Her aunt’s face fell. “Oh I don’t think that’s a good notion at all, my dear. Not with your precarious health.”
“I’ve told you, aunt, my health is excellent,” said Linnet forcefully. She turned to Lady Doverdale. “As my current guardian, would you be so kind as to consider such a request?” she asked.
Her aunt made a choked sound of rage and a small smile appeared on Lady Doverdale’s face. She inclined her head. “I will consider it.”
“Thank you,” answered Linnet with satisfaction. “Goodbye aunt,” she said pointedly and stepped around her aunt.
“Wait! I mean, but where are you going? I insist that you return to your bed to recover from your journey!”
Linnet waved a vague hand and continued on her way, doggedly ignoring her aunt’s shrill tones which continued to echo up the avenue.
Lady Doverdale inhaled a deep breath. “Perhaps you should tell me about this time you spent shut up in a tower?” she suggested grudgingly.
XXIV
Mason had returned to his quarters after the frustrating interview with Lord Schaeffer. He found his father there full of fury and railing about Roland who it seemed was holed up with the Jevons’ in their chambers.
“Wouldn’t even see me!” he bellowed. “His own father! Skulking along with that pair of weasels like a – like their little lapdog!”
Oswald tutted and poured wine for all of them.
Mason took his wordlessly. In truth, he didn’t wonder that Roland was giving them a wide-berth. Probably the wisest thing the little swine could have done.
“Roland’s being manipulated by the Jevons’,” Oswald said in his most reasonable voice. “We all know that.”
“Young fool!” spat his father angrily. “I ought to tan his hide!”
Mason rubbed his eyes and winced.
“What’s up with you?” grunted his father.
“Didn’t sleep,” he answered brusquely.
“Out whoring were you?” snorted his father. “Well I’ve no symp-“
“No, I was not out whoring,” roared Mason, flinging his goblet of wine across the room so hard it bounced off the wall and rolled all the way back to his feet. “For fuck’s sake!” He glared at his father. “I couldn’t sleep because I am in danger of losing my wife which is something you wouldn’t have the first fucking clue about even if you have been married three times. Because let me explain this to you father,” his voice was trembling with rage, and he only managed to lower his voice with the greatest of effort. “Wives are not like live-stock and you do not breed them like horses. And if you ever speak of Linnet dying of a disease again, so help me, I will-”
“Mason,” Oswald had stepped in front of him. “Mason, calm down. Calm down, Mason.”
The red mist obscured almost everything for a moment, but after a few seconds he managed to see his brother’s mouth moving and realized he was talking to him. Mason shook his head and let Oswald shove him back into a chair. He went hot, he went cold. He could suddenly hear again.
His brother was talking sharply to their father, “If you haven’t got anything useful to say just keep your mouth shut for fuck’s sake,” he scolded.
And suddenly that struck Mason as the funniest thing he had heard in years. His prim and proper brother cursing his sire out. He started to laugh and then found he couldn’t stop. Oswald and Baron Vawdrey stared. Tears rolled down his face, his ribs hurt.
“I’m getting a physician,” yelped their father backing out the room. “He’s gone raving mad!”
Oswald shut the door after him and shot a look of concern at Mason. “Listen to me Mason,” he urged. “This whole business is going to be resolved. You need to keep your head.”
Mason covered his face with his hand. “I’ve made a mess of everything,” he groaned.
“What’s that?” Oswald looked if anything even more worried. “You mean with Lord Schaeffer?”
“No, not him. With Linnet.”
“Linnet?”
Mason scrubbed his eyes, unable to speak.
Oswald had crouched down before him. “Mason, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Linnet thinks the sun rises and sets with you.”
“You didn’t read that fucking book.”
Oswald looked bewildered. “Book? What book?”
“Sir bloody Maurency of Jorde.”
Oswald’s expression cleared. “I have read that book Mason,” he corrected him crisply. “It’s a popular book. What has that to do with anything?”
“That’s what she thinks a knight is.”
