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Her Baseborn Bridegroom

Page 24

by Coldbreath, Alice


  “Are you going to sleep?” he asked suspiciously after a moment.

  “No,” murmured Linnet sleepily. She gently kissed his chest.

  “Why are you so tired?” he asked. “It’s not like you.”

  She didn’t bother to answer him. Just curled her fingers round his upper arm.

  “Usually this is the point where you annoy the living shit out of me with your ceaseless chatter,” he observed.

  Linnet raised her blurry gaze to his. “Well this time it’s you that’s the annoying one,” she grouched. “Let me sleep.”

  He frowned. “We should talk, Linnet.”

  “I’m so tired,” she yawned, gently thumping his chest. “You fell asleep on me last night.”

  He seemed to ponder this a moment. “True enough,” he conceded. “You can sleep. For now.”

  With a thankful sigh, she drifted off into a deep, dark slumber.

  XXXIV

  The door creaked and Linnet’s eyes flew open. Mason was coming through the door with a platter of fruit, a jug, and two goblets. The room was dark. She wasn’t sure how many hours had passed. There was a fire burning in the grate and he set the tray down, slipped out of his robe, and rejoined her in the bed.

  For some reason, she lay still as he curled around her.

  “Are you awake?” he asked in a quiet voice as his arm slid round her waist, drawing her back against him.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  There was a moment’s silence before he said. “I’m sorry Linnet.”

  She felt a moment’s panic. “For what?”

  “I couldn’t do it,” he said, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Not even for you.”

  “Couldn’t do what?” she asked faintly.

  His jaw tensed. “The noble thing.”

  Linnet tried to turn to look at him, but his grip on her tightened, holding her where she was. “The noble thing?” she repeated uncertainly.

  “Give you up. Not now. Not ever.”

  She absorbed this a moment, her heart thudding in her chest. He didn’t want to give her up.

  “That would not have been noble,” she said. “And that’s not what I wanted you to do.”

  She wasn’t sure he had even heard her. He certainly gave no indication that he had.

  “Here’s how it is, Linnet.” He gave her a slight shake. “You’re still my wife and . . . I’m keeping you.”

  Linnet decided to take a different approach. “Why?” she said. “Just tell me that.”

  “I already told you,” he said stubbornly. “You’re mine.”

  “But . . . I can’t uphold my part of the bargain anymore,” she said uncertainly.

  He gave a short laugh at that. “Oh yes you can. You’re still giving me sons.”

  “But . . . there’s no title anymore.”

  He shrugged.

  “I’m not an heiress,” she pointed out.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “But you still want me for a wife?”

  “Yes.”

  She lay still a moment, absorbing this. “Oh, very well,” she said at last.

  “‘Very well’?” he repeated with a slight edge.

  “If that’s what you want.”

  She felt him come up on his elbow behind her.

  “What of you?” he asked. “What do you want?”

  “I want to know what happened after I fainted,” she said firmly.

  He released her and she shuffled up into a seated position against the pillows, pulling the blanket up to preserve her modesty.

  “I picked you up,” he said drily, then reached behind him for a cup of wine for her and the plate of fruit.

  She took the wine and he placed the fruit on the covers beside her.

  “But how did you answer the Queen?”

  He stared at her a moment. “You heard my answer to the Queen,” he said with a frown.

  Now it was her turn to stare. “No I didn’t.”

  He took a swig of his own wine. “I answered the Queen. You turned pale as a ghost and fell to the floor in shock.”

  “I didn’t hear your answer to the Queen,” she said. “The room was spinning and turned black before I passed out.”

  He frowned. “Even if that’s true, it must be glaringly obvious how I answered, Linnet.”

  “I want to hear the words,” she persisted.

  He shrugged. “I said, ‘The marriage still stands.’”

  Linnet felt a ridiculous sense of disappointment.

  “Oh,” she said. To hide it, she took a sip of her wine. It tasted strong. She placed it on the side. When she turned back, Mason was still looking at her and he didn’t look very pleased.

