Her Baseborn Bridegroom (Vawdrey Brothers Book 1)

by Alice Coldbreath

  Mason shrugged a shoulder. “You did mention something to that effect,” he said, returning to his plate.

  “You do not mind, do you?” she asked a little anxiously. “Only Sir Chilton seemed to think—” she broke off in dismay, realizing her mistake.

  “What did Sir Chilton seem to think?” asked Mason with an edge to his voice.

  She gulped. “That I ought not to make such arrangements without checking with you first,” she answered.

  He was quiet for a moment, before reaching for his ale. “You are mistress here, Linnet,” he answered calmly. “The castle staff are under your sway. When I return to court you will be left in charge for months on end.”

  Linnet felt her spirits plummet. Months on end? Left alone again in the castle. Her throat throbbed and she had a terrible feeling her eyes would fill with tears if she did not say something quick. “Of course, I had not thought of that.” She sent a blank smile to her brother-in-law who looked concerned. Mason did not turn his head to look at her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and stared at her plate a moment before a thought occurred to her, and she turned impulsively towards him. “But first you must get me with child,” she reminded him earnestly. It would not be so bad to be left without him for months on end if she had a baby to care for.

  Mason choked on his meat and turned an incredulous gaze on her. “Linnet!”

  “But you said—” she broke off her words at his annoyed expression.

  “The chit’s quite right,” broke in Baron Vawdrey, nodding his head. “No point tiptoeing round the issue. You need an heir to inherit all this.” He gestured around the room with his chicken leg bone. “What if she were to be fetched off with a sweating sickness while you’re at court waiting on the King? What of my grandson, the Duke then, eh?” he demanded. “While it’s true enough the castle and lands would be yours, and you could soon take another wife, what of the title in abeyance? Answer me that? What—”

  “She is not going to get sweating sickness!” said Mason harshly. He stood up. “Do not—” He bit off his words angrily and pressed his fist to his mouth. “Do not speak of this in front of me again,” he said after a moment’s silence, his eyes glittering. “Are you trying to—?” Once again his words broke off as he seemed to struggle with his line of thought.

  Linnet gaped up at him.

  “Father,” said Oswald hurriedly. “Apologize.”

  “What the devil for?”

  “You’ve upset Mason.”

  “Upset him?” Their father looked bewildered. “He needs to be practical about these things! Wives are exactly like livestock . . . ”

  Mason slammed his fist against the table. “Cease talking!” he shouted. “I’ve had enough of this.”

  Linnet clambered hastily to her feet and placed a palm against his back. “You’re quite right,” she said hurriedly. “I’m healthier than I’ve ever been and I’m quite convinced there was nothing really wrong with me in the first place!” She stroked his back soothingly. “Please don’t be upset.”

  He gave her an odd look at this and then cast his eyes heavenwards, as if appealing for strength. Reluctantly, he took his seat again and Linnet sat back down with relief. Of course, she might already be with child, she thought hopefully. Although she had the suspicion it could take several months of marriage to achieve such a desired outcome. After all, her aunt and uncle had been married for years and years and had never had issue. Dolefully, she remembered Enid’s words about her aunt and Lady Jauncey corresponding. It seemed rather ominous somehow. She pushed her food around the plate. But, after all, there was nothing they could actually do, now she was safely married? Surely?

  XVII

  So distracted was Linnet that she scarcely noticed Mason had followed her up to their bedchamber directly after supper. Closing the door firmly behind them he unbuckled his belt and started unlacing his tunic. “Strip.”

  Linnet cocked her head to one side and looked at him in frowning consideration a moment, before deciding he was serious. Then, with a shrug, she started unfastening her dress.

  “Is this because I rose before you?” she asked uncertainly. “Or because I was not awaiting you on your return to the castle . . . ”

  “That too,” he agreed abruptly.

  She stared at him a moment as he sent a boot skittering across the floor, closely followed by the other. When he was down to his braies, he prowled across the room towards her and helped yank her skirts over her head, followed by her shift and undergarments. He left her bright-yellow hose intact, tied above her knees with red bands. He surveyed her near nudity with satisfaction before backing her up against the door.

