Page 17 of Her Baseborn Bridegroom

A smile tugged at Mason’s lips. “His outfit yesterday was certainly very colorful.”

Oswald agreed with a wince. “Green and red, so few men could carry off that combination.”

Linnet gurgled with laughter. “Certainly not my poor uncle.”

“I think your poor uncle was robbing you blind,” cut in Mason bluntly.

The smile wiped off Linnet’s face, and she drew in a sharp breath.

“Mason,” protested his brother.

“We shall see,” he responded with a shrug of his massive shoulders. He nodded towards one of the long tables in the hall where a pile of parchments and strong boxes had been put together. Looking up, she saw Robards and two male servants enter the hall carrying more coffers.

“The inventory?” choked out Linnet hoarsely. She felt slightly sick. “Can I help?”

Mason shook his head. “’Twill take at least a week. It’s quite an undertaking.

“Please?” she entreated on impulse. “If I’m sitting around unoccupied—” She broke off her words. “I’ll simply fall prey to fears the coffers are empty . . . ”

Mason sat back in his chair.

“Mason is quite right, Linnet,” said Oswald. “It would be far better if you would just sit comfortably and do some needlepoint instead of dragging yourself needlessly about the castle . . .

“You can help,” said her husband, dragging back his chair.

“Truly?” Linnet dropped her toast in her haste to join him. To her surprise, he waited at the end of the table and extended his hand to her. She hurried to take it and soon found her hand tucked in the crook of his arm.

“Has she even broken her fast?” asked Oswald with a plaintive sigh as he followed behind them.

“Indeed, I have eaten my fill,” Linnet assured him over her shoulder as she hurried to keep up with Mason’s long strides. He did not moderate his pace to accommodate her in any way she noticed without rancor.

He led her straight out of the great hall and down three flights of stone stairs to a massive, dim cellar. Oswald called out several warnings to Linnet to mind her step, but Mason’s grip on her arm, and even at times her waist, held her quite secure despite the encroaching gloom.

“Where are we? It’s huge down here!” exclaimed Linnet. There were already lighted torches in the sconces, and she guessed this must be where the already retrieved strongboxes must have come from.

“This undercroft lies directly under the great hall,” Mason told her. This is where most of your worldly goods are held.

She peered about at the numerous locked trunks and chests.

“This part alone will take at least three days,” said Oswald with a sigh.

Linnet groped about her waist for her chatelaine and lifted up the bunch of keys. “I suppose we should get started,” she said, squaring her shoulders.

Both brothers turned to look at her with some surprise. It occurred to her that they had thought she would take one look at the amount of work involved and cry off.

“You are sure?” started Oswald hesitantly, but Mason just gave a short laugh.

“Let her make a start,” he said with a shrug. He cast a quick appraising look at her. “We’ll see how long her resolve lasts.”

Linnet felt herself flush at being spoke of as if she was not even there! She cleared her throat. “Would it not make more sense to have a table and parchment brought down here, rather than bidding the servants carry it all above stairs?” she asked.

“Are you suggesting you would be willing to sit down here in the dark and damp,” asked Mason with faint scorn.

“Certainly husband,” she said. “If parchment and light were brought down, and an abacus, I would very happily, I assure you.”

“With the rats and spiders?” he asked, eyebrows raising in challenge.

“Even with them,” she agreed firmly. “I am not as afeared of them as they are of me, poor creatures.”