Oswald sighed. “I’m sure even Linnet would realize that is a highly romanticized version of a knight,” he pointed out. “I’m getting you a drink.” He picked up the goblet which now had a huge dent in the side of it. Putting that back down, he picked up Baron Vawdrey’s abandoned wine and passed that to Mason with an awkward pat of his shoulder.
Mason tipped it back and swallowed the wine down. “It’s not just the book,” he admitted, not meeting Oswald’s gaze.
His brother took his cup and refilled it before passing it back to him. Then he fetched the jug and placed it on the low table between them and pulled up a chair. “Tell me,” he said simply.
“You remember,” said Mason slowly. “The day after I was married? When all I cared about was counting how much wealth Linnet had bought me? And you said-“ he broke off to rub his temple. “You said that I should have given her soft words. And I laughed, like the bastard I am and said I had only married her for her money -“ He found himself unable to speak another word and took another gulp of wine instead.
Oswald waited patiently a moment but then realized nothing else was forthcoming. “I do remember Mason,” he said steadily. “I think I probably remember it better than you. Do you know why?”
Mason shook his head.
“Because I realized, even at the time that you were full of shit, brother,” said Oswald ruefully. He settled back into his seat with a soft laugh. “I remember I said something about even ugly women deserving kindness and your eyes blazed up with murder and you accused me of being jealous. Do you remember?”
“No,” said Mason dully. “Call her ugly again and I’ll kill you.”
Oswald ignored him. “Then you went haring straight up to her and didn’t emerge until supper time when she hung off your every word and clearly thought you were the hero of the hour.”
“I need to get drunk,” said Mason pouring himself another wine.
“And let’s face it, you’ve been like a dog with a bone with her from day one. Anyone so much as looks at her too long and you growl. You’re insanely possessive.”
Mason shifted in his seat. Well, that might be true enough. “Are you going to join me?” he held up the jug.
“I think one of us should keep a clear head. Besides, you know I can’t hold my ale.” Oswald watched him take another deep draught of wine. “What I’m trying to say is this, brother. That even if you thought your motivation in marrying Linnet was unprincipled, I don’t think you were aware of what truly compelled you.”
Mason frowned. “Which was?”
“You took one look at Linnet and saw your future.”
XXV
Linnet was in her temporary bedchamber braiding her hair when she heard the soft knock on the door. Something about how lightly the knuckles grazed the door made her pause. She remembered Mason telling her to always be accompanied so she crept to the adjoining dressing room where Gertie and Cuthbert were now bedded down and called softly to her maid. Gertie woke at once only being in a light doze.
“What is it milady?” she whispered.
“Someone’s at my door,” said Linnet. “It’s not Lady Doverdale and I don’t dare answer it in my nightgown in case it’s a stranger…”
Gertrude’s mouth set determinedly and she marched through the other room to wrench the door open. “Oh sir, it’s you,” she whispered and turned back to Linnet who was hurrying to join her. To her surprise it was Osw
ald at the door.
He looked slightly embarrassed. “Can I come in?” he whispered.Gertie opened her mouth to deny him, but Linnet opened the door wider and he slid in. “Linnet, I realize this is highly irregular…”
“What is it? Not Mason?” She felt something clutch at her chest.
“He’s not doing so well,” admitted Oswald looking pained.
“Is he sick?” her voice rose an octave.
“Shhhhh!” cautioned Gertie.
“Heartsick maybe. And I’m not going to lie to you, drunk.”
“You’ve come to tell her the master’s drunk?” asked Gertie in disgust.
Linnet shushed her maid. “Is he missing me?” she asked with a catch in her voice.
“Ridiculously. He read your illustrated tales and got completely demoralized.”
“Demoralized? Why?”
“Thinking he wasn’t the chivalrous knight of your dreams,” said Oswald gravely.
“But… but those are just silly tales,” frowned Linnet. “What has that to do with-?” She huffed. “Let me get my cloak.”
“Where are you going milady?” squeaked Gertie.
