Page 2 of A Marriage of Undead Inconvenience
“Perhaps,” said Lord Riven, “you might explore that pointafterwe resolve the rather more urgent matter of our union.”
“Of course.” Sighing, Margaret tamped down her excitement and lifted her cup for another tasteless sip. “So, it was due to your own exigency that you chose to threaten my family?”
“No,” he said, “it was in my state of exigency that your family chose to extortme. My man of business informed me that just in time to salvage my home, he’d discovered a most helpful gentleman with a niece who would be only too happy to wed me and take up the required state of residence...on the sole condition that I hand over my family’s most prized heirloom, the Rose of Normandy.”
“Thewhat?” Margaret had spent years in academia learning to never look surprised or unaware of any facts when other people were watching. Still, she couldn’t control the sudden squeak of her voice or the jerk of her hand now, splashing hot tea across the cream-colored silk skirts of her wedding gown. She ignored that spreading wet heat as she stared at her new husband, searching for any signs of deception. “Do you mean to tell me thatyouhad the fabled Rose of Normandy in your keeping all along?In this house?” Setting down the teacup, she looked about wildly, as if the infamous gem might suddenly strike her with its legendary rays amidst the decaying splendor.
“Where else should it have been hidden but here with all of the other old, forgotten relics?” Lord Riven let out a bitter bark of laughter. “I can’t even fathom how your family knew of it in the first place. I’d thought all the battles over it centuries in the past, consigned by history to the ranks of mere myth.”
“But they’ve hardly beenforgotten,” Margaret said impatiently. “I’ve been researching those stories for years! Why do you think I chose Morningford College for my studies in the first place? Their collection of resources is without parallel—or so I’d thought. If I’d had any idea the real gem was available for study...”
“Itwasn’t.” His eyes narrowed. “How much of that research did you happen to share with your family over the years?”
“Why would I have discussed any of it withthem?” She flapped one hand in dismissal. “They’ve never cared a whit for my studies, nor made any attempt to understand them. My parents were both scholars and explorers, but all my uncle and aunt ever wanted of me was to catch a husband who might increase their social standing. Even after reaching the age of majority, I had to fight to use even the smallest fraction of my inheritance on university fees instead of waiting politely to hand it all over to a man.”
“It certainly wasn’t handed to me.” As his voice lowered to a menacing rumble, his head tilted at an unusual angle, the sharpening of his canines clearly visible even in the low candlelight. In vain, Margaret attemptednotto think of a fanged beast preparing to lunge. “My man of business informed me that, under the circumstances, I should be grateful to have a willing bride at all, regardless of her lack of dowry.”
“WhereasIwas told that all of my funds, along with those of my uncle, had been lost to unwise investments, and you’d bought up the debt.” She gritted her teeth together. “No wonder they refused to stop at any inns along the way to let me sleep! Theyneededme too exhausted and confused to ask the right questions.”
How could she have been such a fool? Her first-year tutor would have torn her to shreds for that shameful lack of critical thinking. The trouble was she’d spent too many years living thankfully apart from her family. Buried in her sanctuary of treasured books and a college-wide quest for learning, she’d forgotten just how little some people valued the truth.
They’d certainly never valued her. How could she have ever imagined that she had escaped their control, only because they’d indulged her for a span of time that had felt, cruelly, like freedom?
For a moment, that old feeling of suffocation was so visceral that her throat tightened to choking point.
Then she stiffened her shoulders, forced a breath through her aching chest, and took a bracing sip of tea. “Very well. Clearly, we’ll need to find a way through this tangle together. An annulment should be simple enough, to begin with. If you contact the minister who wed us tonight and make the arrangements?—”
“Unfortunately, Ididtake the time to ask questions.” Lord Riven’s nostrils flared with distaste. “That new law is quite real, a creation of bigotry and greed that takes full force tomorrow. Should our marriage be annulled—orshould you ever change your permanent residence—I will lose everything, and the sacrifice of my greatest responsibility and my honor will all have been for naught.” Slowly and heavily, he shook his head. “No. I regret that you were tricked into this with me, but I don’t think I shall request or pay for that particular privilege, thank you.”
“But...!” Margaret gaped at him. “Can you not see for yourself the impossibility of this situation?”
“You thinkI’mthe one blind to impossibility?” He aimed a skeptical look at her from the couch. “My dear LadyRiven, where do you imagine you would go if Iwerewilling to annul our marriage? You did mention, did you not, that your university charges fees for residence and study?”
“Well, yes...and theystillwon’t offer any scholarships to female students, even now.” Margaret scowled at the reminder of that long-loathed injustice. “But if we did secure an annulment, I could...oh, curse it. No, I couldn’t, could I?” Shoulders slumping, she sat back in her chair. “My uncle will never willingly hand back my inheritance now that he has it in his grasp—not without a protracted legal battle.”
“And lawyers, I do believe, cost money too.” Her new husband’s tone was gratingly unsympathetic. “No, for better or worse, we are joined together from this day forwards, just as that droning minister ordained. At least you may takesomeconsolation, madam. As you don’t happen to share my curse, this won’t have to be an eternal union. You’ll be released from it in a mere sixty years or so, leaving me to start the whole inconvenient process over again.”
“What a charming perspective on the matter.” Margaret glowered at him. “Perhaps I’ll choose to poison you instead to win my early release.”
“Not unless you’re willing to poison yourself, as the only source of nourishment you could possibly gift me.” He arched a single, sardonic eyebrow as he turned his gaze pointedly to her bare neck. “Was that intended as a hint, lady wife? Are you offering me a celebratory wedding meal? The experienceispleasurable for both parties, you know.”
“Ugh. You are insufferable!” Snatching up her cup, Margaret gulped down the rest of her tea in one unpalatable rush. Then she gathered up her skirts and stormed out of the room, leaving the half-full pot behind her along with her stubborn new, unwanted, and bloodthirsty partner in life.
Unfortunately for him, she had been forced into working with undesirable partners more than once before in her years of academic study. Those unpleasant experiences had taught Margaret one important truth: some debates simply couldn’t be won without sleep and hours of research beforehand.
She wasn’t giving up on this one.
A single nightof sleep could hardly gift her all the clarity and answers that she needed. Still, Margaret awoke the next morning to one significant realization: if she wished to survive her marriage, regardless of its length, she would have to find a reliable source of sustenance. Last night, she hadn’t spotted a single servant in the dusty manor house. She certainly wouldn’t trust any moldy old remnants she might find in that long-abandoned kitchen.
So, it was with a pleasing sense of purpose that she set off, once attired in more sensible clothing, to find the closest door to the outside world...
Only to be derailed before the first turning of the corridor by an unexpected set of odors.
Was that—couldthat be fried bacon somewhere nearby? And—her breath caught in longing—could that gently clinking sound of crockery possibly forebode...
“Tea?” She picked up her skirts to sweep around the corner—and nearly barreled into a moving figure.
“Your Ladyship.” Shifting neatly out of the way, a plainly dressed woman managed an impressive curtsy without losing her grip on the full breakfast tray she carried. “I was instructed by his Lordship to bring this to your room.”