  “I suppose Sir Maurency would have said something a lot more flowery,” he said with a thunderous frown.

  Linnet felt her face grow hot with embarrassment. “Why do you keep bringing him up?”

  He flung back the covers and sprang from the bed, reaching for his robe again. “Oh I don’t know, maybe because you’ve been in love with him for the past eleven years?” he said bitterly.

  “Where are you going?” asked Linnet in dismay.

  He didn’t answer her, merely strode across the bedchamber and slammed the door so hard behind him that it rattled in its hinges.

  Linnet felt a flash of anger and injustice. Snatching up the top sheet of the bed she wrapped it round herself like a toga and then, grabbing the biggest apple from the fruit bowl, she stormed into the adjoining room where Mason stood gazing moodily out of the window, and flung it at his head. It whizzed past his left ear and bounced off the wall before rolling to his foot. “Damn me, that female’s always throwing things,” complained Roland who sat in front of the fire playing cards with his father and Oswald. “She threw a candlestick at my head this afternoon.”

  “Good for her,” answered Oswald. “You deserved it.”

  “Well if it comes to that, Mason flung a goblet at my head yesterday and practically put a dent in the wall, so I suppose they’re well suited,” boomed Baron Vawdrey.

  Linnet ignored them. After all, she was a Vawdrey now, so she may as well get used to their ways. In fact, she thought, narrowing her eyes, maybe she should join them. It must be nice to speak exactly what was on your mind without flinching. She turned to Mason and pointed a finger in his direction.

  “That’s a ridiculous thing to say Mason Vawdrey!” she said loudly. “I was sheltered, not delusional!”

  “Oh,” he answered acidly, turning to face her. “And pray tell me, what should I have declared to the entire world to keep you happy?” he demanded, his hands on his hips.

  “Very well, I shall tell you,” she said, feeling a spark of anger. She folded her arms across her chest and took a deep breath. It was now or never. He would be disgusted, but she may as well take this opportunity to be totally honest. “What you should have said to the Queen was this: ‘I love this woman and I refuse to be parted from her, now or ever!’” Linnet’s chest heaved as the words flew from her tongue.

  “And . . . and ‘I don’t care about her bringing me no dowry . . . or the fact she’s plain and little with no womanly charms and has ugly red hair and is absolutely covered in hideous freckles!’”

  Her lip wobbled and suddenly it was all just too much. Linnet whirled on her heel and ran for the bedroom door as she felt the tears spilling over. She caught sight of Mason moving out of the corner of her eye, and desperately tried to get the door open before he caught her. Of course, she had no sooner wrenched on the door handle than he was upon her, his hands closing on her arms and spinning her round.

  “I would never say anything so fucking stupid!” he snarled. “I don’t care about the dowry,” he continued in a low, angry voice. He slashed one hand through the air. “I admit, that was why I married you in the first place, but it’s not the reason I want to stay married to you now!” He cursed and rubbed his face.

  “At least,” he hesitated. “I’m not even sure that I wasn’t affec
ted even then—” he broke off in confusion. “Almost from the first moment I clapped eyes on you . . . I felt protective of you.” He halted again with a scowl. “I know that doesn’t make sense and I probably didn’t act like it. But it’s the truth. And I knew I wasn’t good enough for you. But I married you anyway. And then . . . ” he hesitated and screwed up his eyes. “You were so . . . sweet,” he said the word almost as if pained him. “And you’d been so cheated in life, and no one understood you and yet . . . ”

  He swallowed and gazed down at his feet a moment before looking back up wonderingly. “You just gave me all that sweetness you’d stored up all those years as though I . . . as though I deserved it. And . . . almost in spite of myself, I found I wanted it. I wanted that sweetness so badly.” He looked up at her. “I still want it, Linnet. I want all of it. All to myself. And I’m having it. I don’t care what anyone else says. It’s all mine.”

  Linnet blinked. Oh my gods. Was he saying . . .? He was. He was saying he wanted her. Linnet Cadwallader. With all her flaws and freckles and all. She collapsed back against the door, staring up at him.

