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His Forsaken Bride

Page 14

by Alice Coldbreath

Oswald sighed. “I can assure you, both parties involved will be somewhat better off for our intrusion. There will be no adverse repercussions, you have my word.” When Carleton’s expression did not waver, he added. “I left one purse of gold with you already this morning. Don’t force me to take my custom elsewhere.”

Carleton snorted. “You know there’s none better than me, in all of Aphrany.”

Oswald smiled. “Prove it. You have precisely a quarter of the hour, to bind this youthful pair into a respectable married couple of some twelve years.”

“Quarter of an hour!” grumbled Carleton, but he snatched up the document as soon as Oswald wandered to the other end of the room, peering at a map. “The ink may still be wet, mind you!”

“It can dry on my way back home,” he replied mildly.

“Bryce,” said Oswald softly some half hour later, startling his assistant nearly out of his skin. “The deed is done. Ambrose Thane is re-married.”

Bryce pursed his lips. “Some would say with undue haste, my lord,” he said distastefully.

“Some would,” agreed Oswald. “However, here at court we try not to judge his majesty’s decisions.” He let this sink in until Bryce’s cheeks turned pink, then added: “It seems the gentleman in question is somewhat hesitant to throw a celebratory feast.”

“Perhaps he thought it might seem in poor taste, my lord?” answered Bryce who was clearly made of sterner stuff than Oswald had previously imagined.

Oswald frowned at him a moment. “Of course, the newlyweds must have some form of celebration, or it would be much commented on at court.”

Bryce looked bewildered. Oswald never usually showed the slightest interest in the social events. “Indeed?” he said lamely when his master continued to regard him in steady expectation of a response.

“I’m glad to see we are of the same mind on this, my good Bryce,” he said cheerfully. “I want you to extend an offer to Sir Ambrose offering the use of the audience chamber below. It is rarely used and he will bother no-one, gathering his friends and family there.”

Bryce looked startled. “But my lord!” he protested before lowering his voice to a loud whisper. “It would hardly seem decent with – with – his first wife in such close proximity!”

“I fail to see your point.”

“What if she should wander into the antechamber? Why, it adjoins the gallery above-”

“I am aware of the fact.”

“But what if she were to venture out?”

“Oh, she will venture, Bryce. And you’re going to make sure of it.”

“I am?”

“When I leave her alone presently, I want you to open the door leading out into the gallery. That should give her a very good view of the wedding party.”

Bryce’s face froze.

“You disapprove Bryce?” sighed Oswald.

“It’s not my place to approve or disapprove, my lord,” said Bryce stiffly.

“My dear Bryce, you look the picture of outraged virtue. Do you think me unduly cruel?”

Bryce folded his lips, his double chin giving a slight wobble. He made no reply.

“To let her continue in false hope would be far crueler,” pointed out Oswald gently. “I’m afraid Lady Fenella must realize her current position. Sir Ambrose Thane is lost to her. Forever.”

“It’s a wicked world, my lord,” said Bryce.

Oswald looked pained. “You are not in the seminary now Bryce,” he pointed out. “You would do well to become a little more worldly.” He paused heavily while Bryce chewed this over. “I want you to tell Thane’s man that the use of the room is offered ‘by a well-wisher at court’ who wishes to remain anonymous until they are re-acquainted. Do you think you can manage that?”

Bryce fidgeted in his seat. “Yes, my lord,” he said unhappily.

“If not, I can send another but I’d rather keep this between us.” Edwards would have leapt at the chance of a little intrigue, thought Oswald bitterly. He really was going to have to do something about Bryce! “Off you go!”