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“I did not mean to shut you out,” she breathed raggedly. “Never, never, never . . . ”

“Don’t,” he groaned raggedly, his own eyes closing.

“Husband?”

For some twisted reason, he felt pure pleasure at being addressed thus whilst deep inside her.

“Wife,” he whispered huskily, lowering his brow until their foreheads touched.

For one moment, they both stared into each other’s eyes, hovering on the brink of bliss together, and then he felt her tip over the edge, her cunny tightening and convulsing around him until with a shout he found himself spilling inside her. Holy hells. He dropped his face into her neck and concentrated on keeping the top of his head intact. He felt Linnet’s knees squeeze into his still-moving hips as she gasped into his shoulder.

“Don’t move,” he rasped, desperate to maintain their physical connection.

In answer, her arms reached up to wind about his neck, holding him close. He felt the strangest ache in his chest, which didn’t dissipate until he wrapped his arms around her in return. They lay quiet and still, the only sound in the room their labored breathing. When he felt her gently start to stroke his hair he knew he should pull away, but didn’t.

Because he was a fucking idiot.

XV

Linnet had her first riding lesson two days later with Diggory in the long meadow. He brought a very steady mare called Fira for her, and a pony for Cuthbert named Cadby, who had rather more spirit. Linnet immediately fell for Fira, who had gentle eyes and a patient manner. Cuthbert and Cadby’s relationship was a lot more contentious, and Linnet’s little page was trodden on and bucked off twice before their lesson was done. Cuthbert seemed to take it all in good part, although Linnet found herself wincing more than once in sympathy.

“You got to show them who’s master,” Diggory told him sternly. He turned back to Linnet. “You’m doin’ very nicely miss. I mean, your ladyship.”

“Thank you, Diggory. I mean to practice every day.”

His eyes widened a bit at this and he scratched his head. “Don’t want you to overdo it, Lady Vawdrey,” he cautioned.

“Oh, I won’t, I assure you. I just mean to do a little.”

“Lady Linnet climbs her old tower every morning ten times before breakfast,” said Cuthbert, whose pony was now cantering in a wide circle on a leading string, while Linnet followed at a rather more sedate pace with Diggory holding onto the bridle. Fira’s legs were twice as long as Cadby’s so they kept pretty much apace.

“Twelve times this morning,” she announced proudly.

Diggory’s eyes bugged out again. “He’s never got you running soldier’s drills?”

“Pardon?”

He coughed. “The master.”

Linnet’s frown cleared. “Oh, I see! No, though perhaps I should ask him for some?” she suggested with a laugh.

Diggory blinked.

“It is merely my own pursuit in the improvement of my health,” she explained.

“Granny told her to,” puffed Cuthbert as his pony once again tried to dislodge him from his saddle.

“Oh the wise woman!” muttered Diggory. “Well, that’s different.”

“Why’s Rolfe stood watching our lesson?” asked Cuthbert indignantly over his shoulder. “Gawping at us! Hey Rolfe!”

Rolfe, who was polishing his pikestaff over by the fence, straightened up and levelled a glare at Cuthbert. “Doing my duty, master saucebox!” he shouted back promptly. He then bowed at Linnet and flushed all over his round, homely face.

“Hush, Cuthbert!” shushed Linnet hastily. “Sir Mason has asked for us to be accompanied by a guard every time we leave the castle. ’Tis a cautionary measure only.”

“What for?” asked Cuthbert rudely. “You’ve got me for your guard.” He puffed out his chest.

“Indeed I do,” Linnet smiled at him. “But sometimes husbands are a little overprotective.” She noticed Diggory was staring at this and rubbing his stubbly chin. “Are you married, Diggory?”