Her Baseborn Bridegroom (Vawdrey Brothers Book 1)

by Alice Coldbreath

  “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.”

  The Queen’s words were gracious, but Linnet felt embarrassed as she cleared her throat and nodded.

  “Indeed, I am quite recovered,” she forced herself to say in her loudest voice so everyone could hear her. “My husband has been most solicitous of my recovery.”

  The Queen’s smiled widened as the crowd reacted to this to this with a low buzz of whispering which sounded somewhat alarming in the strange evening air.

  “We are most glad to hear it,” she announced.

  Though whether she meant the royal we or court in general, Linnet was not so sure.

  “I am afraid that my stratagem this morning went most awry,” said the Queen, pulling a contrite face that almost looked sincere. “I had not anticipated your swooning, Lady Linnet. It was most remiss of me.”

  Linnet felt a spasm of irritation, which she hoped she managed to mask. She was not proud of swooning, and the sooner people forgot about it the better!

  “It was most uncharacteristic, Your Majesty, I assure you,” she said dismissively. “Pray do not give it another thought.”

  The Queen’s eyes gleamed with amusement. She turned her gaze on Mason.

  “You sent no word of appeal to the King over my judgement, Sir Mason,” she said in a light, teasing tone. “Am I to take it that you fully accept the conditions laid out before you?”

  “You are,” he answered gruffly.

  “You see, sire” said the Queen, turning to King Wymer. “He is quite satisfied.”

  The King was staring at Mason. He gave a brief nod. “So it seems,” he said. “Extraordinary!”

  “Is that all?” asked Mason with a thread of annoyance running through his words. “I would like to return my wife to our rooms now. Your Majesties,” he added as an afterthought.

  The Queen gave a delighted laugh. “No, that is not all, Sir Mason” she said with mock gravity. She turned back to the crowd with her arms outstretched. “It is my sincere pleasure to inform you all that Lady Linnet’s lands and estate are hereby returned to her. And in addition,” she said, holding up one dainty finger, “we bestow the title she holds in abeyance upon her beloved husband Sir Mason Vawdrey, who will hereby be known as the Duke of Cadwallader.”

  Linnet gasped as Mason stiffened beside her. Their gazes clashed, reflecting each other’s utter shock. The crowd meanwhile had erupted into wild applause and cheers. Linnet found herself jostled and buffeted as they were inundated with well-wishers, shaking Mason’s hand and kissing her cheek. At one point, Lady Doverdale’s dour face appeared before her and she grasped Linnet’s hand.

  “Lady Doverdale, I want to thank you,” she said hurriedly. “Perhaps we could meet before I return home?”

  “There is no perhaps about it child,” replied Lady Doverdale drily. “The Queen will not let you go that easily.”

  Linnet’s eyes widened with alarm.

  “We are to be the first of her new ladies in waiting, you and I. She has grand plans, this Queen. Do not look so alarmed, child,” she added calmly. “This means whenever he is summoned to court, so are you.”

  Linnet’s jaw dropped. “That . . . that would be convenient,” she admitted on reflection.

  Lady Doverdale nodded and gave her a small smile. “Indeed,” she said and melted away as more faces appeared before them.

  Suddenly Linnet found herself scooped up in a bear hug by her jubilant father-in-law, Baron Vawdrey.

  “Father,” she gasped dutifully.

  “There’s my good girl,” he said approvingly. “Always knew you’d be good for this family.”

  A grinning Oswald appeared at her side and kissed her cheek. “Linnet, congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” she said warmly and found Roland had appeared at her other elbow.

  “Sister,” he said, kissing her other cheek without even a hint of awkwardness. “Shame the Jevonses aren’t here,” he said. “That’d be one in their eye.”

  “I thought you were great friends with them,” she replied tartly.

  He shuddered. “After living in close confinement with them for three weeks you have my deepest sympathy. It’s a wonder you didn’t fling yourself from your tower just to escape them.” She laughed, even though she thought Roland immature. “Wouldn’t have minded being a duke, though,” he added ruefully. He looked her up and down. “You’re not bad looking, on the whole.”

  “What was that?” rumbled Mason’s voice ominously as he stepped up behind Linnet and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  “Oh, nothing of import, Brother,” replied Roland. “Just offering my congratulations to my new sister.”

