Page 68 of Her Baseborn Bridegroom

Mason squeezed the arm of his chair, imagining it was Roland’s neck.

XXIII

It was a pleasant walk in the long avenue which was lined with oak and beech trees. Lady Martindale had cried off with a slight cough, but Lady Doverdale was made of stronger stuff, and they kept a brisk pace. Linnet could not be unaware of the heads that swiveled and the excited whispers that followed them. She kept her chin high in the air and marched determined to keep apace with her companion.

“How far a walk is it into town?” she asked in a loud, clear voice which she hoped would carry. “I do enjoy a nice, long constitutional walk in the mornings.”

“You will not be permitted off castle grounds at present, Lady Linnet,” her guardian pointed out drily. “You are the King’s guest here and would require permission.”

“And how does one apply for permission?” answered Linnet, not to be put off. “I should so like to visit on market day.”

Lady Doverdale frowned. “Market day is extremely busy and chaotic, Lady Linnet. You would require a male escort for such a visit.”

“Oh that’s fine,” she answered breezily. “I could simply ask my husband after all!”

There was a heavy silence and someone in the background tittered.

Lady Doverdale cursed under her breath and Linnet looked up sharply to see an approaching gaggle of women. At the head of them, scarlet cheeked and completely out of breath was her aunt, Lady Jevons. She must have run the whole way to head them off. Linnet felt a spurt of anger at the sight of her skinny aunt with her busybody lady companions. Today she wore a very large headdress with buns over each ear and a gold net holding them in place. Her dress was royal blue, slashed with scarlet which had the unfortunate effect of matching her red face.

“Niece!” she squawked. “What a surprise to see you here!” She looked around, noting the onlookers with satisfaction. “At last,” she puffed. “We are reunited. You poor, poor child!” She flung her arms out to embrace Linnet who smartly sidestepped her.

“Aunt Millicent,” she said coolly. “Why, how out of breath you are! You should take more exercise. You look quite rubicund.”

A spasm of annoyance showed on her aunt’s face, but she made a swift attempt to mask it. “What are you doing out of doors, you poor, misguided girl. You will surely suffer an inflammation of your lungs!”

“Nonsense, Aunt,” Linnet flatly contradicted her. “I enjoy regular exercise these days now I am no longer shut up in that tower all day long.” The crowd murmured as Lady Doverdale and her aunt exchanged deep curtsies.

“Oh, Lady Doverdale,” twittered her aunt. “I do hope you are taking good care of my dear niece. Her uncle and I have been so worried! She has led a very sheltered life you know.”

“So I’ve heard,” answered Lady Doverdale briskly.

It occurred to Linnet that there was no love lost between the two, which heartened her no end. “Not so sheltered now, thank you,” Linnet corrected her. “I’ve been thinking I should be presented, now I am finally at court.” In truth, it had only just this moment popped into her head, but it occurred to Linnet that if she could show as many people as possible that she was in good health it might aid her cause.

Her aunt’s face fell. “Oh I don’t think that’s a good notion at all, my dear. Not with your precarious health.”

“I’ve told you, aunt, my health is excellent,” said Linnet forcefully. She turned to Lady Doverdale. “As my current guardian, would you be so kind as to consider such a request?” she asked.

Her aunt made a choked sound of rage and a small smile appeared on Lady Doverdale’s face. She inclined her head. “I will consider it.”

“Thank you,” answered Linnet with satisfaction. “Goodbye, Aunt,” she said pointedly and stepped around her aunt.

“Wait! I mean, but where are you going? I insist that you return to your bed to recover from your journey!”

Linnet waved a vague hand and continued on her way, doggedly ignoring her aunt’s shrill tones which continued to echo up the avenue.

Lady Doverdale inhaled a deep breath. “Perhaps you should tell me about this time you spent shut up in a tower?” she suggested grudgingly.

XXIV

Mason had returned to his quarters after the frustrating interview with Lord Schaeffer. He found his father there full of fury and railing about Roland, who it seemed was holed up with the Jevonses in their chambers.

“Wouldn’t even see me!” he bellowed. “His own father! Skulking along with that pair of weasels like a—like their little lapdog!”

Oswald tutted and poured wine for all of them.

Mason took his wordlessly. In truth, he didn’t wonder that Roland was giving them a wide berth. Probably the wisest thing the little swine could have done.

“Roland’s being manipulated by the Jevonses,” Oswald said in his most reasonable voice. “We all know that.”