Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Blaze's birthday fete over, her sisters departed for home the following day looking greatly forward to their return a week before Christmas, when they would come with their entire family. Bliss and Blythe were glowing with happiness, and despite the cold weather rode proudly beside their intended husbands. Within the coach Delight huddled morosely. She had never felt more gloomy in her entire life. Blaze was radiantly happy in her marriage. The twins had both found love at first sight. Delight knew that their father would heartily approve of both Lord Kingsley and the Earl of Marwood. The spring would see those weddings celebrated at Ashby.

Delight sighed as a great wash of self-pity engulfed her. She would be fourteen next June, and she was practically a woman. She was just as ready to be wed as were her three older sisters. Why could no one else see it? Why could not Anthony Wyndham see it? His mother liked her, she knew, and Lady Dorothy wanted her son married. Why could not that good lady realize that Delight Morgan was the perfect choice for Anthony Wyndham?

The tears flowed unchecked down Delight's pretty face, and she was glad that Bliss and Blythe were riding outside the carriage. How they would mock her. Only her brother-in-law, Edmund, understood the true depth of her feelings about Anthony. He had taken her upon his knee last night when she had been feeling so despondent, and said to her that the man who wed with her one day would be most fortunate. Then he told her that Tony would be going to court to find a wife after Twelfth Night. When she had wept into his velvet-clad shoulder he had comforted her with sweetmeats and said Tony was not worthy of her. But he was!

She cried all the harder with the memory, realizing suddenly that she felt simply awful. Her head hurt. She felt nauseous, and her belly was cramping dreadfully. Miserable, she curled herself into a tight ball and attempted to sleep. She was secretly pleased when upon arriving home at Ashby her woeful state took immediate precedence over the twins' news. Her mother hurried her off to Old Ada, who upon undressing Delight discovered the reason for the girl's misery.

"Look, my lady! Look! Did I not say that Delight's womanhood was upon her? And here is her first flux! I am never wrong!" the old woman crowed, pleased. She took the young girl's bloodstained petticoats and handed them to a serving wench. "Take these to the laundress, Mab!"

Delight almost shouted with her joy at this turn of events. She felt suddenly better. Now they could not say she was too young for marriage! Now she had a chance with Anthony Wyndham, and come Christmastide she would make her move. She stood quietly while Old Ada bathed her, and her mother explained the proper ways a woman in her condition cared for herself. Fed warm mulled wine and tucked into bed with a flannel-wrapped hot brick at her feet, Delight drifted off into a pleasant dream.

On the eighteenth of December the entire Morgan family along with a few especially chosen servants descended upon RiversEdge.

"I hope we will not be crowding them out," fretted Lady Rosemary, who had no real idea of the size of the house which her eldest daughter now managed. "The whole family seems like a great deal of people to me, especially now that Bliss and Blythe are betrothed and their fiances will be there. Lord Kingsley's widowed mother has been invited too. I do hope she will like Blythe."

"I am certain," Lord Robert soothed his wife, "that Blaze is in full control of the situation. She would not have asked us all had she not the room. As for old Lady Kingsley, I am certain that she will love Blythe as we all do."

Still Rosemary Morgan fretted until, finally gaining her first glimpse of RiversEdge, her pretty mouth fell open in amazement. " 'Tis a palace!" she gasped, for although she had never seen a palace, she was certain that one must be as gorgeous as was this house.

"Nay, just a great house," her husband replied with more aplomb than he was feeling. He had seen somewhat more than his wife in his lifetime, but although he would not let her know it, even he was surprised by the magnificent house that was now his daughter's home.

The carriages carrying Lord Morgan, his family, and his servants rolled onward down the hill road from the village and into the large courtyard of RiversEdge. As the Morgans and their retainers stepped from their vehicles, they found themselves warmly greeted by both Blaze and Edmund, who had hurried from the house at the first sounds of their arrival and as quickly drew them inside, where all the many fireplaces were blazing merrily.

"We've only asked the immediate family, and those about to be," apologized Edmund. "I hope it will not be too dull a time for you, belle mère."

"Nay, my lord, I like family best on these occasions," said Rosemary Morgan, her quick eye counting over twenty people excluding servants within the Great Hall.

