Her Bastard Bridegroom: A Medieval Romance Page 10

  "Hmm, such sweet, sensitive little breasts," he said huskily. "Do you like that?"

  She bit her lip and squeezed her legs together, trying to shift against the pillows. "I-I'm not really sure..." she said breathlessly. At her slight movement, his other hand glided down, down until his fingers slid right into her curls and then the core of her, making her cry out in surprise.

  He gave an approving growl. "It seems like you do, Linnet."

  She tipped her head back to look at him as his finger slid up inside her. Her cheeks felt scorched. She held her breath.

  "Nice and wet for me," he said thickly. "When you're in my bed, that's what I expect. You naked and wet. Not to hear you talking about other men."

  Her eyes grew wide as they stared into his. "Naked? But I- Umm!" He'd added another finger. She squeezed her eyes shut. Oh my gods!

  "Look at me, Linnet," he said in a low insistent voice as he moved them inside her, making her breath hitch and her head toss on the pillow. She gazed up at him, her chest heaving. To her embarrassment his eyes dipped to her breasts again, though how she could be considering where his hand was, she did not know. Then with his eyes trained on her he tipped forward and began tonguing and sucking on her nipples again. Linnet gave a long, low moan and then his thumb brushed against something that made her almost shout out. "Mason!" she gasped, trying to sit up, but his weight had her pinned to the pillows. "Wha-?" He did it again and she felt herself tighten up against his fingers, squeezing him tight. Oh my gods, everything was connected to between her legs! And she could feel every stroke of his fingers, every circle of his thumb. Biting her lip so hard she thought she'd draw blood, she turned her face to the pillow and felt herself explode.

  Ragged breathing was the next thing she heard and at first she thought it was her own, until she realized Mason's mouth was against her ear, and he was on top of her now, solid and heavy. He'd removed his fingers from her now and filled her with something much bigger. He wasn't moving though. Just buried in her to the hilt, hard and throbbing.

  "Linnet," he rasped. "Gods, you're so tight, sweeting."

  She felt herself glow at the endearment and braced herself for the pain of his invasion. Strangely enough, she didn't feel it yet, she thought with a frown. There was no burning sting like before. Oh she felt the unfamiliar stretch, and the strange fullness. But no pain. She reached up to grasp his upper arms and tilted her hips against him to make sure.

  "Linnet," he gasped and thrust into her.

  "It doesn't hurt," she murmured and felt his face turn into her neck.

  He planted his palm at her side, lifting most of his weight off her and onto his arms. "That's good," he said richly and thrust again, harder this time. "That means," he groaned loudly. "I don't have to hold back this time."

  Linnet's eyes widened as he reached down with his other arm and grasped her behind the knee, lifting her leg over his hip, opening her further up to him. She held on tight as Mason ground and swore and hammered his way to release. He was a lot louder and more vigorous this time, and though it wasn't painful it was uncomfortable and peculiar and emotionally felt strangely raw. She felt guilty, protective and oddly privileged when he finally dropped his brow against her chest and collapsed his full weight against her with a filthy oath. She stroked his hair gently as his chest heaved against hers and when he rolled onto his back, he took her with him so she was plastered against his front. Maybe he had felt the same when she had her release earlier, she mused. This marital relations business was a very strange thing. He sighed and lifted one arm up behind his head to fling out some of the pillows until he only had one. His other hand slid from her hip to her backside and lightly squeezed her there. He must be embarrassed she thought, after his loud exertions and foul language. Not that it was his fault. She had been unable to stop moaning and gasping herself earlier when he was using his hands and mouth. If she knew any curse words perhaps she would have been using them? She lifted her head to give him a reassuring smile and awkwardly patted his chest to show him that everything was fine.

  "Next time," he said. "You'll find release when I'm inside you."

  Linnet's head jerked back, but his eyes had already drifted shut.

  "You can't mean for me sleep naked every night, surely?" she asked drowsily before tucking her head back into his chest.

  "I do," he answered. "And you will."

  Very, very strange, thought Linnet.