“Shhhh Gertie! You must sleep in my bed and pull the overs over your head in case Lady Doverdale checks.”
“What?” her maid whisper-shrieked.
“Oswald, you must take me to him and then you must lead me back before day breaks.”
He nodded. Linnet slipped on a pair of her old cloth slippers and padded along the corridor after her brother-in-law. To her surprise he led her to a low wooden door rather than carrying on down the corridor.
Seeing her surprise he winked. “Servant’s stair,” he whispered.
Linnet followed him up the windy stairs, pausing when he gave her the signal and crouching low and waiting in the shadows when he went ahead to check there was no-one about. They emerged a few minutes later in another wide corridor which led to the Vawdrey chambers.
“Through here,” he said, gesturing to a doorway. She lowered her hood and found she was in a small sitting room. “That one’s Mason’s room,” he said nodding toward it. “Father’s stormed off, he won’t be back tonight so don’t worry about him. I’m in that room. Roland’s staying with the Jevons’. Do you need anything?”
She shook her head. “Thanks Oswald.”
“Be kind to him. He’s had a rough day.” He hesitated. “He couldn’t sleep last night without you. He’s not really handling all this very well.”
Linnet stared. “Um, will you knock on the door when it’s time for me to sneak back?”
“Yes, don’t worry. I’m a good time-keeper.”
She smiled at her brother-in-law and then made her way to Mason’s room.
XXVI
Mason was lying on his back, one arm flung across the pillow, his brow puckered. He looked to be slumbering to Linnet, but maybe he was only sotted? "Mason?" she whispered as she clambered on the bed beside him. She placed a hand on his chest and his eyes flickered open.
"Linnet," he breathed and smiled at her. His eyes drifted shut again.
Sotted, thought Linnet.
Then his eyes opened again. "That's an ugly nightgown, sweetheart," he frowned. "Take it off."
"Still bossy, even when drunk," she remarked. When she sat up to pull it over her head, he struggled to sit up.
"Don't go." Then he clutched his head and groaned. "Dizzy."
"Lie back down," she said, flinging the white nightgown over the edge of the bed. "I'm not going anywhere." She shifted over to wrap her arm around his chest, pressing into his side. He made an approving sound deep from his chest. "Missed you," he said, dragging her physically closer. He caught one leg and pulled it over his waist.
She turned her face into his neck and breathed deep. "I missed you too."
"Did you?" he asked belligerently and squinted down at her. "Read your book." His gaze was faintly accusing.
"Did you?" she asked lightly. "You know I didn't write the story, Mason. It's an old tale."
He grunted.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked planting a palm on his chest and lifting off him. "Something displeased you?"
He closed his eyes. "I'm nothing like him. Sir Maurency."
She hesitated. "Well, as to that. I'm nothing like the ladies in those tales either."
His eyes flickered back open. "How's that?"
"All the ladies are saintly in virtue and dazzling in their beauty."
He snorted, his eyes drifting back shut. Then they snapped back open. "Who said you weren't?"
"If I was saintly in virtue I wouldn't be sneaking into your bed like this against the king's orders," she pointed out tartly.
"This is where you belong," he said with satisfaction, his hand sliding up and down her thigh.
"And if I was dazzling in beauty people wouldn't be saying I looked like a toad in a dress!"
That got his attention. "Who the fuck said that?" he asked angrily, his eyes bright.
"I don't know. Everyone apparently. At least it explains why your brother jilted me."
"They're all fools," said Mason, his eyes drifting shut again. "And Roland's the biggest one of all. Don't know what they're talking about."
"That doesn't matter anyway," said Linnet briskly. "That's not the point I was making."
"Hmm. Kiss me Linnet."
"What did you say?" Was he even following their conversation?
He gave a soft snore and she gazed at him exasperation.