  “Hmmm.” Mason leaned down closer to Linnet’s ear. “I’ve just spoken to the King. The Queen wants a word with you. She’s about to offer you a position at court.”

  She looked up at him, waiting for his reaction. “And? What do you think?” she prompted. “Should I take it?”

  He shrugged. “It’s your decision,” he said.

  “It might be good for me,” she suggested. “Don’t get me wrong; I dearly love my home, but I’ve seen so little of life.”

  A smile played about his lips. “You may as well take it,” he said softly. “As I will be dragging you to court with me every time I’m summoned to attend the King.”

  Her face broke out in a smile. “It’s decided then,” she said, going up on tiptoes to receive his kiss. “I’ll just go and speak with the Queen.”

  “Come straight back.”

  “I will. Always.”

  The Queen was waiting for her in the fringed canopy. She sat sipping wine with a contented look on her face.

  “Ah, Linnet,” she said, waving to a low stool nearby. “Take a seat. I did want a word with you. I hope,” she continued sweetly as Linnet shuffled her seat forward, “that you accept my sincere apology over this morning’s debacle. I’m afraid my plan went sadly awry.” She cast her eyes down in something that would look vaguely like dismay if it weren’t for the smile playing about her lips. “But I do not think that you are too devastated by the outcome, no?”

  Linnet considered this a moment.

  “No,” she admitted truthfully. “My life has been in utter turmoil for the last few hours, but the outcome is satisfactory, and I suppose I have you to thank for that, Your Majesty.”

  The Queen laughed. “Spoken like a truly sensible woman,” she said approvingly. “You can see,” she said as she tapped her chin thoughtfully, “why I did not anticipate you would be a fainter. Unless you faked it, of course.”

  Linnet choked on the small mouthful of wine she had taken.

  “I most certainly did not,” she said firmly. “Fake it. Indeed, it was most inconvenient passing out like that. When I came to, I was extremely confused as to my own marital status!”

  “No, really? I am quite sure Sir Mason did not leave you in any doubt for too long.” the Queen laughed slyly as Linnet blushed. “Perhaps you did not break your fast before I summoned you,” she suggested apologetically. “Which would, again, make it my fault.”

  “Oh, no, I did,” Linnet assured her. “I always do. But, sadly, my stomach was upset this morning, so―” She broke off hurriedly.

  “You were queasy this morning? Sick?” asked the Queen. “And then, midday, you swoon? Aha! But of course,” she said, nodding her head. “This is the unknown factor that threw my stratagem off. By any chance, Linnet, have you also been uncustomarily fatigued?”

  “I don’t think so,” answered Linnet uneasily before remembering her sleeping session that afternoon. “Oh . . .”

  The Queen gave a ripple of laughter. “You do not seem so certain, little one. Are you sure tha
t, er . . .” She plucked at her skirt. “You are not . . . how do you call it?” she asked delicately. At Linnet’s blank expression she leant forward. “With child?”

  Linnet blinked at her. “Well I—” she hesitated. “That is, I do not—” Her face flushed. “Well, of course, I could be . . . ”

  XXXVI

  Afterward, much later, as they lay entwined in bed murmuring to each other about the day’s events, Linnet could hardly believe so much had been packed into one day. She smiled into Mason’s chest and wriggled closer. He had made very sweet and thorough love to her, caressing every part of her body until she was drifting away on a cloud of bliss. She could be in absolutely no doubt that her husband was madly in love with her. At least as much as she was with him.

  “Are you trying to fall asleep on me again?” he asked suspiciously. His hands closed gently around her ears, lifting her face from where she’d buried it in his chest.

  “I’m so tired,” she said softly.

  “Nay, you can’t be,” he countered. “This is the part where you talk the hind legs off a donkey and tell me your every aggravating thought.”

  “But you hate it when I do that,” protested Linnet, forcing her eyes open to look at him. “You said you wanted utter silence after you’ve bedded me,” she pointed out irritably.

  “No, I didn’t. I would never say that. I love it and feel cheated when you try and cut that part out.”

  “Ugh,” she said, letting her head drop forward again and snuggling it against his warm, tanned skin.

  “Linnet!” he pointed out reasonably. “You can’t be tired. You slept all afternoon.”

  “So sleepy!” she protested, clinging tightly to him.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Queen Armenal thinks I might be pregnant,” she murmured into his neck.