Blaze had waited until her sisters' arrival to decorate the house, and so the following morning while the men went out upon their first hunt for the Christmas boar, the women hurried off to seek and cut the greens. When the men returned that night unsuccessful in their quest, they found the women had not been at all unsuccessful during their day. RiversEdge was garlanded with evergreens, holly, boxwood, laurel, and bay. Each room was fragrant with sweet smelling pine, and Christmas candles, which were representative of the Star of Bethlehem, had been placed upon the mantels and sideboards and any other flat surface that would contain them.

Anthony Wyndham was unanimously appointed the Lord of Misrule over the festivities, and he immediately ordered a game of blindman's buff. Even Blaze was encouraged by her husband to join in, which she did with much relish, and was soon as tousled as the rest of her guests. Delight deliberately allowed herself to be caught by Anthony, and when asked what forfeit she would pay, boldly said, "A kiss!" Recognizing his victim by both her size and voice, Tony turned his head just slightly at the proper moment, and to her vast disappointment, Delight found her lips making contact with his cheek, which was not at all the way she had planned it. Before she might protest, however, she found herself blindfolded, and It.

On the twenty-first of December, which was the Feast of Saint Thomas, they entertained parties of children from each of the Langford estate's nine villages, who came a-wassailing into the Great Hall of RiversEdge.

Wassail, wassail, through the town,If you've got any apples, throw them down;If you've got no apples, money will do;The jug is white and the ale is brown,This is the best house in the town! ...

piped the enthusiastic young voices to their master and mistress and all their assembled guests. Each child was rewarded with a small silver penny, and Lord Robert and his wife marveled to themselves at their son-in-law's great generosity.

The twenty-third of December finally saw the gentlemen hunters successful, and a great boar with ugly curved tusks was brought home trussed securely between two poles. Little Gavin Morgan, who was almost six, rode excitedly ahead of the hunting party as they returned, triumphantly blowing upon his hunting horn. It had been his first grown-up hunt, and he could not sleep that night for his excitement.

The twenty-fourth of December saw the Yule log cut from the trunk of a huge fallen ash, hauled in from the forest through the Great Hall, and set into the huge main fireplace, which it more than filled. Everyone in the household from the lowliest scullion to the earl himself had pushed and pulled the great Yule log to its final resting place, for it was considered good luck to do so.

It was Blaze's duty as mistress of RiversEdge to light the Yule log. Custom dictated that each year's log must be first lit with a brand from the previous year's log, which had been kept safe beneath the bed of the lady of the house. As Edmund Wyndham had not formally celebrated this holiday the year before due to his first wife's death, it was now the brand from Catherine Wyndham's last Yule log that he gave to Blaze. Their eyes met as she thrust the burning brand into the dry kindling, and she somehow felt that in completing this simple act she was truly Edmund's wife, and the Countess of Langford. Catherine Wyndham, God assoil her good soul, was now only memory.

There had been much singing and laughter, and now that the huge log burned red-gold within the Great Hall's main fireplace, all were served ale, and a merry Christmas was toasted. From the minstrel's gallery now came music. Special Yule cakes were served along with hot Christmas frumenty, which was fine hulled wheat boiled in milk and sweetened with a sugar loaf. This was a very special treat for the servants, for sugar was a precious commodity.

Shortly before midnight they departed for Saint Michael's church, reaching it just on the hour as the bells in the church tower, and all over England, joyously tolled in the Christmas. The bells celebrated not only Christ's birth but also the firm Christian belief that that birth signaled the devil's destruction. Stepping from their carriages, the earl, his family, and his guests entered the church to celebrate the first Mass of Christmas.

The night was calm and black. The stars above surely as sharp and bright as the very night of the Nativity itself. From within Saint Michael's came the pure high voices of the church's choristers, their clear tones floating to the heavens as they sang.

Venite adoremus, Dominum!Venite adoremus, Dominum!

and,Gloria! Gloria in excelsis Deo!

Within the church there was barely room to move, for everyone from the eldest soul to the littlest children in the villages and outlying farms of Michaelschurch and Wyeton had come to share the Christmas Mass with the earl and his beautiful countess. Blaze did not believe that she had ever been happier than she was at this moment, her hand tucked into her husband's hand, her beloved family about her. Only one thing would make her life perfect. A child. Next year, she prayed. Let me stand in your house on Christmas next with my child, O Lord!

Returning to the house, she made certain that all her guests were comfortable before taking her own rest. "I have sent Heartha to her own bed," she told Edmund. "You will have to be my tiring woman, my lord."

