Page 74 of Her Baseborn Bridegroom
“You look confused.”
“Be quiet, Oswald.”
His brother laughed.
Mason lapsed into brooding silence. “I can’t wait a month for all this to be resolved,” he said heavily.
“I agree,” said Oswald. “I think we need to speak to Roland.”
Mason steepled his fingers under his chin. “How do we lure him out?”
Oswald gave a short crack of laughter. “If I know Roland,” he said. “And I do rather well, unfortunately, he’ll be getting heartily sick of the Jevonses by now. He’s got the Vawdrey lack of patience. The idea of having to be one of Sir Jevons’s cronies for another four weeks will fill his black little heart with horror.”
“Yes, but—” Mason broke off with a scowl. “What of when he finally meets Linnet?”
“What of it?” asked Oswald. “He’ll find out she’s not some frail little invalid to be bossed about and shut in a tower for the rest of her days.”
Mason glowered. “That better be all he realizes.”
Oswald grinned. “Believe me, he’ll only need to take one look at your face and he’ll realize how things lie.”
Mason grunted. “Do you think he’ll come to us?”
“Not to you, no. You’re not in the least approachable. To me? Maybe.”
“I want my wife back, Oswald.”
His brother got up and crossed the room. “I know,” he said and gripped Mason’s shoulder. “I think I can get us into the royal levee tomorrow morning. Lord Schaeffer once invited me to join the King’s privy council. I could get us admitted.”
“Why didn’t you join?” asked Mason with curiosity. Suddenly it occurred to him how well a diplomatic career would suit his older brother.
“Oh, I intend to in good time. What use is a private counsellor to the King who’s never seen the battlefield?”
Mason blinked in surprise. He was pretty sure the King had plenty of advisors who never set foot out of the palace! And he had had no idea of his brother’s political ambitions. He wondered briefly if their father was even aware.
“Besides, I wasn’t about to let you ride off to war on your own. Someone needs to keep an eye on you. Now you’ve got Linnet, I can stop worrying about you.”
“Worrying about me?” repeated Mason blankly.
“Of course,” shrugged Oswald. “What else are big brothers for?”
XXVIII
Linnet was not best pleased to hear she was to attend the Queen’s levee the following morning. She knew next to nothing about Queen Armenal, who was the King’s second wife and from a rather obscure western isle. She had only been married to Wymer for nine months, following the tragic death of his first wife Queen Eleanor in childbirth. According to popular rumor she could be difficult and she was an arch manipulator.
“Is this my royal presentation?” she asked Lady Doverdale with misgiving. She pushed away the butter dish and frowned at her toasted bread. She felt a quiver of alarm that was stealing her appetite. She also felt a little sick.
“Queen Armenal has the King’s ear when it suits her,” replied Lady Doverdale in measured tones. “I secured this introduction as a particular favor to you, Linnet.” Her tone was reproachful. “It was not easy.”
“And I appreciate that, Lady Doverdale,” Linnet assured her hastily. “’Tis only that I feel ill prepared to meet the Queen.”
Lady Doverdale shrugged. “Then prepare yourself,” she said simply. “You may not get another chance.”
Directly after breakfast, Linnet changed from her practical, orange wool dress into her jonquil yellow which was made of silk with long lacing along the sleeves. Sadly, she did not think the color suited her as well, but it was definitely better suited for meeting a queen. Staring into the glass while Gertie braided her hair with matching ribbon, she thought she had never looked plainer. Her freckles stood out, almost obscuring her every feature. Gertie pinned a light gauzy veil high at the back of her head and draped it artfully so it fell like a waterfall.
“I seen the ladies wearing it like this at court, milady,” she said smugly at Linnet’s surprised face. “Maybe even the master would like it this way?”
“Nothing escapes the servant’s hall, does it?” asked Linnet with a small smile. Even Mason’s dislike of veils.