  “What?”

  She felt a jolt as his whole body tensed beneath her. “Well, I swooned, don’t forget. I never swoon. And this morning, I vomited. I never vomit either,” she added thoughtfully. “And then I just keep getting so tired.”

  “You vomited? When? You never told me.”

  “Directly after breakfast.”

  His hand slid round from her backside to lightly caress her flat stomach. “Does it feel any different?” he asked, sounding curious.

  “Not yet.”

  “Should we return home sooner?” he asked. Linnet could hear a faint thread of panic running through his words. “The King asked for us to remain another sennight.”

  “I’m sure that’s fine,” she mumbled.

  “I only agreed because it would keep us out of Robards’s way while he prepares our celebration feast at Cadwallader.”

  “What celebration feast?” Linnet raised her head to peer down at him.

  “Our wedding feast. The one you wanted with all the tenants and laborers and servants having the day off.” He shrugged. “And the tents. That one.”

  “We’re having it?” she asked.

  “You wanted it. We’re having it.”

  “With the tents?” she persisted. “And the entertainers.”

  “Musicians, tumblers, acrobats, jesters. The lot.”

  She stared down at him. “You did all that? For me?”

  “Well, I only really gave the word, Linnet. Robards is doing all the actual hard work.”

  A tear splashed off his face. “Linnet,” he groaned. “Why are you crying?”

  “I don’t know,” she sobbed. “Because I’m h-happy! Because you made all my dreams come true!

  “Shhhhhh, he said, pulling her face back down to rest on his chest, his hands stroking gently up her back. “Go to sleep. You’re overtired.”

  She sighed, turned her face, and kissed his neck. “You know, you really are as good as Maurency.”

  He tensed again slightly. “There she is,” he mused. “The woman I love, glibly throwing around another man’s name as I’m on the brink of sleep.”

  She gave a soft snore and he smiled.

  Epilogue

  2 weeks later, Cadwallader Castle, The Summerlands, Karadok

  Linnet hung onto Mason’s arm as the acrobats all dressed in black and yellow formed their pyramid. She gasped along with the rest of the crowd as the uppermost fellow teetered and pulled expressions of terror on his rubbery face.

  “Mason . . . ” she started, tugging on his sleeve.

  “He’s not going to fall, my love,” he sighed, patting her hand.

  “But he looks awfully precarious,” she pointed out. “The poor man doesn’t seem to have the slightest head for heights.”

  Mason rolled his eyes. “Just wait.”

  “I really think we’re going to have to intervene.”

  Suddenly the accompanying musician ceased beating on his small drum and the acrobat promptly righted himself, drew three yellow balls from his baggy, silk trews, and started juggling whilst whistling a nonchalant tune.

  “You see, he’s fine,” said Mason indulgently.

  The audience erupted into gales of laughter and Linnet let out a sigh of relief.

  “Now this is the best tent yet,” said Cuthbert with satisfaction as he tucked into another sticky piece of marchpane.

  Linnet looked around for his grandmother. “Where’s Mother Ames?” she asked. “She was here a minute ago.”

  “She’s in the ale tent with Mrs. Wickers,” shrugged Cuthbert. Everyone had pronounced Mrs. Wickers’s specially made commemorative Cadwallader honey ale excellent.

  “Oh, is she helping out?” asked Linnet. “It was very busy in there.”

  “Not her. She’s playing cards with the fool,” said Cuthbert. “He’s quite skilled at cards,” he said. “You wouldn’t think he would be, would you?”

  “Funny that,” commented Mason drily. “But I wouldn’t recommend any of the locals to play cards with this lot. I suspect your grandmother will be alright though.”

  “Oh, she’ll be alright,” agreed Cuthbert. “When I last saw her she’d won his bells and his floppy hat.”

  Mason, who had spent all morning avoiding being hit with the fool’s inflated bladder on a stick, looked heartened by this news.

  Cecil Robards appeared briefly in the tent entrance looking harassed. He scanned the crowd and then hurried over.

  “Has anyone seen the lute player, my lord, my lady?” he asked distractedly. “The musicians were supposed to start in the red tent directly and only half of them are assembled!”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Linnet. “Oh dear, I don’t think Robards is enjoying himself,” she said guiltily as he beat a hasty retreat.

  “We’ll give him a holiday when it’s all over,” said Mason.

