“That’s it,” he gasped, running a hand up and down one of her smooth thighs as his muscles rippled and clenched.
The bedframe creaked. He clenched his jaw against the pleasure she was giving him as they moved together in a tangle of limbs. Gods, he just wanted to lose himself in her body’s tight embrace.
Words flew out of his mouth, without his brain engaging. “Don’t hide from me like you did before.”
Her eyes widened. “When? I did not—”
“Last night. When you turned away from me,” he muttered, his eyes piercing her confused stare.
“Oh . . . ” she bit her lip, her body arching against his relentless rhythm.
“Please, Mason,” she whimpered.
“Yes?”
“I did not mean to shut you out,” she breathed raggedly. “Never, never, never . . . ”
“Don’t,” he groaned raggedly, his own eyes closing.
“Husband?”
For some twisted reason, he felt pure pleasure at being addressed thus whilst deep inside her.
“Wife,” he whispered huskily, lowering his brow until their foreheads touched.
For one moment, they both stared into each other’s eyes, hovering on the brink of bliss together, and then he felt her tip over the edge, her cunny tightening and convulsing around him until with a shout he found himself spilling inside her. Holy hells. He dropped his face into her neck and concentrated on keeping the top of his head intact. He felt Linnet’s knees squeeze into his still-moving hips as she gasped into his shoulder.
“Don’t move,” he rasped, desperate to maintain their physical connection.
In answer, her arms reached up to wind about his neck, holding him close. He felt the strangest ache in his chest, which didn’t dissipate until he wrapped his arms around her in return. They lay quiet and still, the only sound in the room their labored breathing. When he felt her gently start to stroke his hair he knew he should pull away, but didn’t.
Because he was a fucking idiot.
XV
Linnet had her first riding lesson two days later with Diggory in the long meadow. He brought a very steady mare called Fira for her, and a pony for Cuthbert named Cadby, who had rather more spirit. Linnet immediately fell for Fira, who had gentle eyes and a patient manner. Cuthbert and Cadby’s relationship was a lot more contentious, and Linnet’s little page was trodden on and bucked off twice before their lesson was done. Cuthbert seemed to take it all in good part, although Linnet found herself wincing more than once in sympathy.
“You got to show them who’s master,” Diggory told him sternly. He turned back to Linnet. “You’m doin’ very nicely miss. I mean, your ladyship.”
“Thank you, Diggory. I mean to practice every day.”
His eyes widened a bit at this and he scratched his head. “Don’t want you to overdo it, Lady Vawdrey,” he cautioned.
“Oh, I won’t, I assure you. I just mean to do a little.”
“Lady Linnet climbs her old tower every morning ten times before breakfast,” said Cuthbert, whose pony was now cantering in a wide circle on a leading string, while Linnet followed at a rather more sedate pace with Diggory holding onto the bridle. Fira’s legs were twice as long as Cadby’s so they kept pretty much apace.
“Twelve times this morning,” she announced proudly.
Diggory’s eyes bugged out again. “He’s never got you running soldier’s drills?”
“Pardon?”
He coughed. “The master.”
Linnet’s frown cleared. “Oh, I see! No, though perhaps I should ask him for some?” she suggested with a laugh.
Diggory blinked.
“It is merely my own pursuit in the improvement of my health,” she explained.
“Granny told her to,” puffed Cuthbert as his pony once again tried to dislodge him from his saddle.
“Oh the wise woman!” muttered Diggory. “Well, that’s different.”
“Why’s Rolfe stood watching our lesson?” asked Cuthbert indignantly over his shoulder. “Gawping at us! Hey Rolfe!”
Rolfe, who was polishing his pikestaff over by the fence, straightened up and levelled a glare at Cuthbert. “Doing my duty, master saucebox!” he shouted back promptly. He then bowed at Linnet and flushed all over his round, homely face.
“Hush, Cuthbert!” shushed Linnet hastily. “Sir Mason has asked for us to be accompanied by a guard every time we leave the castle. ’Tis a cautionary measure only.”
