Page 46 of Her Baseborn Bridegroom

Cuthbert hurried away.

“Ask her what her favorite color is,” she called after him. “And if she wants a hood!”

Linnet had already finished her morning meal when her brother-in-law appeared, looking somewhat worse for wear with bloodshot eyes and a somewhat grey complexion.

“Father and Mason are animals,” he grumbled. “I vowed I would never drink with them again after the last time.” He rubbed his stomach.

“Neither have arisen yet,” Linnet told him. “Mayhap you will feel better when you have broken your fast?”

He blanched. “It is doubtful I could keep anything down,” he confessed.

“I wonder if Mother Ames could whip you something up,” she pondered. “She’s wondrously good with potions and remedies.”

Oswald looked bewildered. “Who?”

“Cuthbert’s grandmother and the local wise woman,” she confided. “I’m off to see her now about some other matter.”

He grimaced. “Trying to get some foul potion down my gullet does not appeal one whit. Who are you taking with you?”

“Oh—Cuthbert.” When he frowned, she added. “And the groom to drive the cart, of course.”

He hesitated. “You should not go out unattended,” he fretted. “You saw Mason’s reaction to you going abroad yesterday.”

“Well yes,” she admitted. “But that was into town and a tavern, no less. This would just be on my own grounds and amongst my own people—” she broke off. “Oh! I see,” she said, feeling herself flush. She had forgotten for a moment how wildly unpopular she was.

Oswald looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry Linnet, I did not mean—”

“No, no,” she interrupted swiftly. “It’s quite alright. You were only thinking of my welfare after all.”

“Even so,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “It was clumsily done. Can I offer to accompany you to make up for it?”

“Only if you’re really sure it would not take you from more passing matters?”

“Oh, Mason can finish his blessed inventory with Robards,” shrugged Oswald. “The majority of it has been done now. I am at your disposal.”

“Well, I will be very happy to have your company, Brother,” she told him. “If you’re sure you are up to it?” Truth be told, he did look a little green around the gills.

“Fresh air will doubtless do me good,” he shrugged.

Once they were in the cart up behind the groom, Linnet found herself worried more than once at Oswald’s pallor. At one point as they bumped along a stony lane, he actually leant over the side and heaved, though mercifully he managed to hold his stomach.

“Diggory, please can you slacken off the pace,” she called to the driver who muttered darkly under his breath. “We are in no great hurry after all!”

Cuthbert was fascinated by Sir Oswald’s queasiness. He regarded him with a keen eye. “How much ale did you actually drink?” he asked with interest.

Oswald groaned.

“Leave him be, Cuthbert,” she tutted. “Poor Sir Oswald will be right as rain presently.” A thought occurred to her suddenly and, exclaiming, she turned to her page. “How are my freckles this morning?” she asked.

Cuthbert stared at her face a moment. “Plentiful milady,” he answered after a moment, then glanced up at the sunny sky. “’Tis likely you’ll have a few more by the day’s end too!”

Linnet’s face fell. “Oh bother, I have got quite used to going around and about without a veil thanks to my husband’s peculiar aversion to them!”

“He will doubtless grow used to them,” said Oswald, lifting his head from where he had it rested against the side of the cart. “So I wouldn’t worry overmuch.” He looked uneasy.

“Do you think so?” asked Linnet. “I thought it must have been a long-held conviction the way he simply won’t allow me to wear one!”

Oswald stared at her in confusion. “I beg your pardon,” he said faintly.