Page 16 of The Cordial Bride

“I don’t understand, Aunt Celia. How can that happen?”

She narrowed her gaze, fury written across her face. “The Moorcondians think themselves above any convention. Men taking boy brides has become common among them, apparently. Ridiculous!” Throwing up her hands, she circled the room before coming back to him. “Fennic has agreed that it must be your choice. You will refuse the offer when it’s made tonight after the banquet.”

Calan was still stunned at the news. “I will?”

Celia raised her hand again, then let it drop before it landed on his face. “Yes, you ungrateful boy. Some day you will light my funeral pyre and can do what you like. Until then, you will do as you’re told.”

Calan had always been grateful for his aunt’s care and obedient even when he disagreed with her. It seemed little enough, given how much he owed her. This demand, however, made his heart ache. It wasn’t merely that he longed to lose his virginity to Ian. There was something more lurking within him that caused him grief at the idea of rebuffing the man.

He was a dutiful nephew, though, and gave the only accepting answer. “Yes, ma’am.” He lowered his gaze, not so much to be contrite as to hide the resentment he felt.

“Good. I’ll be but a moment to change, then we will go. This ridiculous notion of a marriage can be dealt with and perhaps the whole treaty will fall apart. That would be the best outcome, and perhaps I’ll owe the count a debt of gratitude for doing what I’ve been unable to thus far.”

Calan stood in the same spot, waiting with as much patience as he’d ever had. Outwardly, he was calm and complacent. Inside him there raged a storm of confusion and unhappiness. Traveling had always been nothing but a dream, and living elsewhere for the rest of his life hadn’t featured in it. Shadow Valley was the home he loved, and while visiting new places appealed to him, what Ian was proposing meant a permanent move from his homeland. He might never see it again, and what did it mean to be Ian’s wife? There would be mounting, of course—probably a great deal of it. That thought spread warmth through him, forcing him to control his cock’s effort to harden. But there was more to marriage than sex. Would he become chatelaine of Ian’s household, directing servants and planning banquets? He had no experience with such matters. There was no way he could please Ian in that way. And what if the man tired of him in bed? Powerful men often took lovers outside of marriage, didn’t they? He rubbed the spot over his heart at the idea he’d be expected to share the man.

“Come now.” Celia straightened the cuffs of her formal dress as she strode toward the door.

Calan followed as he always did, silent. This time, though, his mind was whirl of thoughts and feelings, conflicting and confusing. He barely noticed the journey to the longhouse until they were entering the large room and the din of many people inside it. He kept his gaze downward as he made his way to his assigned seat. Ian’s presence could be felt somehow, and Calan knew where to find him if he looked. He dared not. His misery would surely be noticed by the man, and there was no point in making them both unhappy while they ate. Not that Calan had the stomach for food… He picked at his plate and was both relieved and alarmed when the meal ended.

Calan tried not to drag his feet when Fennic called for him to come to the council room. He’d never seen it before, yet lacked any interest is taking in his surroundings. The heat of Ian’s gaze was impossible to ignore now that they were enclosed in a smaller space. Looking up, the count’s face was right in his line of vision. He saw concern there, but also more—encouragement. Ian shot a brief smile at him before taking his seat next to his sister. Everyone was doing the same, and Calan realized Fennic was gesturing him toward a chair between him and Celia. Calan took it, careful not to look at his aunt. She was no doubt delighted to thwart the plans of everyone there, especially the Moorcondians.

Fennic put his hand on Calan’s arm. “My dear boy, I expect your aunt has apprised you of the count’s offer of marriage to seal the treaty.”

Calan nodded and swallowed past a painful lump in his throat. “Yes, sir.”

Fennic patted him a few times. “Good. And I’m sure you also understand that we would never make such a decision for you. No desire for a treaty can override our customs. No one in Shadow Valley is forced into a marriage not of their choosing. So, we ask you now—do you accept the count’s proposal?”

It were as if time stopped, no one moving, nothing stirring. All Calan could hear was the pounding of his own heart and the rushing of blood through his veins. For a few moments, he didn’t even breathe until his head swam from lack of air. He clenched his hands in his lap to ground his tension and keep his expression neutral. You know what to say. There really was no choice, except he couldn’t resist the urge to raise his gaze and look right at Ian. What he saw there chased all doubt away and governed his tongue before he even realized what was happening.

“Yes.”

Chapter Six

Ian hefted the heavy basket higher onto his arm. “Are you sure about all of this, Isabeau? I mean salt, flour, cheese, honey and wine as gifts to the bride’s family don’t seem very ingratiating.”

“Yes, I am.”

He didn’t need to see his sister’s face to know she was still seething over what he’d done and the outcome of his offer. She’d unleashed her cutting tongue on him after the council meeting, but since Calan’s acceptance, she’d stopped talking about it. Her silent disapproval was equally harsh. But as the marriage had broken through problems in the negotiation of the treaty and had led to it being almost ready to sign that very morning, the deal was as done as it needed to be as far as he was concerned. She’d successfully fulfilled the task their king had given her. The man would be pleased, and the court would rightfully fete her upon their return. And however she felt, she was at least performing the Shadow Valley customs as the sum total of the groom’s family.

Ian flicked his gaze down at the animal she led on a leash. “And the goat, too?” He knew he was being stupid about all of it. His sister would have been meticulous in determining the various details of what was expected of them. It was hard to follow the formalities, though, when all he wanted was to get Calan wedded and bedded.

“Yes,” Isabeau bit out. “Not that it had to be a goat, per se,” she added. “Any farm animal would have done. This happened to be the easiest one to procure. You’ll pay me back what I paid for it, of course.”

“Of course.” Ian knew his sister would never come calling for the payment. She was simply giving an outlet to her anger. The afternoon was doomed to be very uncomfortable for them both.

Calan’s aunt was duty-bound to welcome them into her home. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to make it as unpleasant as possible. The look on the woman’s face when Calan had accepted the proposal had been frightening. Her fury had been a palpable thing, sufficient to make Ian worried for Calan’s safety. Yet, when he’d tried to speak with the boy, it had been Fennic who’d stopped him. Apparently, the betrothed couple had to be separated until the groom had paid homage to the bride’s family and been welcomed into their home with some kind of ceremony involving tea, of all things.

“What exactly is supposed to happen?”

Isabeau shrugged. “I have no idea. I didn’t ask because it’s not up to us to do anything, and beyond our duties, I don’t—”

“Care. You’ve made your feelings on this matter very clear.” It was disheartening, but he also knew his sister and believed she would come around in the end. “You can’t be surprised by this. I’ve made my feelings on the matter of marrying a woman and producing heirs very clear.” He stopped and waited until Isabeau stopped as well. “I have no interest in bedding women, as you well know. Calan…” He sighed. “I want him very much and if I can satisfy my own desires and do some good for my king and country, then why not?”

“I didn’t need your help, you know. The treaty was close to being finalized. I would have found a path forward on my own.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. This wasn’t meant to reflect badly on you, sister. It’s merely a matter of my giving into my urges without dishonoring Calan. Helping the negotiations is merely a side benefit.”

Isabeau looked away from him. “Then you must lie in this bed you made, and the gods help you.” With that, she started on her way with determined steps.

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