"Not an unpleasant task, my sweet," he told her, turning her about so he might unlace her. Tossing her jeweled bodice aside, he slid his hands into her chemise front, cupping her round breasts within his hands. Teasingly he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, and grinned to himself, pleased when he felt the flesh pucker beneath his touch. The softness within his hands grew taut and firm as his kisses moved from her rounded shoulder to the junction between her shoulder and neck.

"Hmmmmmmmmm," came her murmur, and arching her back, she pressed her little buttocks into his groin, rotating her hips as she did so. Feeling his length harden against her, it was Blaze's turn to smile.

"Witch!" he groaned through gritted teeth as she increased her sensuous little movements.

Blaze laughed low, and moved out of her husband's grasp. Turning about to face him, she loosened her skirts and petticoats, allowing them to slip to the floor. Stepping away from the colorful pile of fabric, she pulled her chemise over her head, and but for velvet shoes and dark knit stockings, was nude.

"Come, sir, my nightrail," she teased him.

Edmund Wyndham's dark brown eyes burned with open desire as he stared at his beautiful wife. With quick deliberate motions he tore his own garments off until he stood completely naked, his aroused state no longer hidden from her. Catching at Blaze's hand, he drew her down upon the bed.

"My footwear!" she protested.

He slipped the shoes from her feet, and then drew each stocking with its saucy garter down her pretty legs. "I'll not wait," he said. "You've roused me beyond a mortal man's capacity to wait."

"I am ready for you, my passionate lord," she whispered back, pulling his head down so they might kiss.

With a groan of despair mixed with relief he returned her kiss, all the while plunging his sword within her burning sheath. As always, she was eager for him, and just as eager to please as to be pleasured.

Blaze felt him filling her with his great throbbing desire, and she gave in almost at once to the wonderful feeling of delight that he never failed to arouse in her. Was it wrong to so enjoy this heavenly conjunction of a man and a woman? She was yet too shy to ask her mother, and besides, she suspected that it was not something a girl might easily ask her mother. She would be glad when Bliss and Blythe joined her in nuptial pleasures so she might compare notes with them, but she hoped that they would enjoy this aspect of married life as much as she did.

"Ohhh!" she cried softly, reaching her first peak. "Ohhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhhhhh!" as wave upon wave overtook her. She thrust herself up gladly to meet his downward plunge. "Ohhhhhhhhhh, Edmund!" she sobbed as his hardness delved deeper and deeper into her responsive flesh. Was it never bad?

His excitement finally overcoming his control, the earl poured a libation of his love into his wife's golden cup before collapsing upon her heaving breasts. "Dear heaven, how I love you," he murmured hotly in her ear.

Surely a child must come from this, she thought sleepily when he had rolled off her and lay dozing by her side. Next Christmas! We will have a son by next Christmas, I am certain!

Christmas dinner was served late in the afternoon, and Lady Morgan was once again overwhelmed by the bounty of her daughter's kitchens. The variety of seafood so far from the sea itself was a luxury in which she happily indulged herself. The men feasted delightedly upon oysters, which were brought in oaken tubs filled with ice. Noisily they cracked the shells open, swallowing the cold creatures within whole, all the while making suggestive remarks to the ladies about the benefits of such fare.

Great platters of thin, sliced pink salmon dressed with watercress were brought, as well as platters of boiled carp, and prawns in white wine, lobster, pike, lampreys stewed in red wine with chervil, sole in a sauce of cream and Marsala wine. There was trout from their own streams broiled and served with carved lemons. Blaze's sisters were fascinated by the fruits, for they had never seen any before, and they commented on the oddity of such a pretty fruit tasting so sour.

A plum porridge was also amongst the first course. Made of a beef broth and thickened with bread crumbs, it was filled with the dried plums from which it took its name, as well as chunks of sugar loaf, currants, raisins, rare spices such as cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg, and sweet wines. This traditional Christmas fare was greeted with delight by all the guests.

The next course offered fresh roe deer brought in by the hunters only two days before, as well as venison, a side of beef that had been packed in a blanket of rock salt and roasted, several finely cured hams, and a half-dozen legs of baby lamb roasted with garlic and rosemary. There was swan, and a pheasant, and a peacock that had been completely reconstructed with its feathers to sit upon a platter of shining gold. There were capons in lemon-ginger sauce, pies of pigeon, lark, and rabbit, and a dozen succulent geese as well as ducks that had been turned upon their spits to a crisp golden brown and set three upon a platter with a sauce of dried plums and cherries. There were bowls of lettuce cooked in white wine, and small leeks with peas, as well as loaves of fine white bread and crocks of sweet butter for all.

