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“Only the best for the Doverdales,” sniffed Gertie who was clearly bursting with news. Before Linnet could question her further, her maid started combing her hair. “Wash up, milady,” she urged her. “They’ll be expecting you to join them at breakfast.”

“They?” asked Linnet, rubbing the soap over her wet hands and face.

“Lady Doverdale and her daughter, Lady Martindale.”

“Oh, of course.” After a hurried wash and brush up, Gertie hurried about selecting her yellow stockings and her copper-patterned houppelande dress, which was Linnet’s least favorite. She hadn’t realized they had brought it and pulled a face. Still, if she wanted to hear Gertie’s news, she did not have time to change it. Instead the two of them pulled together, and she was soon dressed and presentable with a simple headband holding her linen veil in place over her hair, which was braided and pinned at the nape of her neck. Mason may not like veils, but to the world at large not wearing one meant you were unmarried. She did not want anyone to get that impression here.

“Lady Doverdale is the dowager Countess of Doverdale,” explained Gertie. “Her husband, the Earl of Doverdale, died fifteen years ago and was an advisor to the former king. Their family is still influential at court so she has been made your guardian while the appeal is considered by the King. Lady Jevons is spitting mad about it, as she wanted you to be placed as Sir Jevons’s ward under their protection straight away.”

Linnet felt a lurch of unease and touched Mason’s ring for reassurance. “Oh dear,” she muttered. “Maybe I should have been politer to Lady Doverdale last night!”

“Oh no, miss!” Gertie corrected her. “According to the staff she’s a right old tartar and only respects those what stands up to her! If you had taken it meek like, she’d have ridden roughshod right over you for the next month.”

“Month?”

“That’s how long these appeals usually takes, apparently,” nodded Gertie wisely.

“A month?” repeated Linnet in alarm. “Truly? I had no idea it would take that long!” Why, she had been married less than two months!

“Yes miss, I mean, milady.”

“What else?”

“Well,” said Gertie, kneeling down to fasten Linnet’s shoes. “The court is buzzing, absolutely buzzing, about the scandal. How Sir Roland sided with the Jevonses against his own kin, saying he was done out of your dowry.”

Linnet pressed her lips together in displeasure. That scoundrel Roland!

“And―begging your pardon milady―but I’m only repeating the gossip . . . ”

“Yes, never mind that,” Linnet assured her.

Gertie bit her lip. “The rumor was . . . for years apparently . . . that you were hideously ugly, milady, like a toad in a dress.”

Linnet gasped.

Gertie rushed on “But now the Jevonses have been telling everyone that you’re on death’s door and terribly frail and a puff of wind could carry you off. So now everyone feels sorry for you and thinks it’s a shame you’ve been treated so unhandsomely like.”

Linnet’s fingers tapped against the arm of the chair in irritation. She swallowed the words that flew to her lips, not wanting to interrupt Gertie’s flow.

“They said as how Roland understood you’d have to be treated gentle like, and that Mason is a great, hulking brute of a husband who beats you and treats you cruelly so as you’re terrified of him.”

“What nonsense,” burst out Linnet.

Gertie sucked in a breath. “I know, miss,” her eyes shone with excitement. “You should have seen how excited they all were when I told them whose maid I was! Why, I was treated like a queen! Chair by the fire, best cut of bacon, the works!”

“Well, that’s very nice Gertie,” said Linnet, her head spinning. Toad in a dress, indeed! “But . . . ”

The door opened and Cuthbert came dancing in, his mouth full of sugar biscuit. “The Doverdales are awaiting breakfast on you, milady,” he said, brushing the crumbs off his tunic.

“Have you been down to the kitchens too?” asked Linnet with misgiving.

A beatific smile spread across Cuthbert’s face. “They’m ever so nice down there, milady. Only fancy, they made me tell them that tale of you going to The Bear three times in a row.”

Linnet groaned. The rumors about her at court were only going to get more lurid at this rate!

Breakfast with Lady Doverdale was a strained affair. Her hostess was starchy and disapproving, and her daughter, Lady Martindale, was like a terrified little mouse, too meek to even lift her eyes from her plate. They were served pandemain bread and three fish dishes. None of the foods which Linnet favored were brought to table so she was forced to eat white bread and fruit and some watered-down wine. She did not like to ask for milk or oats in case this was considered invalid’s fare.

“When do I get my audience with the King?” asked Linnet as the table was cleared away by their servants.