“What for?” asked Cuthbert rudely. “You’ve got me for your guard.” He puffed out his chest.
“Indeed I do,” Linnet smiled at him. “But sometimes husbands are a little overprotective.” She noticed Diggory was staring at this and rubbing his stubbly chin. “Are you married, Diggory?”
“Nay, my lady.”
“Diggory’s courting Gertie,” said Cuthbert slyly.
“Oh, indeed?” asked Linnet, noticing the tips of the groom’s ears had turned a dull red. “A very good girl, Gertie.”
Diggory shot a look of annoyance at Cuthbert and cleared his throat. “Oh, aye,” he mumbled. Linnet realized that men of all rank must not like discussing matters of the heart and sighed. She would ask Gertie how long they had been courting. Men were strange creatures.
After the riding lesson, they returned to the castle via the courtyard. Linnet made sure to nod and smile at any of the servants that she passed. Although some of them still looked alarmed at the sight of her, others at least were now smiling back at her and meeting her gaze as they bobbed their heads in greeting. Back at the castle she found a parcel had been sent from Mr. Hatton the cobbler. Inside was a very neat pair of ankle boots in brown leather and a pair of black-leather shoes with a strap that passed over the foot, which Linnet was thrilled with. These would do very well indeed! She sat down and wrote a note of thanks to the shoemaker and counted out the sum of money he was owed along with a tip for the speed with which her order was delivered.
After she had dispatched a servant into town to deliver the payment she settled to some further illustration of Sir Maurency’s tales. There was a chill in the air, so she had a fire lit in the grate and drew a warm shawl about her shoulders and lost herself amongst the vellum pages. A couple of hours had surely passed when Nan the maid knocked on the door and announced she had a visitor, which turned out to be Lady Enid Jauncey. Cuthbert had been snoozing on the window seat and sprang up to fetch refreshments from the kitchen. Linnet made haste to kiss her friend’s cheek and draw her to the fire.
“Enid! You are very welcome. Most welcome. Did you ride over alone?” Enid’s cheeks were flushed and she wore a deep-red dress which complemented her brown eyes and dark hair, which was braided into a coronet about her head and covered with a fine lawn veil.
“Indeed,” Enid agreed, returning her embrace. She held onto Linnet’s upper arms and peered into her face. “I think you have a good, high color today Linnet. You look very well,” she said approvingly.
Linnet blushed with pleasure. “Thank you. I have had my first riding lesson this afternoon. Please, sit down.”
Enid sat beside her on a cushioned bench. “And how did you find it?”
“I liked it very much. They found me a very patient horse.”
Enid laughed. “When you have found your seat you can try a more spirited mount.”
“Oh no, I am very happy with Fira and have no aspirations to be a great horsewoman. Only to be able to get out and about.”
“But what is this?” asked Enid, leaning forward to examine her manuscript. “Never say this is your own work, Linnet?”
“Oh, ’tis just something I do to occupy my spare time.”
“Oh, but these pages are very fine! Such beautiful penmanship. And the illustrations . . . they’re exquisite!”
“Thank you. It is the work of some several years now. I am illustrating the tales of Sir Maurency of Jorde.”
“What a lovely idea!” exclaimed Enid. “How very talented you are. It has been
some years since I read those tales. May I see your completed manuscript sometime?”
“Thank you. Yes, of course.” Linnet hesitated. “At the moment my husband has it. He has never read the tales before.”
“What a treat for him.”
“Er, yes,” agreed Linnet, though she had yet to see Mason turn one page of it and it had been on his bedside cabinet for well over a week now.
“Is this Sir Maurency? How funny, I always imagined him with flaxen hair.”
Linnet coughed. “In truth, I think I may have at the start of the story. I will have to go back and ink black over the finished pages.”
Enid gurgled with laughter. “How many years ago did you begin it?”
“When I was thirteen. Some eleven years ago.”
“Goodness! It really is a labor of love!”
“Yes, they were my father’s favorite. His confessor taught me to illustrate. He was a priest.”
“I suppose it was a source of solace when you were shut up in your tower?”
