Page 6 of His Forsaken Bride

“After all,” carried on Bardulf leisurely. “It may consolidate your position of power if the little who- your pardon – lady in question manages to hold his attention.”

Oswald snorted. “She’d be the first one who did.”

“Of course, you’d end up raising royal bastards to inherit your title and lands,” added Bardulf wryly.

Oswald made an impatient gesture with his hand. “That’s quite out of the question,” he said, surprising himself with his vehemence.

“Your family does have a history of elevating bastards,” pointed out Bardulf.

“Mason was my father’s bastard. Not another man’s.”

“Yes, there is that distinction,” agreed Bardulf still watching Oswald closely.

“I must thank you, Bardulf. For bringing this to my attention,” said Oswald. “Forewarned is forearmed.”

“I will await your next move with great interest,” said Bardulf looking amused. “But I think you may find this predicament beyond even your ingenuity, Vawdrey.” He looked a little rueful. “I have not given you as much notice as I would like.”

Oswald smiled wanly. “We shall see.”

**

His Majesty King Wymer's Court at Aphrany

Oswald slid into his seat opposite the dais and tapped his assistant discreetly on his shoulder as the King listened to his latest petitioner. Bryce nearly jumped out of his skin, and then looked so relieved he might cry. “My lord,” he whispered. “I was so worried. You never miss an audience with the King and his majesty was quite put out to start without you.”

“Who is this?” Oswald asked in a low voice. Bryce was right, he never missed because someone had to keep an eye on the King. And that someone was usually him.

Bryce cleared his throat. “This is his majesty's equerry to the north, Sir Ambrose Thane,” he whispered back.

“Ah Thane,” Oswald looked down the list his assistant had provided for him. Thank gods he was the last on the list today for this morning’s session. He had a stack of work to get back to. Oswald frowned as the King made a gracious speech of acquiescence which had Sir Ambrose breaking out in smiles all round. An insipid looking blonde on the sidelines squealed and ran forward to clutch Sir Ambrose's arm. “What exactly did he ask for?” he asked with slight misgiving. Wymer could get carried away sometimes in granting requests and Oswald had to admit he had taken his eye off proceedings for a moment there.

“A divorce,” responded Bryce helpfully.

Oswald's eyebrows rose. “A divorce?” he echoed. “On what grounds?”

Bryce coughed. “Sir Ambrose did not go into the specifics.”

Wonderful, thought Oswald grimly. Watching Sir Ambrose kiss the hand of the blonde, Oswald guessed he had a replacement lined up already. He cast a sour look Wymer's way. He just hoped the previous wife did not come from a powerful family or there could be hell to pay. “What was the name of the discarded wife?” he asked with a frown. He'd scarcely slept a wink the previous night. He could really do without any added complications this morning.

“Lady Fenella Thane,” muttered Bryce helpfully.

“Her maiden name, Bryce,” he clarified testily.

Bryce blushed faintly. “I'm afraid as to that my lord, I could not say...”

“Never mind, the damage is done now,” Oswald interrupted him. He would have to cross that bridge when he reached it. Giving himself a slight shake he moved over to where the King was now signaling for the doors to be opened, the public royal audience having ended for another month.

“A divorce?” he murmured reproachfully.

King Wymer shrugged. “I looked in your direction,” he said defensively. “And you weren’t there to give me any indication either way!”

Oswald suppressed a sigh.

“You think it will be a problem?” asked the King, with a yawn. “It seemed like the quickest way to shut the prosy bore up.”

“Very likely,” agreed Oswald dryly. He pressed a finger and thumb to his eyes.

“You look tired, Vawdrey,” grunted the King clapping him on the shoulder. “You work too hard. Get a bit of shut-eye.”