Her Baseborn Bridegroom

by Coldbreath, Alice

  Linnet caught sight of Gertie, who was arm-in-arm with Diggory the groom. They waved before disappearing into an orange tent which contained the pig roast that Johnny Wickers and the rest of the staff from The Bear were serving so the kitchen staff could also enjoy the day’s celebrations.

  “They’re raising the banns tomorrow in the village church,” Linnet told Mason. “I hope you don’t mind, but I told Gertie we’d attend in the family pew.”

  “There’s a Cadwallader pew?” asked Mason. After all, the castle had its own private chapel. They had had their wedding vows blessed there that very morning.

  “Oh yes, it’s carved with leopard heads and everything, apparently. It’ll be my first time seeing it too. My great-grandfather commissioned it.”

  “Which reminds me,” said Mason, coming to a halt. He reached into his pocket. “I have something for you.”

  Linnet sent him a bewildered look as he took her left hand and slipped the cracked panther ring from her finger. In its place, he slid a much snugger-fitting ring. Linnet watched as he placed the small Vawdrey crest ring back onto his smallest finger. He winked at her. “This one will always remind me of you now,” he said.

  Linnet gazed down at the round, blue, onyx signet ring on her third finger. It was set in gold and was very solid. On the left side was a leopard rampant, the sigil of the Cadwalladers, and on the right, the Vawdrey panther reared up to meet the leopard in perfect symmetry—a commemoration of their union.

  “You won’t be in any danger of losing that one,” he said when words completely failed her.

  “Oh, Mason, it’s beautiful,” she whispered. “When did you—?”

  “At Caer-Lyonnes,” he preempted her. “There’s a royally appointed jeweler there. He promised to have it ready in time for our wedding feast.”

  “I love it,” Linnet said, swallowing a lump in her throat. She reached for her chatelaine. “I have something for you also,” she unclipped a large, antique, gold, seal ring and passed it to him. “It was my grandfather’s. Now you’re the Duke of Cadwallader you can use it for sealing your letters and authorizing things.”

  She watched as he turned it over, examining the molding which would leave the leopard crest on any wax seal.

  “I’m afraid it’s rather unwieldy, my father always wore it on a chain—” she broke off as he slid it onto a finger where it looked perfectly at home. “He was a much smaller man than you,” she acknowledged with a small laugh.

  “Thank you, my love” he said, gently pulling her forward. He placed a hand on her still-flat belly.

  She knew it wasn’t just the ring he was thanking her for.

  “It looks like it was made for you,” she said, looking down and tracing the engraving with her finger.

  “You were made for me, Lady Vawdrey,” he corrected her.

  “I was,” she agreed, placing her hand on top of his. “And to think it was three months ago to a day that you came riding up to my castle gates,” she sighed and leant into him. “My unwitting bridegroom.”

  His arms came around her at once.

  “And to think,” he echoed lightly. “I thought it just an irritating errand. Little did I know my destiny was waiting here for me.” He tipped her face up and gazed down at her a moment before kissing her lingeringly on the lips.

  When he drew back he was frowning. “Though when I remember now how boldly you propositioned me . . . ” He shook his head. “I do not think our daughters will be meek.”

  “Daughters?” spluttered Linnet.

  “Aye wife, daughters.”

  “I thought it was three sons you demanded of me?”

  “Sons or daughters,” he shrugged. “We’ll raise them together and love them the same.”

  Linnet blinked as her eyes became wet. She raised her hand to touch his cheek.

  “Yes, we will,” she agreed softly.

  He clasped her wrist a moment, holding her hand cradled to his jaw. Linnet dimly became aware of the fact that they were drawing many curious gazes. She marveled, not for the first time, at how comfortable Mason was to show his regard for her to all and sundry. It didn’t seem to bother him one whit, and it made her happily anticipate what kind of father he would make.

  “You’re tired,” said Mason firmly. “It’s time for you to take your afternoon rest. Then you’ll be fresh for the feasting this evening.”

  “I suppose so,” agreed Linnet ruefully.

