Page 28 of Her Baseborn Bridegroom

The older woman chuckled. “As I said, I start to have hopes for you,” she said, polishing off the last biscuit.

As it turned out, Linnet did not have long to brood over Mother Ames’s cryptic warning, for she had visitors just three days later. She had no sooner performed her tower climb—eight times—and returned to the solar than her servant announced Lady Sybilla Jauncey and her daughter-in-law, Enid Jauncey.

“Good gracious,” remarked Linnet to Cuthbert. “They did not take long to respond to my missive!” She turned back to the footman. “Please show both ladies in.”

Linnet could tell from the moment that the two ladies were ushered into the room that things were not going as they had expected. She rose and crossed the room to greet them only to find the older lady dismiss her impatiently.

“Yes, yes, let us dispense with the pleasantries,” she said, cutting off Linnet’s words of welcome with a flick of her wrist. “You may take me to your mistress’s room now, poor dear. I have no doubt she is in need of my comfort after all the dreadful goings-on.”

The face of the younger woman beside her grew tight though she remained silent.

Linnet looked from one to the other in bewilderment. “I think there has been some mistake,” she said aloud. “For I am your host, Lady Linnet Vawdrey. Cadwallader as was.”

The older woman’s eyes bugged out. “You?” she hissed, looking her up and down.

Linnet nodded once, glancing over to where Cuthbert stood all agog. “Cuthbert, kindly fetch my guests some refreshment. Please,” she said, turning back to the two ladies, “come in and take a seat.”

Linnet could not help but notice how they stared at her as she arranged her houppelande gown and seated herself opposite them.

“I can scarcely believe it!” exclaimed the elder Lady Jauncey, dropping into a seat. “Why, I can’t see much wrong with you! You don’t even limp!”

Linnet blinked. “No indeed,” she agreed when the older woman continued to glare at her accusingly. “I’ve never limped,” she elaborated to fill the awkward silence.

“You—your health must have recently greatly improved, Lady Linnet,” said the younger one, eyeing her mother-in-law with misgiving.

“Not really,” answered Linnet with a shrug. “My aunt and uncle insisted I was too ill to leave my rooms, but it turns out they greatly exaggerated.”

Both their mouths dropped open at her frankness.

“I should say so,” spluttered Lady Sybilla. “I have been grossly deceived!” her bosom heaved. “And Lady Jevons always professed us such good friends!” Her tone was bitter. “And all this time, you would have done very well for Lambert or Chilton!”

“Mother,” cautioned the younger one heavily.

“Who are Lambert and Chilton?” asked Linnet, determined to try and hold up her end of the conversation.

“My sons,” announced Lady Sybilla.

“Lambert was my husband,” pointed out Enid drily. Then as Lady Sybilla continued muttering to herself distractedly, she leant forward and imparted: “He died last spring of a fever. Chilton is now Lord Jauncey.”

“Ah, I’m sorry for your loss,” said Linnet in a similarly quiet tone.

“Thank you,” said Enid with a brief smile.

“A helpless, malformed invalid Millicent said,” continued Lady Sybilla aggrieved and completely oblivious to Linnet’s wince. “And to think! All this time . . . Not a jot wrong with you!”

She glared at Linnet almost as if it was her fault! She was relieved to hear Cuthbert’s footfall at the doorway as he bought in a tray of drinks. He brought the tray to Linnet first and she helped herself to a cup of apple wine. Then he took the tray to Lady Sybilla, and then to Lady Enid both of whom also took a cup.

“To new friends,” said Linnet brightly.

Lady Enid lifted her cup at the toast, but Lady Sybilla’s face twitched and turned quite purple with chagrin. They all took a deep draught.

“I am very happy to welcome you here to Cadwallader Castle,” said Linnet. At Sybilla’s snort, it occurred to her belatedly that it might not be their first visit. “But perhaps you visited with the Jevons previously . . . ”

“Do not mention that pair of snakes to me,” implored Lady Sybilla, throwing up her hands. “The wretched deceit!”

“Really, Mother!” objected Enid, leaning forward. “You must get ahold of yourself. You’ll make Lady Linnet uncomfortable with this talk.”

At this, the older woman’s eyes narrowed and she seemed to rally herself a moment. After a moment’s pause, she drew a deep breath. “You are right,” she said rallying. “After all, what’s done is done. We must see what can be done to repair the situation at hand.”