“Yes,” agreed Linnet absently. In truth, it had been more like an obsession of her every waking hour since her father died. It was at least a hundred pages of intricately decorated pages. Now she had so many other things in her life it had dwindled to a pleasurable pastime once again.
“Linnet?” Enid’s gentle voice broke her reverie.
“Your pardon. Ah, here come Cuthbert with some drinks.” Her page had brought apple wine and fruit pastries. “I only hope it can compare with The Bear’s hospitality,” she joked.
“Oh that awful place!” exclaimed Enid. “My mother-in-law was quite horrified when she heard Chilton had taken us there!”
Linnet laughed. “I am heartily glad he did. It was very educational.”
Cuthbert looked up from unloading the tray. “My master has said milady must have a posted guard now whenever she goes forth.”
“Goodness!” said Enid in dismay. “Not because of our visit to town, surely?”
Cuthbert gave a noncommittal shrug.
“Not that alone,” said Linnet quickly. “My husband is merely conscious of my safety. I’m afraid I am not a popular landowner amongst my tenants.”
“Why ever not?” asked Enid, helping herself to a pastry.
“My reputation as a peevish invalid and the heavy taxes my uncle levied in my name,” answered Linnet sadly. “I have much to make reparation for.”
“Well, that is hardly your fault,” said Enid defensively. “And ’tis most unfair if the people hold you accountable. I never had anything to do with the rent Lambert charged our tenants.”
“But you were married into your husband’s estate,” pointed out Linnet. “Cadwallader Castle has been in my family for generations.”
“Folks are coming round now they know you don’t have a humpback,” said Cuthbert helpfully.
“Thank you, Cuthbert,” Linnet said, with a frown. “But I’m sure I could have had a humpback and been a good landlord.”
“‘Sides,” said Cuthbert. “I heard someone say you’re much more agreeable now your husband takes a stick to you.”
The ladies gasped and Enid turned to Linnet in horror. “He doesn’t beat you?” she gasped.
“Of course not! Cuthbert, wherever did you hear such a wicked thing?”
“In the tavern,” her page responded, chewing on a grape.
“The tavern we went in the other day?”
He plucked another grape. “No, the one on the other side of town. I went with granny.”
“Well!” exclaimed Linnet. “What wicked lies! Who on in the world could have been spreading such rumors?”
“Servants, likely as not,” nodded Enid. “They thrive on salacious gossip. One time Lambert and I had a flaming row over dinner and my great-aunt from three towns away wrote to scold me about it the following month. She had heard about it from her tailor.”
Linnet thought uneasily of Mason kicking their bedroom door open that morning and the maid scurrying off. Is it possible the servants were drawing entirely the wrong conclusions? “That reminds me,” she said aloud. “Mr. Postner visited us this morning for my new wardrobe fitting.”
Enid clapped her hands. “Oh, I do hope you ordered your cloak in green. Green is said to be the most complimentary of all colors for redheads.”
Linnet frowned. “No, I don’t think we picked a single cloth in green. Mr. Postner was most fixated on shades of blue. He was quite insistent on the matter.”
“I daresay he knows what he is about,” shrugged Enid. “Chilton swears by him.”
“Will you stay to dinner, Enid?” Linnet asked politely. “Then you could meet my husband.”
“Oh no, I daren’t. Lady Jauncey will be simply furious if I am not home before dark.” She hesitated. “I think I should warn you, Linnet. She has been corresponding with your aunt.”
“Aunt Millicent?” Linnet lowered her goblet of apple wine.
“She is at court. I believe at first my aunt was very angry with her, but now they seem thick as thieves once more. Hardly a day goes by that she does not receive some missive from Lady Jevons.”
Linnet’s heart sank.
“I did not mean to worry you,” said Enid, looking concerned. “But only to warn you. As a friend.”
“No, I am heartily glad you did tell me,” answered Linnet truthfully. Even if it was worrying to hear.
