Page 22 of Her Baseborn Bridegroom

“Exactly. And then there’s the mouths to feed, the cloth to clothe, the fuel to burn, all magnified by four times the workforce you actually had in your household accounts.”

She swallowed. “I see.”

“I suspect a lot of the expenses listed in your book for repairs and maintenance never actually took place. There are several parts of the castle that need renovation.”

She nodded bravely, but he could see she felt a total idiot.

“’Tis not your fault,” he found himself saying, despite himself. “You weren’t to know.”

“But . . . ” she shook her head. “That’s not true though, is it?” she trembled. “Because after just one day in my company you realized there is naught amiss with my heart.” She lifted her hand to her chest. “Whereas I, fool that I am . . . All this time I believed . . . ”

“ . . . The lies of people you trusted and who raised you,” he cut in.

She gulped. “I feel so stupid,” she said in a small voice. “You must think—”

He cut her off by sliding his hand under hers where he could feel her heart steadily beating. “I’m just glad there’s naught amiss with it.” When her fingers warmly grasped his, he realized he was telling the truth.

The following night, Oswald joined Mason and Linnet for a supper of sturgeon in a strong yellow sauce, which Mason guessed was to disguise the taste of salt, followed by a very good pigeon pie and vegetables. The kitchen staff were skilled, and Mason was glad the Jevonses had not thought to take them with them.

As the last course was cleared away and fresh wine and beer brought forth for the table, Oswald asked him directly: “Have you sent word to our father yet?”

Mason leaned back in his seat, gesturing for Cuthbert to refresh his cup. He glanced at Linnet, but she had barely touched her own mead. “Not yet,” he admitted. “But he will not be uneasy. We only left court two weeks ago.”

Oswald shook his head. “Where do you imagine Linnet’s uncle and aunt have scurried off to, Brother?” he asked quietly.

Linnet looked up with interest.

Mason shrugged, not overly concerned. Oswald was always overcautious. “Does your uncle have a property of his own?” he asked Linnet.

She shook her head. “They had a manor house over at Lye-Green, but they sold that after my father died.”

“They will go to court,” said Oswald heavily. “Depend upon it.”

“To court?” asked Mason in surprise.

“Sir Jevons is a courtier,” pointed out Oswald. “He holds some minor office . . . ” He glanced across at Linnet for confirmation.

“He is a door ward for the King,” she confirmed. “And very proud of the fact.”

“A door ward?” snorted Mason. “I would not want him guarding my treasure.”

Linnet flushed and he wondered for a moment if she had thought it a clumsy attempt at gallantry. He shifted awkwardly in his chair. Paying pretty compliments were not his forte. The sooner his new bride wised up to that, the better it would be for her.

“But why should you worry if they have fled to court, Oswald?” she asked after a moment’s heavy pause.

Oswald looked even more pained than usual. “They will have gone to court full of the news of your hasty marriage and the fact Mason threw them out.”

Mason lowered his cup and found them both regarding him with worried faces. For a moment, Oswald’s words did not register. He had been too distracted by the fact that Linnet addressed his brother by his given name. Though the gods alone knew why that should bother him. He blinked, gave his head a slight shake and growled: “Let them. Wymer has more to occupy him than some disgruntled courtier.”

“But our father will likely not take the news well from a stranger . . . ”

Mason shrugged a shoulder again. He had not overly concerned himself with pleasing Baron Vawdrey since he had been a boy. His father’s state of mind was largely a matter of indifference as far as he was concerned. Oswald constantly pandered to the old man and where did it get him? Their father was not one whit fonder of his heir than he was his other two sons. If anything, he was more critical of Oswald who he claimed “fretted like an old woman” and lacked decisiveness. He shouted and bawled at Mason when in a rage, but it was like water off a duck’s back.

“It little matters to me how he takes it,” he rumbled, and Oswald pursed his lips. Even as he opened his mouth to direct some comment at Linnet, Mason raised a finger.

“Do not try to involve Linnet in this,” he warned. “It’s family business.”

“She is family now,” Oswald pointed out tersely.