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Roland turned a look of utter scorn on his friend. “Exactly you fool.” He looked at Fen and then back at his friend. “Gods, you all think you know him, but you haven’t the first notion.”
Sir Edward looked uncomfortable. “Steady on Roly. There’s a lady present.“
“I tell you, you don’t know him!” insisted Roland. “You only think you do.” He was looking directly at Fen now, the challenge plain in his expression.
“You’ve said that before,” said Fen. “But perhaps I am not such a stranger to his character as you suppose.”
“Think so, do you?” sneered Roland throwing down his hand of cards. “You’ve only been wed a week! If you truly knew him, you would run for the hills.”
“I think not,” said Fen, and for some reason, she suddenly thought of the scarring at Oswald’s back. She may not know him as well as some did, but she knew some of his secrets alright. Even if he did not mean to let her into the heart of them. She lifted her chin.
“Tell you about his work did he?” mocked Roland.
“No, would you recommend I asked him?” asked Fen mildly. She was determined not to let her brother-in-law get the upper hand.
“I thought not.” He smirked.
Bors peeked out from under his chair and yawned. Roland reached down and patted his head.
Fen approached the table to pour herself a cup of ale from their pitcher. She took a few sips and then sat down next to Sir Edward and opposite Roland. She saw a look of surprise flit over his face and was pleased. Did he really imagine she would go and hide in the bedroom? She was made of sterner stuff than that! “What are you playing?”
“Huntsman Bold,” answered Sir Edward
“You wouldn’t know it,” said Roland shortly. “It’s not a ladies’ game.”
“I played cards with my brother Gil many a day,” protested Fen.
“For money?” asked Roland.
Fen looked at the table. “I see no coin,” she pointed out.
Sir James laughed. “She has you there.”
Fen peered at the cards which depicted various beasts of the hunt. They were a beautifully painted deck.
“What games did you play with your brother?” asked Sir Edward with interest.
“Let me see,” said Fen tapping her chin. “There was Find the Acorn…”
“A child’s game,” dismissed Roland.
“Heap of Fish.”
“My dribbling nephew could play that.”
“A Fine Red Apple…”
“Nursery fare.”
“I made that one up,” said Fen leaning back in her chair. “You really are too predictable Roland. I’ll wager you’re a terrible card player.”
He smirked. “Now you’re trying to bait me into letting you play. But you’re not as clever as you think you are, sister.”
“Or you’re not as stupid,” she replied, before catching herself. Her eyes widened as his friends snickered. “Your pardon,” she stammered.
Roland frowned. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because, I addressed you then as if you were truly my brother,” she admitted.
