Page 26 of Her Baseborn Bridegroom

Robards appeared just before midday with a final draft on the food-store inventory he had been working on. What they had stocked up seemed to her like a healthy amount for the castle. He also had good news in that the tanner had confirmed the leather jerkins and boots she had ordered for their soldiers had indeed been bought and paid for and sent to their troops on the battle lines. This cheered Linnet no end, as she often thought of the fifty men they had sent to swell the King’s ranks. If they had not received any of the things she had ordered to follow them from home, she would have been devastated. She guessed that her uncle would not have wanted to look bad to the King by sending their troops unkitted for battle. It would have been a face-saving exercise at court, but she didn’t care. She and her aunt’s ladies-in-waiting had sent several bundles of blankets and warm woolen undergarments for their men. It had been one thing she had felt involved in, although she hadn’t left her tower once. She looked over Robards’s inventory figures and gave her opinion tentatively. He seemed ill at ease, although he agreed the food stores were in good order. She guessed it was because her husband was out visiting the tenants without him and she felt a pang of sympathy as Robards retreated. The steward never seemed to stop working from dawn till dusk. She wondered briefly if he had a wife tucked away somewhere. She didn’t have long to dwell on this though, as the nervous-looking maid that she had since learnt was called Nan, announced that Mother Ames had arrived to see her.

“Show her in please, Nan, and fetch us some refreshment if you would.”

A woman with a mass of grey hair strode into the room in a black woolen dress and a practical pair of clogs. She carried a walking staff, though she had no limp. Cuthbert swiveled in his seat to give her a grin. Linnet jumped up and made her way over to the older woman, grasping her hands in greeting.

“You are welcome, Mother Ames,” she said warmly, drawing her over to the window seat.

“Finally come into your own, I see,” said the woman with a cackle, as she cast a swift appraising look over her. “I saw the prowling black panther riding out this morn, though he passed me by.”

Linnet thought fleetingly of the Vawdrey heraldic beast, though Mason, born on the wrong side of the blanket, did not have the right to use it in the strictest sense.

“My husband,” she said, nodding her head. “He has ridden out this day to see the lay of our lands.”

Mother Ames sent her a shrewd look from her beady eyes as she seated herself on the dark-red cushions. “He will hear nothing good from your tenants.”

Linnet felt herself bridle a little. “You have never seen fit to mention this to me before.”

The older woman shrugged. “You weren’t in any position to hear it before.”

Linnet mulled this over as she waved in Nan, who was bearing a tray of spiced biscuits and a jug of dark ale. She jumped up to pour a cup for her visitor, checked on Cuthbert’s spelling and then returned to sit at the window seat with Mother Ames.

“And how do ye like your new husband, young miss?” asked Mother Ames, smacking her lips together after draining her cup.

Linnet pondered this a moment. “He is very fine,” she responded.

“Is he? Is he, indeed?” The old woman sounded skeptical.

Cuthbert twisted in his chair. “He’s a soldier, Grandmother. With a sword as tall as me.”

Mother Ames snorted at her grandson’s wide eyes. “Give me your hand, child” she said, turning to Linnet.

Linnet complied, though in truth she had only seen her read palms for her giggling aunt’s ladies-in-waiting before, never for herself.

Mother Ames grunted. “A husband of your own choosing, is it?” she said, casting a surprised look at Linnet’s face. “Bold piece,” she laughed. “I have hopes for you after all.” She passed a thumb over her palm and frowned. “But what’s this . . . ? A lion intercepts your panther, my little leopardess. I see interesting times ahead.” She muttered distractedly to herself. “Not been presented at court have ye, little one?”

“Court? No, never. My health was too precarious . . . ” Her words trailed off at the gleam in the other woman’s eyes. “At least,” she added drily, “that was what I was led to believe.”

Mother Ames grunted and then turned Linnet’s hand over to look at the cracked Vawdrey signet ring. Her eyebrows rose but she made no comment.

“The sweat of an amethyst,” she said suddenly and helped herself to a biscuit.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Suspend an amethyst over boiling water and then rub the sweat from the gemstone over your afflicted skin.”

“A new remedy?” asked Linnet excitedly.

“The jewel has healing properties. Do ye have an amethyst?”

“I hardly know. Cuthbert knows the Cadwallader jewels better than I,” she turned to her page.

Cuthbert wrinkled his nose. “What color be amethysts?” he asked, dropping his pen.

“A purplish color.”

“Maybe,” he said, nodding excitedly. “One of those old pendants of the late Lady Cadwallader has a purple stone.”

“Her betrothal necklace! Well remembered!” said Linnet, clapping her hands together.