with the Queen. Eden was amazed at her cousin’s self-possession. There was nothing furtive or nervous about her manner, and when Eden whispered her plan to her, as they proceeded to the west wing, she did not even blink an eyelid.

  “Of course,” she nodded placidly. “I thought it would be something of the sort. I can return for you in three hours.”

  “I hope it is not a great imposition,” Eden fussed nervously. “What will you do if a guard were to arrive for me, or something of that sort?”

  Lenora shrugged. “I daresay I should think of something,” she said vaguely, with an air of assurance that quite staggered Eden.

  “You must not worry,” Lenora said glibly. “Just make sure you are ready to return with me at ten o’clock.”

  “I will.” They had arrived at the Vawdrey rooms, and Eden kissed Lenora’s cheek and knocked faintly at the door. It opened immediately. Parnell, who she had brought with her jumped up at his master in excitement. Eden heard Castor bark from inside, and the next thing she knew she was whisked inside, pressed back against the door and thoroughly kissed, as Roland turned the key in the lock. A loud ‘woof’ startled them both, as Castor came bounding over to welcome her and Parnell. Roland grudgingly made room for the large beasts, milling around them. “Hello, hello there Castor. I knew they would be pleased to see one another. Lenora is calling back for me in three hours,” she said, as Roland propelled her to a chair by the fire. He sat down and pulled her into his lap, kissing her again until she was breathless and clinging to him.

  “Do you know what’s going to happen on the morrow?” she asked as soon as she could draw breath.

  “Not really,” he admitted. “I think everyone who wanted to put in their two pennies has now done so. Mason caught me up on the first day and today seemed like much of the same.”

  “What did he make of it?” Eden asked.

  Roland exhaled noisily. “He scarcely knew what to make of it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And neither did I, hearing his re-telling.”

  “Lord Vawdrey and Lenora swore that I was the intended bride,” marveled Eden lowering her voice. “Listening to them, I almost believe it myself.”

  Roland looked at her then glanced away. “Mason said the same thing,” he muttered.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He flung his head back and rested it on the back of the chair. “You should have been,” he said closing his eyes. “If I hadn’t been so fucking blind about my own feelings. I never exchanged more than a half dozen words with your cousin.”

  Eden slipped her arm around his neck. “Don’t be upset,” she said pressing in close to him. His jaw remained tense, even when she dropped a kiss on it. “If you had asked my uncle, I would just have said no. Screamed it, actually. Then run for a convent,” she said seriously.

  His eyes flickered open and he grudgingly smiled. “I’d still have had you, all the same,” he said.

  “Yes,” she whispered and kissed the corner of his mouth, where it turned up. “And today? Who was there?”

  “Your uncle Christopher,” muttered Roland. Eden tensed. Oh no. “Mason and Cuthbert,” Roland continued with disgust.

  Eden drew back to look at him uncertainly. “Really?”

  “Little swine has gone to Oswald’s tonight. Making himself scarce.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Attley and Bev.”

  “Oh dear,” said Eden. “I don’t think your friends approve of me.”

  “Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” said Roland, his thumb circling her hip. “It seems they had my measure from the start. I like you in this dress,” he said. “But I still want to take it off you. Can I?” Eden wanted to ask what his friends had said for him to get that impression, but Roland was kissing her again, and demanding her whole-hearted participation. When she wound her arms around his neck, he gave a deep growl of appreciation. Eden drew back in alarm. “No, you don’t,” he said, tightening his arms about her. “Not after tormenting me like that this afternoon.”

  “Tormenting you?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Telling me you wanted me to kiss you, when I couldn’t.”

  “Oh,” she smiled at him. “But I did not say that to torment you. I thought you would be pleased.” Noticing his expectant air, she reviewed his last few sentences in her head. “Yes, you can. Take my dress off me, I mean.”

  She had no sooner uttered the words than he swung her up in his arms. “Stay!” he said firmly to the dogs who had jumped to their feet. They both dropped back down by the fire and Parnell rolled onto his side.

