Page 67 of Her Baseborn Bridegroom

Lady Martindale let out a frightened squeak as her mother sucked in her cheeks.

“If you are granted an audience with the King,” answered Lady Doverdale with gravity. “It will only be after he has weighed up all the facts of the case from every angle.”

Linnet placed her napkin carefully on the table before her. “But how, pray, is he to do that Lady Doverdale?” she asked calmly. “When he is not in possession of any of them?”

Her hostess gazed at her sternly. “Are you so unfilial as to suggest your aunt and uncle are not best placed to represent you to the King?” she asked in an awful voice.

“Yes, quite frankly I am,” answered Linnet. “My aunt and uncle have abused their position as my trustees for years.”

Lady Doverdale’s thin lips flattened. She glanced speakingly towards the servants. “You have led a very sheltered life, Lady Linnet, and so are probably not aware how very serious an allegation that is to make. I would caution you to choose your words wisely at court. Things can be misconstrued and words treated as very dangerous weapons.”

“My life has not been so sheltered as you seem to think,” answered Linnet who had no intention of allowing herself to be browbeaten or cowed. Take that back to the servant’s quarters, she thought, catching the eye of a wide-eyed maid. “And if you think I am unaware of the grossly inaccurate rumors circulating around court about me for years you are quite wrong!” She could feel that two bright spots of color had appeared in her cheeks and twisted her skirts in her fingers beneath the table.

Lady Doverdale grudgingly inclined her head in acknowledgement of this. “Life at court is rife with rumor,” she said damningly. “It is a blight which affects us all.”

Linnet remembered Mason speaking of it once, although he referred to it as ‘spreading horseshit’ if memory served. “Yes, so my husband has told me,” she answered unthinkingly.

“Sir Mason has discussed court life with you?” asked Lady Doverdale sounding startled.

Not willingly, thought Linnet wryly, but she nodded her head anyway. “We are husband and wife, Lady Doverdale,” she said loftily. “Naturally, my husband discusses all aspects of his life with me.”

Lady Doverdale looked skeptical but kept her tongue.

“I am accustomed to taking exercise after breaking my fast,” Linnet commented as Lady Doverdale and her daughter led her towards the sitting area by the fire where several embroidery frames were set out. She was hanged if she was going to sit playing at needle-work this morning, as though nothing out of the ordinary was going on, when her marriage was in danger of being dissolved!

“Indeed? I had thought some quiet occupation might be better suited for you,” Lady Doverdale said with a frown. “In view of your delicate health.”

Linnet drew herself up to stand at her tallest height, which admittedly was not very tall. “My health is far from delicate, I assure you. I take daily exercise, ride, and manage my household accounts. I do not, I repeat do not, live the retired life of a semi-invalid.”

Lady Doverdale clicked her tongue. “Very well,” she said, clapping her hands so a servant sprang forward. “We will go for a walk in the long avenue. Fetch forth our cloaks.”

Linnet considered slipping a note to Cuthbert to take to Mason to ask him to meet her there, but in the end decided against it. After all, she little knew his movements this morn. ’Twas possible he was about important business.

XXII

Mason stared across the table at Lord Schaeffer, who shuffled his papers and coughed awkwardly.

“Feel awkward asking you these things, m’boy,” the older man said regretfully. “But the King’s orders, you understand. Got to do my duty for king and country, same as you.”

With great effort Mason managed not to point out that his duty had involved a series of bloody battlefields, not asking some poor bastard awkward questions about his marital relations!

He cleared his throat. “Of course,” he answered shortly. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

Glancing over at the scribe, he felt a tightening of foreboding in his gut.

“In the event of the marriage being deemed canonically invalid, a period of some three months would be necessary before remarriage to ensure the female were not expecting any issue from the union.” Lord Schaeffer paused and looked over the top of the papers at Mason questioningly. “What I am asking, Sir Mason, is would that precaution be entirely necessary in this instance?”

Mason narrowed his eyes, leaning forward in his chair. “There will be no question of invalidity, canonical or otherwise. And. There. Will. Be. No. Remarriage.”

Lord Schaeffer’s eyes widened with alarm. He coughed. “Erm, what I am trying to ask, with the utmost delicacy is—”

“I am well aware of what you’re asking me,” snapped Mason. “And I consider it to be a damned impertinence!”

Lord Schaeffer turned pale.

For Mason, it was the beginning of a long and annoying morning and as he snapped and snarled his answers to the increasingly intrusive questions, he wondered what version of marital interrogation Linnet was going to receive. His gut twisted when he thought of her being mortified by strangers. “When do I get to see the King?” he asked at the end of it.

Lord Schaeffer flinched. “Don’t think he’s too keen to get dragged in at the early stages, m’boy. Damn awkward for him with you being so recently promoted.”