The highlight of the Christmas feast was the bringing in of the boar's head. By tradition the honor of carrying the beast was given to the youngest son of the house, but as there were currently no Langford heirs, Edmund had delegated this task to his brother-in-law, Gavin Morgan. Young Gavin, being but three months short of six years of age, was yet too small to bear the heavy weight of the boar's head, which had been set upon a gold platter, an apple in its mouth, garlanded and crowned with rosemary and laurel leaves. The huge salver had instead been placed upon a specially gilded and garlanded cart, which the little lad proudly pulled into the hall as all the guests rose from their places singing the traditional carol that greeted the entrance of the boar's head:Caput apri defero,Reddens laudes domino.The boar's head in hand bring I,Bedecked with bays and rosemary;I pray you all sing merrily,Quot estis in convivio.

"This is the best Christmas that I can ever remember," Blaze said softly to her husband.

"It is the happiest Christmas I have ever had because you are now my wife," he answered her, his dark eyes brimming with his love.

The servants cleared away the plates and platters from the main part of the meal, and the last course of sweets was brought into the hall. There was sweet Malmsey wine served along with dainty wafer-thin sugar biscuits. There were candied rosebuds, violets, and celerylike angelica, as well as tarts made from dried apples, cherries, and plums and served with thick clotted cream; rich cakes that had been soaked in honey-sweetened wines; and silken custards offered with a conserve of stewed cherries. The younger members of the family particularly enjoyed the marzipan, which had been molded into various shapes—flowers, fruits, beasts, and stars—and dusted with colored sugars.

A troupe of mummers arrived. Made up of men from the earl's two nearest villages of Michaelschurch and Wyeton, they apologized profusely to their master, for it was custom that they come on Christmas Eve. To their embarrassment and shame, they had enjoyed too much their own success and the potent cider offered them the evening before in their own villages. Before they had realized it, it was midnight and time for the Mass.

Before Edmund Wyndham might reassure the mummers, however, his wife spoke up. "Good sirs, you need feel no regrets. Your coming into our hall this blessed Christmas Day both brightens and brings honor to our feast. Perform your play, I pray you, and God bless you for it!"

Immediately the blackened faces of the mummers were wreathed in smiles. "God bless yer ladyship, and bring her a fine son by Christmas next!" they cried with one voice. Their faces were blackened, for it was believed their secret identity brought both their performance and their hosts good luck. Even those who recognized the players pretended that they did not.

Then the mummers performed their traditional Christmas play, which involved Saint George, England's patron saint, and a Turkish knight and a dragon, both of whom Saint George was called upon to vanquish. The mummers did not wear elaborate costumes, and so their acting skills were called most heavily upon to make their performance real. This particular troupe of village men was quite skilled and very believable. When Saint George, having vanquished first the dragon, was apparently mortally wounded by the wicked Turk, the fourth major character in the play, the quack doctor, made his way forward to attempt a cure upon the fallen hero. With the audience shouting its encouragement now, the quack tried first this remedy, and then that, until at last to the cheers of all he found a magic elixir which instantly restored the brave saint.

The Turk gnashed his teeth and stamped his feet as the miracle became apparent. Fiercely he menaced the loudly cheering children, who squealed, half-fearful, half-delighted, but his reign of terror was quickly over, for the newly cured hero dashed forward and overcame the Turkish knight, to the rousing cheers of the audience. All agreed that it was the best mummers performance that they had ever seen. The successful troupe was loudly praised and profusely thanked before being rewarded with a bag of silver and sent off to the kitchens for cakes and ale.

The day after Christmas they celebrated the Mass of Saint Stephen, the first Christian martyr. Afterward, as it was also Boxing Day, the special alms box in the parish church was opened by Father Martin, and the monies collected within distributed to the poor of the area. Then one of the earl's finest horses was ceremoniously "bled" to ensure the good health of all the estate's horses in the coming year.