  “I expect they are missing the others,” observed Eden ruminatively. Roland said nothing, just shouldered the door open. He carried her inside and Eden looked around with interest. “I miss our box-bed,” she sighed.

  “Did I tell you I ordered another?” Roland asked, setting her on her feet and spinning her round so he could start unfastening her laces.

  Eden looked back over her shoulder at him. “For here?” she asked with surprise.

  “No, for Vawdrey Keep. It’s a lot bigger and grander, with carving and lots of shelves for books and sconces for candles and things.”

  “Sounds nice,” said Eden.

  “I ordered us new bedding too. With our initials.” He tugged at her bodice and then maneuvered it down to her waist. “I should get one for here too, though,” he reflected. “That’s a good idea.” With a few more short pulls, her skirts dropped to the floor and Eden stepped out of them.

  “This bed looks fine though,” Eden said, walking toward it as Roland started hurriedly divesting himself of his own clothing. She had only just slipped under the covers, when he bounded in beside her and started pulling her shift up over her head. Once they were both naked, he pulled her into his arms and they lay still a moment.

  “Naked as babes,” Roland murmured.

  “Pardon?”

  “I’ve heard that phrase several times today.”

  “In what context?” puzzled Eden. Then she exclaimed. “About us?”

  He laughed against her neck, tickling her. “Yes,” he admitted. “This reminds me of when I first woke up on that morning. Though it’s not entirely right.” His tone was teasing and he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. Then with one hand he palmed her breast, the other coming to rest with great familiarly against her bottom. “It was more like this.”

  For the smallest moment, Eden considered telling him they had both been drugged that night. But then she realized it would completely ruin his playful mood. Suddenly she realized, he would be angry on her behalf. “I remember, your hair smelled nice.” He sniffed it now. “Your skin smelled nice,” he buried his nose in her neck and breathed in there with every sign of pleasure. “And you sure as hells felt nice,” he carried on, giving her a good squeeze. “But the strangest thing was, when I realized it was you…”

  “Yes?” Eden prompted tensely.

  “I had the strangest feeling in my chest,” he mused. “At the time I couldn’t identify what it was.”

  “A sort of sick feeling?” suggested Eden in muffled tones against his shoulder.

  He gave a short laugh. “No, not a sick feeling.”

  “What then?�
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  He cleared his throat. “It felt like a sort of burgeoning sense of well-being. Like… a huge weight had been lifted from there. Somehow it felt like everything had come right with my world. I was glad.”

  Eden felt like all the air had been sucked from her lungs. She lay a moment like a stunned fish, before trailing her hand to rest over his chest a moment. “Here?” she asked.

  He shifted her hand to the left so it lay over his heart. “More like… here.”

  Eden thought of Lenora’s words. Maybe in some obnoxious Vawdrey male type way, he had been pining for her. She lifted her head to look at him. Glad. He said he’d been glad to wake up and find her in his arms, she thought, her head reeling. Glad. To find himself obligated to wed her? She felt her body trembling. It couldn’t possibly be true, could it?

  “Cold?” He asked in concern, crowding around her at once, rubbing his palm up and down her back. Eden found herself glancing uneasily at the door. “No-one’s going to burst in, sweetheart,” he assured her. “We’d hear the dogs first.”

  That was true enough, Eden found herself relaxing a little. “I wish we were back at the Keep,” she said wistfully.

  “Really?” He sounded pleased.

  “Don’t you?”

  “I don’t mind,” he said. “So long as…”

  Unable to hear anymore sweet words so soon, Eden leaned forward and kissed his lips. He said her kiss had been perfect last time, so she kissed him again boldly, and with tongue. Roland groaned into her mouth, hauling her body more firmly against his own, which strained against her with bunched muscle and hard need. Eden grasped his shoulders and let herself relax against him.

