Page 14 of Her Baseborn Bridegroom

“They probably did not think to send a child to attend you after your bedding.”

“Oh.” She digested this a moment. “I see.”

“You might have been wailing and caterwauling,” he elaborated lazily.

He heard her swiftly indrawn breath. “Why would I have been doing that, pray?” she asked.

“Mourning the loss of your maidenhood.” Shit, wondered Mason incredulously, was he teasing her? He frowned in the darkness. It felt like he was teasing her. But he was Mason Vawdrey, the Despoiler of Demoyne, and he did not flirt.

He heard her head turn on the pillow and guessed she was trying to make out his face. “That’s silly. I don’t think women really do that,” she said.

“I wouldn’t know,” he shrugged. “You’re the only virgin I’ve ever had.”

She was silent over this a moment. “Oh.”

He had the feeling she had more to say on the subject.

Sure enough five seconds later she piped up uncertainly: “Was it . . . alright?”

He gave a choked cough. She was asking him? Really? “You tell me, Linnet.”

“Well,” she said, breathing out with a whoosh. “I haven’t anything to compare it with.”

“Are you still sore?” he asked, his voice low and intimate. He turned his head towards her, even though he could only see her outline.

“A little,” she admitted awkwardly. “What about you?”

“It’s different for men.” He could hear the tremor of laughter in his own voice.

“Oh. Of course.” He could hear the embarrassment in her voice. “Sorry, that was foolish.”

“Don’t apologize.” He rolled on his side towards her, reaching out until he found her. He stroked his hand down her side till he reached her hip and then pulled her into him. Linnet let out a faint squeak, her nose pressed to his chest. He ran his hand down her back. She mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“I said . . . You’re different in the dark.”

He pulled back to look at her face but of course, could not make out her expression. She was a fool if she believed that. In light of day or dark of night, he was still a bastard. His fingers were on her hair, drawing out the pins so that he could run his fingers through the soft, shiny length of hair, unimpeded. He could feel her relax with each pass of his fingers, her soft breath against his chest, even a sigh as his fingers brushed against her scalp. Her hair felt like finest silk. Her skin like rose petals. If anything, she was the one that was different in the dark, he mused. In the dark, Linnet was beautiful.

VI

Linnet woke early and lay blinking a few moments in half-sleep as she puzzled over the fact that she was plastered against something warm and solid. It turned out to be Mason Vawdrey’s muscular back. Even worse, she not only had her arm wrapped around his waist, but at some point during the night she had also flung one of her legs over his as if trying to scale him in her sleep! Mercifully he was a sound sleeper. With the utmost care, she set about extricating herself from his big warm body. First, she gingerly withdrew her leg, then she unclasped her arm from his waist. But when she began to shuffle back across the mattress from him she felt him give a disgruntled murmur. Holding her breath, Linnet lay stock still. He rolled onto his back, then rolled towards her in the space she had created and flung an arm across his face. This meant that the front of her body was now pressed into his side and, due to the fact her shift had ridden up in the night, her legs were bare. She gulped and squeezed her eyes shut. Well this was somewhat mortifying. They appeared to have switched positions in the night! Reaching down, she tried to disentangle her thin linen shift and yank it down for some decency.

“Stop wriggling, damn it,” he grunted sleepily and then rolled practically on top of her! Linnet gasped, finding herself flat on her back underneath all that muscle and warm skin. He was heavy. After a few deep breaths, it dawned on her that he was really only half on top of her or she would be squashed indeed. His breath tickled her neck, and she could feel the dark stubble of his chin against her collarbone. After a few moments, she realized with astonishment that he had gone back to sleep! Action in the battlefield must make you practically impervious to your surroundings for the purpose of sleeping, she marveled. Unless . . . unless her husband was used to having a bedfellow of the female variety? It wasn’t hard to believe. He wasn’t handsome as his features were too harsh, but he was quite striking looking in his masculinity with his black eyes and dark, curling hair. She absently reached up to stroke it. True, he wasn’t good looking in the bland, smooth-faced manner that she had heretofore admired. Mason Vawdrey had a dark, brooding, almost menacing quality about him. His eyes flashed. His voice was deep and gravelly. He was frankly horrible to the servants, snapping and snarling at them as if he could barely tolerate their presence. She remembered anxiously that he had ordered an inventory to commence today and she felt a pang. What if he found her bookkeeping inadequate? Or even worse, incompetent? He didn’t seem to have much in the way of patience, she thought with a tremor. She took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. There was nothing she could do now. She would simply have to weather it as best she could. Slowly his head rose from where it lay in the crook of her neck and he regarded her bleary eyed. She stilled her fingertips which had been lazily circling his scalp. Oh my goodness, Linnet! Were you petting him as if he were your hound? She watched as his eyes came sharply into focus and he blinked down at her.

“Linnet?” he said groggily.

“Aye, Husband?” Her tone was nervous.

“What—?” He glanced around and seemed to take in the fact that she was pinned underneath him. Giving a sharply muttered oath, he rolled off her and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

Linnet suffered her second pang of the day. She had been enjoying his physical proximity, she realized with surprise. It had been strangely comforting.

“Have I been lying on top of you all night?” he asked gruffly.

“Er no,” she said, feeling grateful he didn’t know she had been clinging to his back in the early hours. How humiliating that would have been!

He gave her an odd look. “I don’t usually—” He broke off his words, his gaze travelling down over her. Linnet struggled to sit up now, aware of the fact she must look a sleep-wrinkled sight.