The festivities continued throughout the whole Twelve Days of Christmas at RiversEdge. New Year's Eve saw bonfires spring up on all the surrounding hills as the bells tolled in the new year of Our Lord, 1522. On New Year's Morning the family exchanged gifts with one another. Edmund delighted Blaze with an elegant cape of rich brown velvet that was lined in rabbit's fur. The clasp that held the cape together was fashioned of gold with a large golden topaz for a button. Blaze surprised her husband with a magnificent gray stallion that had been bred by one of his neighbors and that she knew he coveted for breeding purposes.

"How on earth . . . ?" he began, and she laughed.

"Doro helped me arrange it," she replied in answer to his unspoken question.

The other gifts that they had arranged for together for their combined families were equally lavish, but it was Blythe Morgan's New Year's gift to her future mother-in-law that won the day. Lady Mary Kingsley was a devout and pious lady who, since her husband's death many years before, had devoted herself to her God. With the church's permission she had founded a small religious order, the Community of Saint Frideswide, named after the eighth-century Anglo-Saxon saint who was the patron of the city of Oxford. As Mother Superior of her small order she oversaw close to four dozen nuns whose chief duty was to minister to the poor and sick. Having learned of Lady Mary's piety, Blythe had spent the few weeks since her betrothal sewing upon an exquisite altar cloth which she presented to Nicholas's mother on New Year's Day.

"Dear child!" Lady Mary's sweet and gentle face beamed with pleasure from within its wimple. "You could not have given me a more wonderful gift! Although my son has taken overlong in finding himself a wife, God has rewarded my prayers by sending you to him. Bless you, dear Blythe!"

"Did I not tell you?" whispered Lord Robert to his wife. "Who could not love Blythe?"

Rosemary Morgan nodded in agreement with her husband's words, but then said, "It is equally well that Lord FitzHugh does not have a close relation to approve or disapprove of Bliss. Love has not lessened the sting of her tongue. I hope she will not drive her betrothed away before the marriage ceremony."

Robert Morgan chuckled. His wife was perfectly right in her observations, but watching his daughter with the Earl of Marwood had convinced him that only death would drive Owen FitzHugh from the beautiful girl's side. The young man was completely besotted by her, and Bliss was more than well aware of his hapless state. Lord Morgan was well satisfied with this particular match. Bliss would do very well at court once she learned its unspoken rules. She would be totally in her element, as would be her twin sister, Blythe, living the life of a quiet country wife.

He looked to Blaze. Never had he seen her so radiantly content. It was obvious that she had fallen in love with her husband, and he was relieved to note it. He had worried himself that Edmund Wyndham's deep involvement with his first wife might make Blaze naught but a means to an heir. The match had been too good to refuse, particularly in his woeful financial state, but his conscience had pricked him sorely even as he had sent his daughter off to a husband she had never even met. Everything was working out exactly as he had hoped it would. Blaze was happy, and his next two daughters would be wed in the spring after Eastertide to men of good families. At this moment in time Robert Morgan felt expansively content, and taking his wife's hand in his, he smiled at her.

The Twelve Days of Christmas ended with Twelfth Night on the fifth day of January. A final feast was held that evening with all declaring afterward that they would not be able to eat again until Candlemas. This last night of the Christmas season seemed to bring out particularly riotous behavior amongst all. Anthony Wyndham, in his last hours as the Lord of Misrule, called for a game of Hot Cockles. Nicholas Kingsley was chosen to be It first. Carefully Blythe tied the blindfold about his eyes and when asked, Lord Kingsley swore that he could see nothing. He was spun about, and then holding out his hands, palms upward, he cried, "Hot cockles! Hot!" There was much giggling and scuffling to his ears, and then his hands were slapped hard.

"Guess! Guess!" cried the other players as they danced about him.

"Owen, 'tis you!" said Lord Kingsley.

"Damn! How could you tell?" grumbled Owen FitzHugh as he removed his friend's blindfold.

"Your signet ring, man. I could feel it on your right hand when you slapped me," was the reply.

Owen FitzHugh was blindfolded, spun about, and then called out in his turn, "Hot cockles! Hot!" Almost immediately he was slapped upon his upturned palms. "Bliss!" he chortled, for the hands had been dainty and feminine to his touch.

"Nay, my lord, 'twas not I." Bliss laughed. "Once I have slapped you, you will never doubt who it is if I slap again!"

"Then Blaze!"

"Nay, my lord," came her voice. "Not I!"

"Three wrong guesses, and you must pay a forfeit," came Tony's voice.

