“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 sat 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 done 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 long of intricately decorated pages. Now she had so many other things in her life it had dwindled 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 non-committal shrug.
“Not that alone,” said Linnet quickly. “My husband is conscious of my safety only. I’m afraid I am not a popular landowner among my tenants.”
“Whyever 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 hump-back,” said Cuthbert helpfully.
“Thank you Cuthbert,” frowned Linnet. “But I’m sure I could have had a hump back 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 and 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 over fond 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 a
nd fingers as he wolfed down his breakfast fare.
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 of it 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 ale-wife start with us next week,” she said loudly. “Or rather an old one that has been reinstated to her position.” When she had met with Mrs Wickers she had been insistent that she was well enough to resume her duties in a supervisory role and Linnet had agreed she could.
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 toward 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 toward her and helped yank her skirts over her head, followed by her shift and under-garments, though he left her bright yellow hose in-tact, 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 showed signs of tension.
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 a 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.
Her Bastard Bridegroom: A Medieval Romance Page 17