  “That’s a good idea,” Linnet beamed at him.

  He slipped an arm about her waist and kissed her cheek.

  “Feeling alright?” he murmured. Linnet’s morning sickness had not abated one bit in the two weeks that had passed, but mercifully, after she’d been up and about for an hour or so, it passed.

  She nodded and leant into him, wrapping her arms about his waist. “Mother Ames suggested I try some of the gingerbread. Apparently it’s very good for queasiness.”

  Mason looked over at the trays of sweetmeats and candied fruits uncertainly. “Do you want me to fetch you some?”

  She shook her head. “I feel fine now.”

  “Good,” he said and kissed the top of her head.

  “I sent Oswald off to give Enid a tour of the grounds,” said Linnet with self-satisfaction. “Did they not make a handsome pair?” She cast a sidelong look at her husband.

  “I didn’t notice,” he replied aggravatingly. “Stop plotting. You’ve enough to occupy yourself madam wife, without adding matchmaking to your list.”

  Linnet opened her mouth to protest but was cut off.

  “Cuddling,” said a loud voice with disgust. “I might have known it!”

  Linnet had to turn her head as Mason made not even the smallest effort to release her. It was
her father-in-law, with a tankard of ale.

  “Good brew this,” he commented. “Pleasant aftertaste.”

  “We’re so glad you approve, Father,” said Linnet warmly. “I shall pass your comments on to Mrs. Wickers.”

  “Aye, you do that. Or maybe I’ll tell her myself,” he added thoughtfully.

  “Oh, there’s Roland,” said Linnet as her youngest brother-in-law sauntered past the tent, escorting a dark young woman on his arm.

  “Who’s that he’s with?” asked Baron Vawdrey in astonishment.

  “Oh that?” asked Linnet so casually that Mason’s head turned to look at her in sudden suspicion. “That’s just our neighbor, Lord Lascombe’s eldest daughter Iris. Pretty isn’t she? And she plays the harp beautifully.”

  “And just when did you find time to introduce them?” asked Mason. “I’ve barely taken my eyes off you all morning.”

  Linnet patted him reassuringly on the arm. “There’s always time to introduce friends and neighbors,” she said. “Besides, you were distracted giving Sir Lang the news about the King’s wedding present to us.”

  King Wymer had promised to send a special order discharging the forty-eight Cadwallader soldiers back home directly and they were expected any day now.

  “Wouldn’t it be perfect if they showed up today and were able to join in the festivities?” sighed Linnet.

  “Robards would probably expire on the spot,” observed Mason drily. The castle steward’s hair had grown even thinner in the last three weeks since they had been at court. “He’ll be heartily glad when today is over with!”

  “Shall we move on to the next tent?” asked Linnet. “We still haven’t seen the ballad singers.”

  Mason nodded. Baron Vawdrey had already wandered off in search of Mrs. Wickers, and Cuthbert was loth to leave the acrobats so they left him, now crunching his way through a handful of sugared almonds.

  “If he gets a stomach ache,” said Mason, “I expect his grandmother can cure it.”

  “I think Robards said the musicians were in the red tent,” said Linnet, scanning the field full of fluttering, striped canopies.

  Her heart swelled at the sight. All their tenants and vassals were strolling around, joining in the festivities and vastly enjoying themselves. It was just as she had imagined it would be all those weeks ago when she’d been deceived. All felt right with her world. Now whenever she caught someone’s eye, they were happy to greet her with a smile and bob, a curtsy or sketch a bow. She nodded and smiled at Rolfe, who was walking out with Nan the maid. Mrs. Perkins, the housekeeper, was wearing her fine new cloak with pride, despite the fine weather. Gossip from the royal court had reached as far even as the Summerlands and everyone seemed to know of the happenings at the royal court and how Mason had chosen Linnet over title and fortune. Apparently even bards were singing of it! Lady Sybilla Jauncey and the rest of their neighbors in the county had been falling over themselves to befriend the Queen’s new favorite lady-in-waiting. It was well known that the Jevonses had fled to some obscure corner of the kingdom to live in retirement. The castle servants had heard everything firsthand from Gertie and Cuthbert whose stories of Caer-Lyonnes were much in demand. Nan was determined that she would be the one to accompany her mistress next time, and Gertie was giving her specialized court training.