XVI
Linnet was pleased when the head of the guard, Sir Lang, joined them for dinner that evening. He had some sad news about the loss of life of two of the men they had sent, as well as several wounded, but she was glad to hear what had become of them and vowed to find work for those who would return with injuries. Mason backed her up in this and Sir Lang was gratified and promised to pass this on to the families involved. He, Mason, Oswald, and Baron Vawdrey discussed King Wymer’s strategy throughout the three courses they were served and she listened and tried to follow as best she could. Sir Lang left directly after finishing his meal, but she was not offended, realizing he was not overfond of company. After he left, she found herself distracted thinking about those men who would be returning.
Her father-in-law spoke to her twice before she even realized he was addressing her. “I do beg your pardon, Lord Vawdrey,” she said hastily and gestured to the servant to refill his tankard with ale.
“You may as well call me father,” he said grudgingly.
“F . . . father?”
“Aye, father. Though it’s more than that bastard husband of yours calls me,” he added belligerently.
Linnet floundered, unsure if he was being insulting or referring to Mason’s illegitimacy. She darted a look at her husband, but he merely looked amused.
“You never gave me leave to address you as father,” he pointed out without rancor.
“Well, what do you want? A written invitation?”
“Nay, Father,” responded Mason easily. Baron Vawdrey grunted, but looked pleased.
Linnet looked across at Oswald, who was smiling faintly. What an unusual family she had married into! She wondered briefly how the younger brother Roland fitted into the equation. Instinctively she knew better than to ask. The last time she had brought his name up, Mason had not been happy. He was watching her now, she noticed belatedly with a start, and shot him a quick smile. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as though he realized she was thinking things he would not like. Linnet took a hasty sip of mead. After all, he had made it plain he did not want to hear her innermost thoughts! She refused to feel guilty about it!
“I hear you had a riding lesson this afternoon, Linnet.” Said Oswald politely. “Was it your first?”
Linnet cleared her throat. “Yes,” she answered. “I mean to add it to my daily regime.”
“Regime?”
“Yes, for I have a plan of action to improve my health.”
“Which is?” grunted Baron Vawdrey, squinting at her suspiciously. She tried not to notice his greasy beard and fingers as he wolfed down his breakfast far
e.
Linnet drew herself up and readied herself for ridicule. “I run up and down the steps of my tower. Twelve times today. Next week it will be thirteen.”
Her father-in-law snorted. “What the devil for?” he asked, not looking much interested.
“I’ve never heard of ladies doing such a thing,” added Oswald hurriedly. “To what purpose, Linnet?”
“To build stamina,” answered Mason before she could open her mouth.
“Never tell me you’ve got her running exercises, Brother!” cried Oswald with dismay.
“Nay, ’twas not Mason who recommended it,” cut in Linnet hastily as Gertrude thunked another plate of salad before her. “Thank you, Gertie.”
Mason lowered his own cup and looked at her shrewdly. “Mother Ames,” he guessed heavily.
“You’re not cross, Husband?” she asked anxiously. “Indeed, I think ’tis doing me some good.”
“No, I’m not cross,” he lowered his voice and planted a hand on the bench the other side of her, penning her in close to his side. “I find myself now somewhat reconciled to Mother Ames’ remedies.”
She blushed some more and glanced down at her neckline. Sadly, nothing looked any different to her. “I fear some must take longer to take effect than others,” she whispered.
“I don’t mind,” he answered, his own eyes dipping. “However long it takes. Or even if it takes no effect at all.”
Their eyes met and Linnet sucked in her breath. Did he mean he was happy with her the way she was? The moment held and stretched and it occurred to her that the room had turned very quiet. Snapping her gaze away, she noticed all the servants present were avidly watching from the sidelines. She wondered if any gossip would find its way to the tavern before the week was out.
“Um, I forgot to mention Husband, that we will be having a new alewife start with us next week,” she said loudly. “Or rather, an old one that has been reinstated to her position.”
Mrs. Wickers had been insistent, when she met with Linnet, that she was well enough to resume her duties in a supervisory role, and Linnet agreed that she could.
Mason shrugged a shoulder. “You did mention something to that effect,” he said, returning to his plate.
Her Baseborn Bridegroom Page 17