  “You’re mine,” he said darkly against her ear. Then he pulled back, looking at her through unfathomable, dark eyes. “Now you say it, Linnet.”

  She leant up on her tip toes, bringing her mouth close to his ear. “You’re mine,” she whispered and felt him go still before his breathing caught. When she leant back he had the strangest, conflicted look on his face. But he’d wanted to hear the words, she thought in puzzlement. Hadn’t he?

  “Let’s try again,” he said tightly. “I’m yours,” he uttered, barely able to meet her confused gaze.

  Wasn’t it the same thing? Why did he look like that?

  “Linnet?” Something about his tone brought her out of her thoughts sharply.

  “I’m yours,” she said simply and his gaze snapped to hers. He stared at her mouth a moment as if concentrating. “Again,” he said abruptly.

  This was what he wanted? Linnet’s mouth almost fell open in surprise. “I’m yours,” she said hastily when he began to look tense.

  Still breathing hard, he dropped to his knees before her and circled her slim thighs with his large brawny hands. “Open your legs,” he said, urging them apart.

  Linnet placed a hand on his dark hair and wove her fingers through the wavy strands as he started raining gentle kisses on her inner thighs. He hadn’t been this gentle since their wedding day, she thought. And she liked it. Just as much as when he wasn’t. She sighed and leant back against the door as his warm mouth moved up and up.

  “Pretty,” he said when he reached the red hair on her pussy. Catching her by the back of her knee he hooked it over his shoulder, opening her to him further. “Don’t fall,” he said huskily. “Lean back against the door.”

  Then with a deep groan, his mouth was there, licking and sucking at her slit, making her catch her breath and whimper as he took his time with her, teasing her pearl and bringing her to her peak. Linnet’s back arched as she craned to get closer to his wonderful mouth. When she cried out, her fingers tightening on his scalp, he growled and gently sucked her through the aftershocks. Then when she was completely boneless, he straightened up and caught her up in his arms where he held her tightly against him, her back still pressed to the door, his breathing ragged in her ear.

  “Wrap your legs around me, Linnet.” His thumbs brushed against her cheeks and he kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, her mouth. “You keep—I don’t know.” His words broke off.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I don’t really know,” he repeated with a small shake of his head. “Forget I said it.”

  “You didn’t really . . . well, say anything,” she pointed out gently, stroking the back of his neck. He was silent a moment. “Linnet,” he whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “Let’s put that honey on your tits again.”

  “Honey?” She frowned. “You mean the salve?”

  “Salve, right. I meant the salve.”

  “Do . . . do you think they look any bigger to you?” she asked, glancing down.

  He lifted his head. “Do you want to know the truth?” He moved his mouth to her ear. “I’d be disappointed if anything changed about you Linnet. Anything at all.”

  Linnet sucked in a breath, her mind reeling as he carried her over to the bed and made love to her with the thoroughness she was starting to expect from
him.

  It would be very dangerous, she thought in the aftermath, to fall in love with a husband who was going to leave her for months on end. She remembered Enid’s words about her late husband Lambert, who had been her beloved companion and best friend. How wonderful it must be to have that. But poor Enid, to then have it so cruelly snatched away.

  “How is it that Oswald has never married?” she murmured into Mason’s chest and felt him stiffen. They were lying propped up on pillows, half-draped over each other.

  “Why?”

  “I just wondered.” She frowned. “I mean, he is older than you . . . I thought Enid Jauncey might be a very good wife for him. She’s a young widow. And terribly nice. And beautiful,” she added wistfully. “I would like to have her for a sister.”

  She felt him relax beside her, though he gave a short laugh. “Not sure those are considerations my father would think relevant.” He paused. “It’s because of father that Oswald’s not married,” he added, his hand coming up to stroke her hair gently, massaging her scalp.

  It felt so nice, Linnet closed her eyes.