  “You can hear the ballad singers then. They’re engaged for the entire event.”

  “Oh, really? All the entertainers?”

  He nodded.

  “Will we all fit in the great hall?”

  “That’s Robards’s problem,” said Mason callously. “Come along. Back to the castle.”

  As Linnet threaded her arm through his, they made their way back towards their rooms in a leisurely manner.

  The ancient arms of the Duke of Cadwallader fluttered in the breeze above the ramparts, and Linnet watched it with satisfaction. She would ask the Queen about getting the Vawdrey panther added to their crest at some point. After all, her name and the name of their children would be Vawdrey, even if the title was Cadwallader.

  “Are you sure you want to accompany me?” she asked slightly anxiously as he followed her up the steps to their private chambers. “I think Sir Lang would have liked you to have stayed with the men for longer.”

  “We’re not returning to court for two months at least, Linnet.” he pointed out. “There’s plenty of time for me to become better acquainted with the men.”

  “True enough,” she agreed as he shut the door firmly behind them.

  He helped her step out of the beautiful blue silk dress that Mr. Postner had made especially for the occasion and draped it over a chair as he stripped off his tunic.

  “Unbraid your hair, Linnet,” he said as she stepped out of her slippers. “It can’t be comfortable to lie on.”

  Which was true enough, but really they both knew he just liked to see it loose. She reached up to start removing the pins, as he climbed on the bed and lay back to watch her. Her rosy blush travelled down her neck to her breasts as she tried to concentrate on untangling her hair fastenings rather than the fact her husband was ogling her near-naked form in her see-through shift with every evidence of approval.

  “Here,” he patted the bed. “Come over here. I’ll help you.”

  She perched on the edge of the bed before shuffling closer to him, turning her back, and drawing her knees up to her chest so that he could see the braided coronet up close. The minute his fingers touched her hair she dropped her chin to her collarbone and squeezed her eyes shut. She loved it when he touched her hair.

  “Hold still,” he said in a low voice and stretched his legs out either side of her so she was in the V of his thighs.

  He slid his fingertips into her hair, stroking her scalp as he slowly withdrew the silver pins until he had a pile of them on the mattress beside them. Then he untied the ribbons and added them to the pile, untwisted the braids, all in the same unhurried fashion, until finally he was just running his fingers in circles over her head, her red-gold hair sweeping down in a long curtain to her middle back.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured and then drew her shift up over her head and lay her back against the mattress, looking down at her.

  “Gertie will never have time to braid it all again before this evening,” she told him with a small smile, her eyes drifting shut. She felt so relaxed.

  “Good,” he said. “Roll to the left, Linnet” he told her in a soft murmur.

  Linnet rolled onto her side and frowned up at him in confusion.

  He gave a satisfied smirk. “Hold it right there,” he told her. “And don’t move an inch.”

  She squinted up at him as the sunlight from the window was now falling right across her and into her eyes. “What? Why?”

  He ran the back of his hand across her bare buttocks. “I want freckles here,” he said distractedly.

 
Linnet gasped. “What?” she tried to sit up, but he leant forward to pin her in place with his body. “You’re moving,” he told her with a frown.

  She gaped at him. “Well, yes! I don’t want any freckles there,” she protested hotly.

  “Why? No one will see them but me. And I like them.”

  He rolled onto his back and pulled her onto him so she was astride his hips. She could feel the sun again on her bare backside.

  She twisted round. “Mason! Are you deliberately trying to cultivate more freckles on my body?” she gasped in disbelief.

  He grinned. “Yes.”

  “Husband, you are mad. Quite mad!”

  “Hmmm, maybe” he agreed lazily. “Mad about my leopardess’s spots. Kiss me, Linnet.”

  Linnet sighed happily. And did just that.

  THE END

  COMING SOON IN 2017:

  Vawdrey Brothers Book 2—Oswald’s story.

  If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving me a rating on Goodreads or Amazon or wherever you purchased this book.

  Also, please do check out some of my other stories!

  Many thanks, Alice.