  XI

  Linnet woke early the next morning but had no chance to disentangle herself from Mason as he was firmly wrapped around her this time. Instead she lay pondering over his puzzling words the previous night. She hadn't even been talking about Chilton Jauncey, except to answer the questions he brought up, she thought indignantly. If she had told him what Enid had said she could have understood it, but she hadn't breathed a word of Lady Sybilla's matchmaking schemes! She was warm as toast with her big sleeping husband hugging her close and before over-long, she drifted back off to sleep. When next she woke it was a little after eight o'clock and she was alone in the bed. She knew Mason and Oswald were visiting with more of the tenants today and meant to make another full day of it, so she didn't tarry long over breakfast and and made haste to dress herself in a yellow gown with no train and puffed rather than long draped sleeves. If she was going into town with Lady Enid she did not want to be trailing in the muddy streets. She added her purse to the braided leather belt she wore low over her hips and after a moment’s hesitation, a wimple and veil. She wasn’t sure how much she would need for her new footwear, so she asked advice from Nan the maid who told her only to take a few coin for full payment would be settled on receipt of the goods. She selected her plainest black slippers and hoped they would hold up to outdoor wear at least for one morning and then sent Cuthbert to find her a cloak she could use. She really needed to commission some outdoor wear from a tailor she thought adding that mentally to her list. When her page reappeared with a serviceable dark brown cloak for her to wear, she found he had donned his own cape in readiness to accompany her, his eyes shining with excitement at the prospect of a trip into town. As she fastened the cloak she passed him two coins of his own to spend. “On a new whistle or perhaps a bun,” she suggested.

  “I hear horses!” he cried, dancing over to the window. “Tis lady Enid. And two other men!” he added with interest.

  Linnet frowned and joined him at the window. “But who are they?” she wondered aloud. One looked like it might be a footman but the other was definitely a nobleman in his scarlet hose. “Oh dear, I wonder if ‘tis Sir Chilton Jauncey,” she wondered aloud. When she had informed Mason of the trip the night before she had mentioned only Enid as company, not Enid's brother-in-law. With trepidation she remembered his strange words about her not visiting Jauncey Hall which now belonged to an unmarried man. Oh well, she thought with a shrug. She would not be visiting Jauncey Hall. Only going into town. She held her hand out to Cuthbert. “Come,” she said cheerfully. “We shall soon find out!”

  It turned out she had been quite correct in her surmising. Enid sent her an apologetic look as she approached their comfortably upholstered wagon. “Right sorry I am Linnet,” she said hastily. “But my mother-in-law would insist that Chilton accompany us today.”

  Linnet’s eyes flew to Chilton who was eyeing her with open curiosity. He gave her a quick smile. “Apologies for intruding on your adventure today,” he said smoothly. “I find it much simpler to simply fall in with my mother’s plans. Resistance is usually futile.” Chilton was short and rather slim with a well-trimmed triangular beard and a neat little moustache. His appearance was immaculate and he hopped down from the wagon and gave her the most elegant bow she had ever received.

  She smiled at him and curtseyed in return. “I am very happy to meet you, sir.”

  “Lady Linnet,” he murmured and helped her up into the wagon. “And who is this fine young sprig?” Cuthbert hopped up behind her, scorning any offer of help.

  “I am milady's
page,” said Cuthbert loftily. “In case her ladyship needs protection.”

  Sir Chilton laughed. “Very wise. That is the self-same reason I have bought Lawton,” he said tipping his head toward his burly footman. “You never know when you may need some muscle.” Linnet glanced at Lawton who indeed looked much bigger and stronger than his master.

  Linnet settled herself beside Enid who pressed her hand and mouthed ‘sorry’ with a wince. “Chilton is actually excellent company,” she murmured in a low voice. “It’s not his fault that Lady Lambert foisted him on us.”

  “I have no objection,” said Linnet politely. “I only hope that you will not be bored with the list of wares I must commission today, Sir Chilton.”

  “Unlikely,” responded Chilton cheerfully. “I am very fond of buying wares. What are our purchases to be today?” He tucked his own short ruched cape around himself. Although the sky was blue there was a definite chill in the morning air.

  “I have need of new sturdy shoes,” said Linnet. “And some warm outdoor clothes as I have none.”