  “I don’t like poetry,” Roland Vawdrey whispered. “But I do like you, Eden.” He was tracing his fingertips over her hips. She shivered. Although his body felt tense and primed, his actions were lazy and unhurried. “And you don’t like tournaments, but you do like me.” He tugged one of her hands down from his shoulder back to his chest. “I want your hands all over my body.” His words with thick with desire now. Experimentally, Eden ran her hand over the warm skin of his muscular chest. His eyes darkened and his chest heaved. He definitely liked that.

  “Oh Eden,” he whispered.

  Why did he keep doing that? Speaking her name with pleasure? It scrambled her brains and turned her to a puddle of mush. She gazed down at him. “I thought of another weapon at our disposal,” she said breathlessly and let her hand wander lightly down his flat belly. He held very still, and made a noise of startled pleasure when she made out the shape of his maleness with her hand.

  Roland sucked in his breath. “My cock?” he asked looking confused.

  Eden blushed violently. “No! Yes…” she corrected herself. “I mean, well…” she lowered her voice. “You could put your baby in me.”

  For a full minute, he didn’t utter a word. “What?” he asked finally in a strangled voice, breathing hard.

  Eden glanced down in alarm at his violent reaction to her words. He seemed to have swelled to an enormous size, and thrust more firmly into her grasp. “Um.. well…” Eden was forced to adjust her hold. “It... was just an idea. I probably didn’t think it through…”

  “Say it again, Eden,” he urged her huskily, his grip on her hips tightening.

  Her eyes returned to his, her cheeks were scarlet. “I thought that well, one way around our marriage being annulled would be for there to be, a – um - well, a legal impediment to their nullifying…”

  “Say. It. What. You. Said. Before.”

  “You could put your baby in me,” she repeated wide-eyed.

  He breathed in once. Twice. Then his glazed eyes seemed to re-focus on her. “Gods, Eden,” his voice was so gravelly she could barely recognize it. “Do you want that?”

  “Ye-es,” she said, feeling a little alarmed by his reaction.

  “Tell me then,” he urged, his nostrils flaring.

  “Well…”

  “Tell me to put my baby in you.”

  “Roland,” she squealed, as he in one swift motion, he rolled her onto her back and loomed above her.

  “I can’t wait,” he said shakily as he settled between her legs. “Gods. I could spill right now.”

  She helped him by wriggling around underneath him, her legs wide, until he was poised exactly where he needed to be. His excitement seemed to be transferring to her. Eden felt wild and edgy with some kind of driving need. “Roland?” she asked uncertainly. He stilled, his eyes flying to meet her. “Please,” she whispered, licking her lips.

  “Anything,” he vowed, though he was trembling now. “What do you need? My fingers? My mouth?”

  “Put your baby in me.”

  He thrust, and Eden had to stifle a cry with the back of her hand. He was lodged so deep, her eyes watered.

  “Eden?”

  “I’m not crying, all is well,” she assured him, and to her surprise, found it was. She looked back up to find him watching her in pained enquiry, sweat beading on his forehead. “You can move now,” she said.

  He grabbed her knee and pushed it out to the side, pinning her open to him as he withdrew and then thrust again. “Gods, I’m never leaving you again,” he groaned.

  “What do you mean?” asked Eden, bracing a hand against the headboard.

  “Taking you with me.” He planted his other hand against the mattress, in an attempt not to crush her with his ardor.

  “T-to the tournaments?” stammered Eden, who was finding it hard to follow the conversation whilst his hard body jostled against hers.

  “Everywhere.”

  Eden opened and closed her mouth. It would probably be as well to put an end to the conversation she thought. They could always return to it at some later point. “Very well,” she said, “Husband.”

  His head snapped up and he locked eyes with her. They both gasped, when part of him seemed to swell further still, inside her.

  “Eden,” he whispered, dropping his head down onto her breast. Everything inside her, where he was sheathed was fluttering. “Say it, again,“ he whispered.

  “What?” she asked, confused at the odd sensation.