The hands had been definitely female. He considered who had been playing the game. All the sisters were. No help there. He did not think it would be Blythe, for that would be too easy. "Delight!" he said. It had to be Delight.

There came a chorus of "nays," and the blindfold was removed.

"Well?" he demanded. "Who was it then?"

" 'Twas us, my lord Owen," chorused Larke and Linnette, giggling mischievously at him. "We each slapped a hand."

"Forfeit! Forfeit! He must pay a forfeit!" cried the other players.

Anthony Wyndham nodded his agreement, and then his face grew sober as he appeared to consider the matter. Slowly a devilish grin replaced his serious demeanor and he said, "His forfeit is that I shall kiss Mistress Bliss!"

"Nay!" shouted the Earl of Marwood furiously, his handsome face red with its outrage. " 'Twas not fair to be tagged by two!"

"Pay the forfeit! Pay the forfeit!" the other players cried.

"Have I no say in this?" demanded Bliss, who was looking particularly beautiful this evening in an apple-green gown.

"And what say you, Mistress Bliss?" demanded the Lord of Misrule.

"I say I am willing to pay my lord's forfeit, for he tells me often enough that his kisses are the finest in the world. How am I to know whether he speaks true if I have naught with which to compare them?" Her sapphire-blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.

Before Owen FitzHugh might protest further, Anthony Wyndham caught the obviously willing Bliss Morgan to him and kissed her most thoroughly. When he released her she was blushing rosily. "Now," laughed Tony, "you have the means of comparison, mistress, but I am too much the gentleman to ask you which one of us pleases you best!"

"Why, my lord Owen, of course," replied Bliss promptly. "You did not make my toes curl as he does, sir!"

With a pleased grin, the Earl of Marwood put a proprietary arm about his betrothed wife's waist. "If you are a good fellow, Tony, I shall one day tell you the secret of making a lass's toes curl," he teased his friend smugly.

The game continued with much merriment, to be followed by dancing, and then a game of Hunt the Slipper. The feasting had begun in early afternoon, and now as the sunset hour approached, the Earl and Countess of Langford escorted their guests outdoors and into the orchards, where the fruit-tree wassailing was about to take place. A huge bowl of apple-cider wassail was brought forth, and amid the bright bonfires that had been lit by the earl's farmers, a toast was drunk to the trees, and then that which remained within the great bowl was sprinkled upon the fruit trees to ensure their fertility in the coming growing season.

Here's to thee, old apple tree!Whence thou mayst bud,Whence thou mayst blow,And whence thou mayst bear apples enow!Hats full!Caps full!And my pocket full too!Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

sang the assembled throng.

The sun had now set, and the western sky was as vibrant as only a winter sky can be. Across the horizon a narrow bank of deep-purple clouds lay, their tops lit red-orange, their bottoms lit gold. The evening star was crystal blue in the evening sky as they returned to the house to finish their celebration.

A simple supper was now served, and there was more dancing as the musicians in the minstrel's gallery plied their instruments. The younger guests played hide-and-seek and blindman's buff, but the young lovers were strangely absent. Delight, to her great pleasure, managed to get Anthony to dance with her twice, but to her equally deep disappointment he did not seem to take her seriously, and she simply didn't know what to do. How could she tell him of her womanly status without seeming bold?—and she was certain that he would not like a bold woman. Could he not see the change? Even Bliss admitted that Delight was finally gaining a bosom. Finally Old Ada came, and the little children were taken to their beds. Shortly afterward the other guests began drifting to their own bedchambers, for they would be leaving RiversEdge on the morrow for their own homes.

In their hidden alcove, Bliss Morgan pouted her well-kissed lips at her betrothed husband. "I do not see why you must return to court now, Owen," she complained at him prettily.

"Anthony will need a proper introduction, Bliss, if he is to be successful at court. To be successful at court one must find favor with the king as I have, but to find favor with the king requires gaining his attention, which only someone who has already found favor with the king can help to do." He laughed. "It is really not as complicated as it sounds."

"I find your explanation long-winded, but not incomprehensible," Bliss replied tartly. "Why must you go now? Cannot Anthony wait? He has done well enough all these years without going to court."

"Bliss, be patient. Once Lent begins all the festivities normally associated with the court come to a halt until after Easter is celebrated. Would you have Tony lose the next several months while I dance attendance upon you? We will be wed shortly after Easter in April. Is that not soon enough for us to be together, my love? Of course if you would wed with me now without all the fuss of a large celebration, we might go to court together."

