Page 45 of Her Baseborn Bridegroom

“What?” He glared up at her. “Someone threatened you?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. Just . . . you know, it was foretold.”

“What was foretold?”

“That there would be some opposition from House Vawdrey over our marriage.”

“Who the hell told you that?”

“Mother Ames.”

“Mother . . . ?” he broke off. “That old quack that told you to rub gemstones over your freckles?”

“She’s a wise woman,” Linnet told him.

He snorted. “My father’s already half come around. Give him a grandson and you’ll be his favorite daughter.”

“He’s reconciled to our marriage?”

“As much as he is reconciled to anything not of his own devising.”

She hesitated. “But what of your brother, Sir Roland?”

He stiffened. “You are no concern of Roland’s now Linnet.”

“But your father seemed to think—”

“Be damned to what that old man thinks!” he burst out. “Are you trying to drive me from my own bed, Woman?”

Linnet stared at him. When she reddened and tried to clamber off him, he rolled fully on top of her.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said thickly. “So stop wriggling.”

She went still and he rolled them both onto their sides and drew the blankets up around them. He was spooning her now, his hand resting on her hip.

“Linnet?”

She turned her face away from him towards the pillow. For some reason he didn’t like feeling shut out. “Are you—?” Hells. Had he made her cry? He felt his chest clench. “Just go to sleep,” he said frustratedly. She didn’t make a sound. For some reason that bothered him too. He was too tired to think why. Instead he pressed his face into the side of her neck and let his eyes drift shut again. She had worn him out. He would deal with it in the morning.

XIII

Linnet woke early and quickly remembered the falling out from the night before. Mason was still tucked against her back, his arm slung about her waist. Physically close, but emotionally miles away. She frowned over his erratic behavior. She had no idea why her defense of their marriage should have displeased him so greatly. Unless he thought it unworthy of protecting, she thought uneasily. Her chest ached at such a thought. She remembered how he had told her more than once that he cared little for the opinion of others. It seemed she had not taken on board just how little the opinion of the world mattered to this new husband of hers. Mayhap he did not care that the majority of their tenants thought she was a horrid, grasping tyrant? She thought of Johnny Wickers’s mother the alewife. How many other of the castle’s servants had been unfairly thrown out by her aunt? Then there was her uncle’s unfair taxation. She bit her thumbnail. And how was she to address these wrongs? She glanced back over her shoulder, but Mason was still asleep, his face relaxed and far less harsh looking in repose. No matter how she looked at it, she just could not spin a positive view of Mason’s attitude. He had told her she was naive and sheltered, but she had not heeded his warning. Clearly, he expected her to get on with her life inside the castle and not try and turn him into her confidante or friend. She remembered how she had falsely assumed their physical closeness the night before had meant she could pour out her deepest fears and thoughts to him. Only moments earlier, their bodies had moved together as one, but when she had tried to have a heart-to-heart conversation, her husband had cruelly snubbed her! Blinking back tears, she realized that she needed to wake up. The sad truth was she had no right to feel sorry for herself. She had made her marriage bargain and not one word had been spoken of love or affection. He had cleaved to her as a wife, that much was true. He had every intention of making sure she kept her end of the bargain and bore him a son. Sons, she corrected herself with a pucker between her brows. He had been quite firm about the fact she would be giving him more than the initial heir she had imagined. But that didn’t mean he saw them in any sentimental light she told herself sternly.

She remembered his father Baron Vawdrey’s explosive arrival the night before. She could see little by way of affection or paternal bond between them. They had not exchanged greetings or embraced at their reunion, she pondered. And Mason had certainly not spoken of any fondness existing within the bonds of their marriage. Oswald had attempted to remonstrate with his father’s brusque, offensive words, but Mason had not even risen from his seat to defend her! She needed to stop romanticizing things in her head and understand that her marriage was not the stuff of ballads. Mason was not a chivalrous knight and true. He was no Sir Maurency of Jorde. She was not a beauteous maiden and he had not rescued her from her tower. If anything, she had called down to him and he had pointed out there was a door. The many steps leading to her freedom had to be scaled by Linnet alone. She shivered and, gently removing his arm, slid from the bed to wash and dress. Somewhere in the castle her father-in-law was abroad and forming opinions. It did not matter to Mason one whit what they were, but it did matter to her! She didn’t want Lord Vawdrey to think she was some useless ninny or malingering burden. She needed to show that she could be a worthwhile addition to his family. She just needed to be less emotional where Mason was concerned. Clearly the Vawdrey men had no time for emotional outpourings from women.

By the time she slipped from their chamber, Linnet’s melancholy had almost completely dispersed. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and she had another promising day ahead of her. She went first to her tower and dutifully climbed her stairs eight times until she could feel her heart steadily beating in her chest. She was definitely growing stronger and had more stamina. When she had first started her daily exercises she had grown quickly out of breath and had to pause several times to recover. Now, although her pace had slackened off on the very last climb and ascent, she was much faster and didn’t need to pause at all. If Mason’s increased attentions in the bedroom were anything to go by, she must be getting up to his weight now, if nothing else!

Her tread was light as she made her way to the great hall, but to her surprise neither Lord Vawdrey nor Oswald were yet out of bed. She breakfasted alone, reflecting that her father-in-law had taken a long horseback journey yesterday and was probably exhausted. He wasn’t a young man anymore. And Mason had imbibed more ale than he usually did. Perchance his head was sore this morning. Catching sight of her page approaching with her toast, she suddenly had an idea.

“Cuthbert, let us call at your grandmother’s cottage today,” she smiled. “And perhaps you could also direct me to John Wickers’s mother’s dwelling while we are out. Do they live close by?”

Cuthbert’s eyes widened at the idea of going out again today. He looked at her doubtfully. “We’ll need to take a horse and cart,” he said. “’Tis too far for you to walk, milady.”

“Very well, then directly after breakfast we must have one of the grooms drive us over. It’s a beautiful day and would be a shame to waste it.” She took a hasty gulp of milk. “Can you send word to the stables?”

“Yes milady.”

“And could you kindly borrow the housekeeper’s cloak again for me, Cuthbert, in case ’tis colder out than it looks. Pray assure her I will have a new one commissioned for her when Mr. Postner the tailor comes this week.”