  “He arranges betrothals and drops them again at the drop of a hat. It’s all about alliances and power with him. Oswald’s had many engagements. By proxy of course. I doubt he’s met any of them. As soon as that family falls from favor or their fortunes take a turn for the worse, it’s broken off.”

  “Why doesn’t Oswald choose his own bride?” She frowned, running her thumb down Mason’s ribcage.

  “I suppose he’s not in any rush,” shrugged Mason.

  She bumped her ear against his chest. “Keep still, I’m comfortable.”

  She heard his rumble of laughter coming deep from his chest. “Oswald is the heir,” he continued lightly. “So naturally he’s father’s ace card. He’s wanted to keep him close at hand.”

  “I suppose that’s why Baron―I mean, father―never betrothed him to me. Because he thought I was only good enough for his youngest son,” she murmured thoughtfully.

  “Linnet,” he said tightly and suddenly rolled her onto her back where she blinked up at him. “Why is it that you keep rushing in where angels fear to tread?” he asked silkily, his eyes hard. His hands either side of her head, caging her in with his big body.

  “I keep forgetting that you don’t want to hear my thoughts,” she answered truthfully. “I keep thinking I can tell you anything.”

  He stared down at her. “Why the hell would you want to do that?”

  “Because—”

  “Don’t answer that,” he cut her off, and abruptly rolled onto his back beside her.

  He stared up at the ceiling as Linnet swallowed this fresh rejection beside him. She was so stupid. Why did she keep forgetting? Fools rush in where angels fear to tread, she remembered belatedly. Her husband was calling her a fool. And telling her he didn’t want any intimacy with her that wasn’t purely physical. She really needed to get that through her thick skull. Until she did, it was going to keep hurting. She bit down on her trembling bottom lip.

  “Linnet,” he said sounding frustrated. “Maybe we should try perfect silence after I’ve bedded you. Everything’s well, up until you start talking.”

  Linnet gasped but when she started to sit up, his hand shot out, anchoring her to his side.

  “I didn’t say I wanted you to move, wife.”

  A hammering on the door made them both jump.

  “What the bloody hell!” shouted Mason, releasing her and springing out of the bed. He prowled to the door entirely naked.

  Linnet fell back on the pillows. She pulled the sheet up to her chin as he yanked the door open viciously.

  “A summons from the King,” pronounced a messenger in a feathered hat from the doorway. One of their own servants stood next to him, looking pale and scared. Though whether that was because of the royal summons or because of her naked, fuming husband was debatable.

  “Give it here,” Mason growled, snatching it from the messenger’s gloved hand.

  He tore open the scroll and marched to the nearest candle, where his eyes scanned the page. Linnet’s startled glance went from the embarrassed messenger and gawking servant to Mason’s rigid and furious face. She moistened her lips.

  “What is it?” she whispered, wondering what could cause him to look so enraged. Had he been called back to the battlefield? Had the North uprisen again? A hundred possibilities clamored in her brain.

  “We’ve been summoned to court,” he said grimly. “Sir Jevons and my brother have petitioned the King for an annulment of our marriage.”

  XVIII

  The next hour was a blur of activity. Servants yelling, trunks being stuffed with clothes, maids crying. Well, actually it was Nan crying when Linnet decided it would be easier for her to take Gertie with her as her personal maid. Cuthbert had a temper tantrum when she suggested he might be better off staying at home. Mason had grabbed him by the ear until he’d stopped yelling.

  “Can your grandmother read?” he had asked. Cuthbert’s tearstained face nodded. “Then write her a note and tell her you’ll be a couple of weeks at court.” Cuthbert’s face had been wreathed in smiles in an instant.

  “Send word down to the stables to have the horses ready in an hour!” Mason had shouted as Robards ran hither and thither with a long list and a harassed expression on his face. Clattering boots on the stair had announced her brother-in-law and father-in-law’s arrival in the great hall.

  “Is this true?” bellowed Baron Vawdrey. “I’ll have his hide for this!”

  Presumably he meant his youngest son, Sir Roland.

  “We will, of course, accompany you,” said Oswald who looked shocked. “And show a united family front.”

  “Apart from Roland,” seethed Mason, his face darkening.