Bliss stamped her little foot. "Nay, sir! You will not do me out of my wedding as Edmund did Blaze!"

"Your sister's lack of a large wedding does not seem to have spoilt her happiness in any way," noted Owen FitzHugh dryly.

"Oh, go to your precious court!" snapped Bliss. "But sow your wild oats well and quickly, my lord, for once you are wed to me I shall scratch the eyes of any female who dares to set cow eyes upon you!"

Owen FitzHugh laughed. "Why, bless me, sweetheart, you are jealous."

"Go to the devil!" she hissed at him.

"Only if you'll promise to come with me." He laughed, kissing the tip of her adorable nose.

Bliss stuck out her tongue at him, and then she laughed too. "We are surely two of a kind, my lord," she admitted with surprising candor.

He nodded. "I think you are correct, my beautiful Bliss. We will do very well together. Of that I am quite certain. Now, my quick-tempered betrothed wife, seek your bed, for I am not of a mind to play kiss and cuddle with you this night."

Bliss's blue eyes widened in genuine surprise. "What, sir, does our arguing stir your blood to passion then?"

Owen FitzHugh pulled the girl hard against him, and looked down into her face. "You have much to learn, Bliss, and I will enjoy teaching you as much as I suspect you will enjoy learning from me. Aye, sweetheart! Arguing with you does rouse my passions, and that has never happened to me before with any woman. Right now I want you very much, but I will deny myself the pleasures of passion with you until you are formally wed with me."

"A betrothal ceremony such as we have had is almost as binding, my lord," she whispered up at him, and her mouth was tempting beyond all.

"Nay, my fiery Bliss, you will not lure me with your adorable wiles. In our bedchamber, sweetheart, I will be the master!"

"Only until I learn the ways of love!" she replied fiercely at him. "Then, my lord, we will be equals, or we will not be at all!"

"Do not toy with me, Bliss." He smoldered dangerously at her as she pressed her breasts against his chest to give emphasis to her words.

With a quick movement Bliss removed herself from his embrace. "Good night, my lord," she said sweetly. "Sleep well!" Then she was gone from the alcove, and he was left standing there for a surprised minute, his manhood angry and hard.

With a smothered curse he stepped from their hidden place to go after her. He would catch her, and he would kiss her into mewling submission. What nonsense did she spout about equality in the bedchamber? A man was master in his own house. Certainly she knew that. Looking about, he discovered that Bliss was nowhere in sight. A grin suddenly creased his handsome face. The little witch! She spoke her nonsense but to arouse his passions even more. God's foot! She played with him like a fisherman with a trout. She did it, of course, to keep his interest hot, clever witch! He suspected, however, that even after their marriage Bliss would not be a dull woman to live with. Rubbing his aching member ruefully, he hurried off to find his lonely bed, for he and Tony had the beginnings of a long journey ahead of them tomorrow.

When the morning came Blaze seemed to be everywhere overseeing to her guests' various departures. Lady Mary Kingsley protested the comfort of one of the earl's coaches that was to take her back to St. Frideswide's.

" 'Tis not necessary, my child. My convent is but five miles on the other side of the river. The day is pleasant, and not too cold. I should enjoy the walk."

"Were it May, Reverend Mother, I should not disagree with you, but'tis January. Though the day be fair, I sense a storm coming. Take the coach to please me."

Lady Mary did not argue further, and was shortly gone. The coach from Riverside arrived to take the lesser Wyndhams back home. Lord Richard had not been well over the holiday, and had sadly kept mostly to his room. Now his manservant aided the crippled gentleman to his coach as Lady Dorothy fretted and fussed.

"Is it wise for Tony to leave them now?" Blaze asked her husband.

"He does his father no good in staying. Richard would have him wed. Tony pleases his father best by going off to court with Owen. If my sister's husband is meant to die now, he will die whether his son be here or not," answered Edmund fatalistically.

Delight Morgan watched sadly as Anthony Wyndham rode off with Owen FitzHugh. They would escort the lesser Wyndhams home, and then go on to court from there. The handsome Earl of Marwood kissed Bliss quite thoroughly, to her deep satisfaction, as he bid her goodbye, but there was no especial farewell for little Delight, who bravely held back her tears of disappointment. She had tried so hard to attract Anthony's attentions, but he didn't even know she was alive.