  “Well, I for one am heartily glad he never said that in front of everyone,” said Roland after a moment’s heavy pause. “He sounds like a fucking lunatic!”

  “Shut up Roland,” said Oswald mildly. “He’s not mad, just in love.”

  “So that’s what all this is about!” tutted Baron Vawdrey, his expression clearing. “Course I had my suspicions from the first. He was far too touchy about her. You could barely even mention the wench without him flying off the handle.”

  With an exclamation of irritation, Mason reached behind her and opened the bedroom door, pushing her back through it. As soon as he’d secured the door behind them she threw herself into his arms.

  “I love you,” she breathed fiercely. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear it, Mason but I do. I really do.”

  His arms closed around her tightly a moment and then he hoisted her up.

  “Oh no,” he said. “You’re not getting out of it that easily.”

  He strode over to the bed and dropped her onto the mattress where he started dragging the coverlet off her. Once he’d wadded it into a bundle and hurled it across the room, he pushed her back flat on the bed.

  “These freckles,” he said, running his hands over her skin. “I absolutely forbid you to try and get rid of them Linnet. I thought I’d made it clear to you that I love them. No more remedies, no more quackery, they’re part of you, and that makes them mine.”

  “Very well,” she said weakly. “If that’s how you feel.”

  “It is!” he snapped, swinging a leg over her waist to straddle her naked body. He ran his hands into her hair. “And your hair,” he said accusingly. “You fucking know I love your hair!”

  Linnet stared. “No . . . ” she said slowly. “I mean, I know you said you weren’t unduly bothered—”

  “Why do you think I hate it when you wear a veil?” he demanded angrily.

  “Um . . . because . . . ” She frowned. “I actually thought you just hated veils,” she admitted.

  “Because. I. Like. To. Look. At. Your. Hair. I like to touch it, too. Hadn’t you noticed?” He wrapped some of the silky length around his fingers and lightly tugged it so her face tilted up to his.

  “Uh . . . ” Now that she thought about it, he did touch her hair a lot. “I suppose that was a bit unobservant of me,” she admitted shakily.

  He nodded slowly. “And this body,” he said, his voice becoming richer. “I would not change a fucking thing about this delectable little body. I’m pretty sure I already told you this, Linnet.”

  “Um, you mean . . . the size of my chest?” she blurted. “But—”

  “Pretty sure I said I didn’t want one thing about you to change,” he growled.

  “Yes, but . . . I thought you were just being nice,” she said weakly.

  He laughed at that. A low, somewhat wicked laugh. “Nice?” he echoed. “Only you could think that about me, Linnet. I’m not nice. I just happen to be in love with you.”

  And just like that, Linnet’s insecurities seemed to just slide away right off her shoulders. She gazed up at him, feeling almost completely weightless.

  “Don’t cry,” he said, leaning in to kiss her gently on the lips. “I don’t like it when you’re upset. It makes me want to do crazy things, like kill people. Do you know how I felt when you fainted like that earlier? A couple of royal guards tried to reach you first.”

  He frowned as if remembering something.

  “What happened to them?” asked Linnet with misgiving.

  “I’m sure they’re fine,” he shrugged.

  Linnet gazed up at him. “You . . . you said you didn’t cause a scene, Mason,” she said, trying to sit up.

  He pushed her firmly back down. “I didn’t,” he said calmly. “They’re trained to bear arms. I doubt I hurt them. . . . Much,” he added as an afterthought.

  Linnet gaped up at him. It suddenly occurred to her that there must have been rather more to that business in the throne room than he’d let on. And that probably it had added more grist to the palace rumor mill.

  “Oh dear,” she muttered.

  He took hold of her left hand and held it before her face. “Which reminds me, wife,” he said. “Walking around without my ring is not acceptable behavior.”

  Even as she opened her mouth to explain, he was drawing a ring off his pinky finger and then threading it onto hers. “Lucky for you, your husband is the vigilant kind who misses nothing.”

  She glanced at her hand. “My ring! Where did you find it?”