  “Ah. We must visit Hatton to order the shoes,” he recommended. “An excellent shoemaker. He has three sons, all well apprenticed in the trade. And perhaps if we visit Linneman for the lengths of material. He has some very fine fabrics in stock.”

  “I have plenty of fabric,” said Linnet remembering the chests stuffed full of the finest wares. “Rather I need to commission a tailor. Is there one in town?”

  “There are several,” said Chilton agreeably. “But only two that are acceptable for such fine work. Allow me to direct you to Mr Postner off the high street. His work is really exceptional.”

  “Chilton is rather a connoisseur,” said Enid dryly. “Clothes are his particular expertise.”

  He gave a modest bow while seated. “I am not ashamed to admit it,” he said running a critical eye over Linnet’s cloak. “If you will permit me to say, my dear Lady Linnet. That cloak is a monstrosity.”

  Cuthbert sat up straight with an annoyed exclamation. “I borrowed that myself,” he said indignantly.

  “Borrowed from whom?” asked Sir Chilton with interest.

  “Mrs Perkins the housekeeper.”

  Linnet laughed and both Chilton and Enid turned curious eyes on her. “It was very kind of her to lend it to me. You see,” she explained with a shrug. “As an invalid, I have never had need of one before.”

  “Well you are an invalid no more,” said Enid warmly and she shot a look at her brother-in-law.

  Chilton looked amused. “Such a fascinating story,” he said.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” frowned Enid. “I’m afraid Lady Jauncey has been spreading the story far and wide.”

  “Not at all,” Linnet hastened to assure her. “Indeed, I am heartily glad to hear it. Perhaps then people will stop expecting me to limp or have a hunched back.”

  Chilton laughed again. “What a pair of villains those Jevons’ were!” he marveled. “Poor mother is most put out.” He kept up a steady flow of conversation as they made their way into town and Linnet found him most entertaining. Enid was quieter today and seemed content to let Chilton lead the small talk. Once they reached town he was a veritable god-send, hailing the shoe-maker as an old friend and insisting that the oldest Hatton son, Jonathan was commissioned to make her both a pair of outdoor ankle boots and a pair of sturdier leather shoes. “Johnny has the lightest touch ,” said Chilton fondly and Jonathan Hatton cleared his throat, blushing like a boy for all he had to be in his mid-twenties. Old Mr Hatton measured Linnet’s feet and scribbled down the proportions. “A very dainty foot, milady,” he said. “With delicate arches.”

  It crossed Linnet’s mind he might have been expecting bunions, but she tried not to mind as she smiled at the old man and left her down-payment for the work.

  “Lady Linnet will no doubt have much trade for you from the castle now she has taken over from her aunt,” said Enid imperiously. “You do realize she is Linnet Cadwallader that was?”

  All three of Mr Hatton’s sons turned to stare at her in wonder.

  “A miraculous recovery my lady,” said the shoe-maker. “Allow us to congratulate you on your restored health.”

  "Er, thank you," said Linnet breathlessly, she could feel her face filling with color. It must look quite hideous with all her freckles! "You're very kind."

  Mr Postner the tailor greeted Sir Chilton just as warmly and agreed to visit Castle Cadwallader in a week’s time to measure her for a full-set of outdoor wear. He was goggle-eyed at the idea of making clothes for the Cadwallader invalid-bride. “A fur lined hood and gloves,” he murmured jotting down notes. “To keep Lady Linnet snug and warm.”

  “He will dine off this tale for weeks,” murmured Enid.

  “A very elegant figure,” he pronounced. “And now your health is stabilized who knows, perhaps you will need a full court wardrobe in time?” he rubbed his hands together in anticipation of new commissions.

  “I am quite sure that Lady Linnet’s social engagements will necessitate many new gowns,” said Sir Chilton with confidence as he leant against the counter looking through sketches. “As for myself I find myself in need of a new tunic for Lawton. This current one really does not make the most of his remarkable physique.”

  Mr Postner hurried around to take Lawton’s measurements as Enid rolled her eyes at Linnet.

  “One of Chilton’s many quirks,” she said in an aside. “He dresses his favorite man-servants almost as well as himself.”

  Linnet looked over at Lawton whose current outfit was certainly very fine.