  “Call me husband. Say my name.” He rocked his hips, making her gasp this time. “Do it, Eden.”

  She licked her lips. “Roland,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he grunted, rocking hard against her.

  “Husband.” It came out like a whine this time. Why was that?

  “Fuck,” he spoke the expletive so clearly, her eyes flew wide. “Are you-?” His eyes were boring into hers. “Eden?”

  What? Eden, turned her face away in confusion. It couldn’t possibly feel good, could it? “I-I’m not sure-” she gasped again. It wasn’t a good idea to try talking, when everything felt so strange. She tightened her grasp on Roland’s shoulders and felt his deep murmur of appreciation vibrate right the way through her. Suddenly she couldn’t get close enough to his big body. Her legs wrapped around his hips, she could feel herself tighten around his man-root so tight that she felt alarmed. She arched up into him, straining, reaching for she knew not what, but suddenly desperate to achieve it.

  “Oh gods,” Roland groaned. “Yes, like that, sweeting.” He thrust into her and Eden yelped, but from pleasure this time, not pain. She gripped onto him so tight, she was sure he would object. Instead, he just flexed his body against hers harder. “Finally,” he breathed. “I knew... Gods I just knew you’d be like this.”

  “Oh! Oh Roland!”

  “Tell me,“ he ground out. “Now.”

  “I-I hardly know!” she gasped. “It feels so… inside me,” she babbled.

  “Good? Tell me it feels good to you, Eden.”

  “You feel so… good.”

  “Yes,” he gritted out. “Yes. Every time now, I’m going to make sure you feel good like this. As good as you feel to me.”

  Really? She made him feel that good? Running her hands over his bunched and flexing muscles, she could feel his strength and resolve
as his body labored above hers. She felt bold and daring, like she could not get enough of touching his warm skin.

  “Yes!” she whimpered, sinking her fingers into his shoulders and arching up into him. “Please Roland!”

  She watched his eyes smolder. “What else?” he demanded.

  Eden gazed up at him helplessly. She wrapped her legs around his back, clutching him tighter to her. Why wasn’t he moving like she needed him to?

  “Eden? What else am I to you?”

  She refocused on his tense expression. What was he to her? She cast about wildly. “H-husband?” she ventured.

  A look of vast satisfaction spread over his face. “That’s right.” He rewarded her with a few hard strokes that had her keening against his shoulder. When his pace slackened, threatening to stop again, a frustrated Eden dragged her hands down his back to his buttocks and gripped him tight.

  Roland uttered a strangled oath, and started moving his hips in earnest. “If you want me gentle, you need to ease your grip,” he warned.

  With a reserve of strength she didn’t know she possessed, Eden squeezed him even tighter, using all her strength to haul him against her.

  His body shook. “Gods Eden, if you knew what you did to me-” his words broke off, as he crushed his mouth to hers. And then, he was pushing her back into the mattress, driving her into it. Their bodies were a tangle of pulsating need, with their limbs moving together with one purpose. To lose themselves in each other’s body. Eden cried out, when she found herself taken in a tidal wave of sensation and crashed against the rocks, coming apart in a thousand pieces. Only to find herself safe and in one piece once again, clinging to her anchor, which was Roland Vawdrey. He dropped his head and roared into her shoulder when his own wave broke. Eden’s hand flew to catch hold of the back of his neck, anchoring him to her.

  By the time she came out of her stupor, she was lying sprawled over his chest, like a limp rag. Roland Vawdrey was on his back beneath her, breathing steadily. She should roll off him. If she could muster the energy. Was this what it had felt like every time for him? No wonder he was always clamoring for her. She cracked an eye open, but could not quite bring herself to roll off him. One of Roland’s hands was tucked behind his head at the pillow, the other rested on her lower back. He was lying still, as if asleep, but something told Eden that if she tried to extricate herself he would have something to say about it. She closed her eyes and gave up the battle before it had even begun.