"Well, really," she muttered beneath her breath. Then her gaze softened. He looked so much more approachable in the soft candle-light, his brow now completely free of frowns. She brought her hands up to rest flat against his large tanned chest. Then brought them down his muscular stomach. His muscles bunched and rippled beneath her touch. He groaned and whispered her name. She hesitated. Should she stop? She didn't usually get the chance to explore. Usually he took over long before she got the opportunity! She bit her lip. Well, he had told her to kiss him! She leaned forward tentatively and pressed a soft kiss to one of his flat nipples. So small and different to her own. When he didn't react, she kissed the other one. Still nothing. Hmmm. They obviously weren't sensitive like hers. When she went to move down further, she felt something hard bob against her thigh and realized he wasn't unaffected by her ministrations. Hmm interesting. Carefully she shifted over him, until she was straddling his thighs, his erect manhood bumping against her belly as she leant forward to continue kissing the defined muscles on his stomach.
He groaned and reached down, capturing her head between his large hands, his fingers plunging into her hair. She could feel him gently urging her down and nothing loth, she shifted down his legs further until she was facing his very turgid man-root. So hard was it that it pointed straight up at her and Linnet stared at it with fascination. Of course, she was pretty well acquainted now with her husband's appendage, but she had never seen it up close before. Whenever she tried to pet it usually, he rolled on top of her and pushed it between her thighs! His hands kept a steady pressure on her head, so she guessed she must be right where he wanted her. The crazy idea popped into her head that he might want her to kiss it! After all, he had kissed her in her most intimate place and it had been shockingly delightful. Feeling extremely daring she bobbed her head forward and kissed it softly on the tip. Mason's body jerked.
"Linnet!" he gasped and went rigid. She looked up to find him blinking down at her with a look of shocked surprise on his face. "What-?" When she tried to lean forward again, his hands clutched her scalp holding her off him. "Don't sweeting," he said, his voice sounded raw. "You probably shouldn't do that-" His chest was heaving like he'd run ten flights of stairs, she noticed. And quite frankly, though his hands held her in check, his man-part was straining toward her as if it had a mind of its own.
"Why not?" she asked. "You kiss me there."
"It's not the same," he said sounding tense. "You won't like it."
She considered this a moment. "Wo
uld you like it?"
He made a choked sound.
She drew her own conclusions. "Let me try it."
"Gods," he moaned. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"I'm being nice to you. Stop being stubborn."
"You'll stop when I tell you to?" he asked in a strangled voice
She nodded.
He groaned again and eased off his grasp on her head.
Linnet surged forward kissed it again on the fat tip. She felt him relax slightly and give a relieved sigh as she kissed it again. Linnet frowned. That couldn't be right, she must be doing something wrong. Then she remembered how he had pleasured her. Soft kisses at first, but then his tongue. Her frown cleared and she gave him a lingering lick that had his fingers digging back in her hair.
He shuddered. "Linnet!" A sharp groan. "Holy hells!"
She licked and licked all around the top and down the sturdy shaft until he was shaking and she was running out of ideas.
"Just ... Stop," he gasped.
"Stop?" When she tried to lift her head to look at him his hands tightened on her hair holding her in place. He swore, low and dirty.
No, that couldn't be right, thought Linnet, narrowing her eyes. When he did it to her he took her all the way to rapture.
"Just.. oh fuck, put me in your mouth," he gritted out.
In her mouth? Linnet's expression cleared. Hmm, that did make sense if it was mimicking the act... She opened her mouth around the tip and engulfed as much as she could. He was moaning now and shifting his hips. "Just... breathe through your nose," he told her raspily as his hips settled into softly undulating against her. Suddenly, he hissed through his teeth. "Stop, stop now," he gasped out. "If you don't-"
Linnet sucked in a breath to ask if that was really what he wanted, forgetting her mouth was full of him and she couldn't speak anyway and suddenly he was roaring and her mouth was even fuller as he swelled against the roof of her mouth and pulsed against her tongue and her mouth was flooded. She gave an astonished exclamation, swallowed and found her mouth filling up again.
Her Bastard Bridegroom: A Medieval Romance Page 20