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“Every year without fail. With his seal. The same line was written, in the same sprawling hand. I asked my father once, and he said there was nothing to be done with so stubborn a man. He recommended I put them in a chest and thought no more of it. He told me to mention it to no-one.”

Oswald slowly stroked her back. “Is that what you did?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“In lieu of what was promised,” he repeated softly.

“Yes.”

He sighed, and Fen shifted her body in closer to his.

“Of course, he might have just felt bad that I was thrown over, and was sending me compensation?” she suggested.

“That doesn’t really sound like my father.” His tone was dry.

“The chest is in my old room at my brother’s place. It didn’t seem right having it at Thurrold. Maybe I could give them to Linnet’s daughters,” suggested Fen struck with inspiration. “Toward their dowries? What are their names, again?”

“Lily and Margaret.” Oswald was running the back of his hand down her side now.

“What did Roland mean,” she asked in an abrupt change of subject. “When he said he tried to steal Mason's wife?”

Oswald’s hand stilled and rested at the swell of her hip. “He was just being aggravating.” He explained. “Roland was engaged to Linnet, our sister-in-law, but it was arranged by our Father. Roland refused to go through with it as rumor had it she was a misshapen invalid. Father sent Mason and myself to jilt Linnet on Roland's behalf, but she propositioned Mason to take Roland's place. He took her up on the offer. Then later, when it turned out her relatives had told many lies and suppressed the fact she was holding a dukedom in abeyance, Roland changed his mind and tried to get their marriage annulled.”

Fen plucked at the bedsheets. Annulling marriages seemed to be rather a Vawdrey pastime. “And... was she? I mean...”

“No,” answered Oswald mildly. “Linnet has red-hair and many freckles. But nothing else ailed her.”

“And your brother Mason and she are happily married now?” she asked.

“Very.”

“Was your brother not angry with Roland?”

“Very,” repeated Oswald.

“But they are amicable in their relations now?”

He rolled onto his side to face her fully. “As amicable as most brothers,” he answered. “Which is to say, not very. But they are reconciled.”

Fen tucked her hand under her cheek and studied his face. “Did you never joust in tournaments?” she asked. She was sure that Oswald was far better looking than any other man at court.

His smile turned a little bleak. “At Roland's age I was enrolled in the King's army,” he reminded her. “There was no playing at battle back then.”

She nodded. “I see.”

“Fenella,” he said, rising up on one elbow, his tone suddenly serious. “I think you should devote some effort to becoming one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting. Now we know you are remaining at court for the foreseeable future, it would cement your standing and give you some guidance in how you are to spend your days at court.”

Fen’s eyes widened with alarm. “Hester Schaeffer does not think that an enviable station at all!” The idea of applying herself to becoming a sophisticated courtier was a daunting one indeed. She had only managed to get through functions before in the knowledge she would soon be back in the country.

“But you are not Lady Schaeffer,” he pointed out.

“And Lady Doverdale is one,” she said darkly.

“And so is your other friend, Eden Montmayne.”

“Yes,” she agreed reluctantly. “But Eden is so very accomplished and good at everything. And the Queen was most underwhelmed with me, when I met her.”

“I could speak to the King.”