  Linnet could only be glad her footwear had arrived in time, though sadly none of her new wardrobe would be ready. She would have to borrow a cloak again for the journey, she thought sadly. And the one Mr. Postner had planned for her had sounded so perfect too. A sobbing Nan helped her pull on thick woolen stockings and her new ankle boots.

  “Nan, I won’t be gone for long and I will bring you a present back, I promise,” she murmured soothingly. “’Tis only that Gertie is older and more experienced. That is the only reason. Next time I will definitely take you along.”

  “You promise, milady?” sniffed Nan, looking up through her pale-blue eyes.

  “I do.”

  “We have plenty of work for you to be doing while the master and mistress are away, my girl,” blustered Robards crossly. He tutted at the scene the maid was causing. “Her ladyship has enough on her mind without reassuring the likes of you!”

  “It’s quite alright, Robards,” muttered Linnet, though sadly it was true. She was in a blind panic about going to court. Due to her supposed ill health she had never even been presented and had no idea what to expect!

  Gertie came hurrying over with the housekeeper’s cloak for her to borrow once again. Linnet was pleased she had remembered to order a new one for Mrs. Perkins, considering how much she was using her current one!

  Robards clapped his hands. “These trunks are to be carried out and loaded on the wagon,” he shouted. “Make haste!”

  Linnet looked around distractedly for Mason but he must have already gone out to the stables.

  Cuthbert appeared before her with a furred hood and gloves. “Because ’tis cold milady, travelling at night,” he explained. She didn’t ask who he had begged, borrowed, or stolen them from.

  “How long will it take us to reach court?” Linnet asked Oswald, who was strapping on his sword.

  “Court is currently being held at Caer-Lyonnes,” he answered her. “It is a two-day ride at least, if not three, depending on the weather and circumstances of travel.”

  “Caer-Lyonnes,” she echoed. “Is that not the King’s castle by the sea?” In spite of herself Linnet felt a shiver of excitement. She had never seen the sea before.

  “Indeed it is
and a very fine royal palace,” conceded Oswald. “’Tis a shame you’re not seeing it under happier circumstances.”

  Linnet’s face fell. “Yes,” she agreed sadly.

  Robards appeared in the hall, out of puff. He clutched his side as if he’d run all the way from the stable. “The master wants you outside, milady. He wants you on his horse up before him.”

  She had wondered if she would be expected to ride Fira, but after only lesson that would have been rather a tall order. She nodded, and with a quick backward look over her shoulder, let her gaze linger on the two standards hanging from the ceiling—the black Vawdrey panther and the golden leopard of the Cadwalladers.

  She only hoped they would still be proudly displayed side-by-side when next she returned to her home.

  XIX

  The next three days’ journey was exhausting and, while it was true that she saw more of Karadok in seventy-two hours than she had in the previous twenty-four years, the novelty of travel wore off very quickly for Linnet. She was dusty, aching all over, and weary to the bone by the time they finished the first leg of their journey. Mason was a hard taskmaster and they had ridden all through the night and the next day before they were permitted to stop at an inn.

  That pattern was repeated the next day with only hurried stops for snatched meals and hard beds in coaching inns. She had no sooner fallen in bed and rolled into her husband’s warm body than she was fast asleep and then shaken awake at daybreak for the next stretch. Mason was uncommunicative, he barely spoke and simmered on a slow-burning rage for the most part, but he held her very close in the dark, and she took comfort from that if nothing else.

  Their party was far from a merry one. Oswald looked tense and miserable; Baron Vawdrey, bad-tempered; and Cuthbert, fractious and whiny for all he had so badly wanted to come. Only Gertie seemed determinedly cheerful, and she had confided in Linnet that was because she had heard you could buy very fine lace at Caer-Lyonnes and she wanted some for her bridal veil. Linnet tried to take that as a positive omen.

  It was not long past noon on the third day that Mason squeezed her waist and pointed wordlessly into the distance. She sat up, expecting the tall soaring towers of the royal palace but instead saw just a vast, blue shimmering haze.