  “In my bed,” he admitted. “Lucky thing you left it or I would have thought I’d been visited by a red-haired succubus in the night.” He smiled as she blushed. “I would never have had the nerve to tell you the wicked things she did to me.”

  Linnet cleared her throat. “It’s never seemed to me that you’re lacking in nerve, Husband.”

  He gave a low laugh and shifted down her body. “You’ve no idea, have you? You, Linnet, have reduced me to a quivering mess. A shadow of my former self.”

  “Me?” she yelped as he kissed her belly before shifting further south.

  He sighed against her womanhood. “Gods, but I love red hair,” he murmured.

  A hammering on the door jolted them both.

  “Go away!” roared Mason.

  “’Tis by royal command, Sir Mason.” shouted someone against the door. “The King has ordered your presence.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” he murmured angrily. “I’m taking care of my wife in here!”

  Linnet’s cheeks burned.

  “Lady Vawdrey is summoned also,” the voice answered with an apologetic cough.

  Mason rocked back on his haunches. “I’m getting heartily sick of life at court,” he growled.

  “We’d better go,” whispered Linnet.

  “Don’t look so frightened, Love,” he said a few moments later as he helped her back into her yellow silk dress. Cuthbert never had shown up with her trunk of clothes. “After all,” he added grimly. “They can’t strip you of anything else.”

  “They could,” she said quietly. “They could take the one thing that means the most to me in all the world,” she said, looking up at him.

  He closed his eyes a moment. “There you go again,” he said. “So sweet, I can hardly stand it.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his arms. Kissing the top of her head, he breathed out noisily. “If you mean me . . . ”

  “I do,” she sniffed.

  “They never could. I wouldn’t let them. Not even if it meant us leaving this entire kingdom behind us.”

  Linnet let him rock her a moment in his arms.

  “Believe me?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Sensible of you. Let’s go.”

  “Um . . . my hair . . . ”

  “Leave it,” he growled, taking her hand in his.

  XXXV
/>   It seemed to Linnet that there were an awful lot of people milling around as they followed the footman down the corridor. She clung to Mason’s hand and hurried to keep up with his long stride. The footman kept glancing anxious looks over his shoulder at them and then speeding up. She wasn’t sure if he was more scared of losing them or of Mason catching up with him. Her husband did look rather sinister, she recognized, as he prowled up the shadowy corridors with a menacing glint in his eye. As if aware of her thoughts, he brushed his thumb over her knuckles. She squeezed his fingers in reply. She had nothing to worry about, she reminded herself. They could always flee the country.

  To her surprise they weren’t taken to the throne room, but instead headed to the room where the Queen held her levee that morning. That room was empty—surprisingly empty—but this time the footman led them right to the door that led to the staircase out to the garden. They followed him down the steps, Mason’s hand at her waist. The garden was lit up with hundreds of candles like fairy lights, but instead of lingering here the footman led them straight down a torch-lit path, which went all the way down to the beach. There on the sand, a temporary bower had been set up with a fringed canopy and even two thrones. Linnet blinked to find the court moved to such a fanciful spot. If she wasn’t all churned up inside she was sure she would have been enchanted. In the shadows were dozens of courtiers, she realized as her eyes adjusted to the torch-light. Mason’s arm slipped round her waist, hugging her close to his side. There was a strange atmosphere of excitement quivering through the crowd.

  The King and Queen emerged from the crowd in silence and took their seats whereupon everyone bowed and curtsied. Linnet had just spotted her father- and brothers-in-law in the crowd, looking as uncertain as she. She her head now and gave her full attention to Queen Armenal, who had held up her hand to quiet the sudden excited murmur that had spread through the crowd. To her surprise, Mason did not release her but kept her firmly clamped to his side. She passed her own arm around his back to show they were united.

  “Your pardon, my lords and ladies, for changing tonight’s entertainment at such short notice,” said the Queen in her theatrical voice. “But you see, this morning’s ruling did not go to plan and I must redress the balance.” She turned to Mason and Linnet. “You are welcome Sir Mason. Lady Vawdrey, I hope you are recovered from your upset this morning.”

 

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