Page 58 of Her Baseborn Bridegroom

“Your pardon. Ah, here come Cuthbert with some drinks.” Her page had brought apple wine and fruit pastries. “I only hope it can compare with The Bear’s hospitality,” she joked.

“Oh that awful place!” exclaimed Enid. “My mother-in-law was quite horrified when she heard Chilton had taken us there!”

Linnet laughed. “I am heartily glad he did. It was very educational.”

Cuthbert looked up from unloading the tray. “My master has said milady must have a posted guard now whenever she goes forth.”

“Goodness!” said Enid in dismay. “Not because of our visit to town, surely?”

Cuthbert gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Not that alone,” said Linnet quickly. “My husband is merely conscious of my safety. I’m afraid I am not a popular landowner amongst my tenants.”

“Why ever not?” asked Enid, helping herself to a pastry.

“My reputation as a peevish invalid and the heavy taxes my uncle levied in my name,” answered Linnet sadly. “I have much to make reparation for.”

“Well, that is hardly your fault,” said Enid defensively. “And ’tis most unfair if the people hold you accountable. I never had anything to do with the rent Lambert charged our tenants.”

“But you were married into your husband’s estate,” pointed out Linnet. “Cadwallader Castle has been in my family for generations.”

“Folks are coming round now they know you don’t have a humpback,” said Cuthbert helpfully.

“Thank you, Cuthbert,” Linnet said, with a frown. “But I’m sure I could have had a humpback and been a good landlord.”

“‘Sides,” said Cuthbert. “I heard someone say you’re much more agreeable now your husband takes a stick to you.”

The ladies gasped and Enid turned to Linnet in horror. “He doesn’t beat you?” she gasped.

“Of course not! Cuthbert, wherever did you hear such a wicked thing?”

“In the tavern,” her page responded, chewing on a grape.

“The tavern we went in the other day?”

He plucked another grape. “No, the one on the other side of town. I went with granny.”

“Well!” exclaimed Linnet. “What wicked lies! Who on in the world could have been spreading such rumors?”

“Servants, likely as not,” nodded Enid. “They thrive on salacious gossip. One time Lambert and I had a flaming row over dinner and my great-aunt from three towns away wrote to scold me about it the following month. She had heard about it from her tailor.”

Linnet thought uneasily of Mason kicking their bedroom door open that morning and the maid scurrying off. Is it possible the servants were drawing entirely the wrong conclusions? “That reminds me,” she said aloud. “Mr. Postner visited us this morning for my new wardrobe fitting.”

Enid clapped her hands. “Oh, I do hope you ordered your cloak in green. Green is said to be the most complimentary of all colors for redheads.”

Linnet frowned. “No, I don’t think we picked a single cloth in green. Mr. Postner was most fixated on shades of blue. He was quite insistent on the matter.”

“I daresay he knows what he is about,” shrugged Enid. “Chilton swears by him.”

“Will you stay to dinner, Enid?” Linnet asked politely. “Then you could meet my husband.”

“Oh no, I daren’t. Lady Jauncey will be simply furious if I am not home before dark.” She hesitated. “I think I should warn you, Linnet. She has been corresponding with your aunt.”

“Aunt Millicent?” Linnet lowered her goblet of apple wine.

“She is at court. I believe at first my aunt was very angry with her, but now they seem thick as thieves once more. Hardly a day goes by that she does not receive some missive from Lady Jevons.”

Linnet’s heart sank.