  “I can understand that,” she said running a hand over Cuthbert’s blonde bobbed hair. “I always like for Cuthbert to look neat and tidy.”

  Cuthbert’s eyes were as round as the pennies he kept jingling in his pocket. “We’re not going back to the castle yet are we?” he asked anxiously as they exited the tailor’s establishment.

  “Certainly not,” expostulated Sir Chilton. “A meat pie and a nice flagon of ale is what we all need now, and I know just the place!”

  “Not an inn,” said Enid with misgiving. “Some of them are rather rough in town,” she said to Linnet in explanation.

  “Fear not, dear sister-in-law,” said Chilton. “We have Lawton here to protect us,” he said slapping his well-built footman on the back. “And besides, I have the coin to procure us a private room away from the common rabble.”

  Enid pursed her lips and slipped her arm through Linnet’s.

  Cuthbert danced a little two-step along the street. “I sometimes come into this one with my Grandmother,” he told Linnet as Sir Chilton led them to a large timbered building with a sign proclaiming ‘The Bear & Staff’. “Some man tried to pick Gran’s pocket and she put a curse on him.”

  “A curse?” echoed Enid in surprise.

  “Cuthbert’s grandmother is a wise woman,” explained Linnet quietly as she ducked through the door.

  It smelt musty and of stale ale in the inn. As Linnet’s eyes adjusted to the dark she found several pairs trained on them in surly curiosity.

  “A private room, my man,” cried out Chilton who did not seem one whit cowed by the atmosphere of the place.

  A thin man in a grubby apron hurried forward. “This way, my lord, my ladies” he said fawningly and led them to a narrow corridor leading to a room out the back.

  Walking through the main room was an education for Linnet. The floor rushes were dirty and smelt. The clientele were also somewhat odorous and villainous looking. She could only be grateful that Sir Chilton had procured them a private chamber. Cuthbert skipped behind her looking a picture of serenity. She noticed he even bobbed his head in acknowledgement of a few of the customers as if he knew them! Enid’s face was a careful blank as they were seated around a low sticky table in a small somewhat grubby looking room. She looked resigned rather than curious and Linnet guessed that unlike her, she had frequented an ale-house before.

  “What fare have you today, sirrah?”
asked Chilton jauntily. “We’re hungry and thirsty and in need of sustenance.”

  “There’s pie,” answered the custodian, scratching his head. “And ale.”

  “What sort of pie?” asked Enid suspiciously.

  He shrugged. “Meat. Or pottage.”

  “Pottage pie?” echoed Linnet, her ears perking up. She’d never heard of putting pottage in a pie crust before! “I’ll take one of those.”

  “Yes but what sort of meat?” asked Enid persistently.

  The server shrugged. “Whatever went into the pot today, likely as not.”

  “Gran says you’re not to ask,” answered Cuthbert in a hushed voice. “If’n a carthorse keeled over in the yard, he’ll end up in the meat pie.”

  Enid shuddered. “Pottage pie for me also.”

  “Two pottage pies and two meat pies, my man,” said Chilton. “And a jug of ale with four cups.” He winked at Cuthbert. “We’re not so faint-hearted, eh my lad?”

  “What of Lawton?” asked Cuthbert looking round in surprise.

  “Oh don’t you worry about Lawton,” said Chilton. “He’s stood in the corridor. Making sure we’re not disturbed.”

  Linnet felt grateful that Sir Chilton was not as wholly oblivious to the dubious company as he appeared. She was starting to enjoy the novelty of the experience now that there were no curious stares trained on them. Reaching up, she adjusted her veil and smiled at the server when he set down their ale before them. He gave a start when he saw her visage.

  “Begging your pardon ma’am,” he started hesitantly. “But …”

  “That’s Lady Vawdrey to you, damn your impudence,” said Sir Chilton sitting up straight.

  “It’s alright Sir Chilton,” said Linnet hurriedly.

  “This is Johnny Wickers, milady,” said Cuthbert loudly. “His old mam lives in one of your cottages.”

  “Oh indeed,” said Linnet, feeling her cheeks fill with color. Suddenly she felt ill at ease again, thinking of Mason’s talk of exorbitant taxes on her people.