Lord Kingsley intended to return to Ashby with the Morgans for a visit. Other than his mother he was alone in the world, and his small estate was well run even without him. Blythe was radiant with her happiness, for she had truly fallen in love with the kind and homely young man who was to be her husband. He had become her whole world even as she had become his, for Nicholas Kingsley could still not believe his good fortune in having this exquisite young beauty for a betrothed wife.

Blaze was not unhappy to see the several coaches belonging to her husband making their way from the house and down the river road to the ferry crossing. She had enjoyed her family's visit, but now she was eager to be alone with Edmund once more. It seemed that she had not had him really to herself for close to a month. She looked forward to the long winter months of isolation, and snuggled against him as she happily waved her family off.

As if he sensed her mood, he said, "Are you as glad as I am to be alone once more, my sweet?"

She giggled. "Aye! I am! How awful that must sound, but as much as I love them, I am happy to see them go."

"Shall we ride today? 'Tis warm for January, and we'll not see many fine days like this until spring."

"Aye, my love, let us ride," she agreed with him.

Within the hour they had changed into the proper clothing, and rode out across the winter landscape. There was a springlike feel to the day, but no breeze. Only the sheerest of gauzelike clouds broke the bright blue of the sky, and the sun was warm upon their backs. The trees stood leafless and quiet, but looking closely, one could see carefully protected fat buds upon the branches that silently foretold of the rich spring to come. Two gray-brown rabbits nibbled on a tiny patch of greenery that had been revived by the warmth of the day, and in a field on the forest's edge a small flock of red deer browsed. Edmund and Blaze did not speak for long periods of time, the calm beauty of the morning absorbing them completely. High in a tree a squirrel chattered a warning, and gazing skyward, Blaze could see a red kite circling as it sought for its breakfast.

She had grown to love this land in the few months since she had come to RiversEdge. It was a beautiful land, and she felt a strange pride in knowing that the son she bore one day would inherit Edmund's earldom and all the traditions that went with being a Wyndham lord. That she had been chosen to be Edmund's wife still amazed her, and she smiled, thinking that a year ago she had not even known his name. She had been nothing more than the eldest daughter of an impoverished baronet with no dowry and no hope for a future. What a difference twelve months could make!

"Why do you smile?" he asked her.

"I was thinking on how fortunate I am," she replied honestly. "I was thinking of January but a year ago when my future was so uncertain. Now my future is no longer unsure, for I am your wife, and I shall mother our children, and we shall live to grow old together!"

"Ah, my sweet," he answered her, "you are yet too young to know that nothing is ever certain. Times change. People change."

"No," Blaze said in her innocence. "We will never change."

"We will grow old. Age is change," he told her.

"But our love will not change, Edmund! If our love for one another does not change, then no matter the years that pass, we shall remain as always. We shall not change."

He found her logic interesting. "May God see it so, my sweet," he said quietly, and he signaled her to turn her horse for home.

The remainder of January was cold but pleasant. In February, however, winter returned to remind them that it had not yet finished with the land. The snows came, and soon great drifts covered the estate. It grew so cold that the river froze solid, forcing old Rumford, the ferryman, and his sons to sit idle in their cottage. To Blaze's delight they rode one frigid sunny day for several miles upon the river itself. Blaze had never imagined such a thing possible, and Edmund found himself both amused and refreshed by her enthusiasm. He thought once again as he had so many times since she had come to RiversEdge that she made him feel like a lad of twenty again. When in her excitement she rode directly up the center of the river away from him, he felt great fear, for he realized he could not have borne the pain of her loss.

On the last day of February Richard Wyndham died quietly in his sleep. Lady Dorothy, though prepared for her husband's demise, nonetheless mourned him deeply, but in the letter she sent to her son at court, she cautioned him not to spoil his chances with the king by returning to be with her. She did not, she stated bluntly, need him hovering about her as if she were some fragile flower. Knowing his mother wanted her time to grieve alone so she might come to terms with her loss, Tony sent his mother's servant back home with the message that he would honor her request.

With March came rain, and wind, and mud. There was no one who did not look forward to Easter, and the end of fasting. Blaze was beginning to hate the smell of cooking fish, and only the thought of her sisters' upcoming nuptials could cheer her.

Bliss and Blythe had decided to marry on the same day, thus saving their father the expense of two separate weddings. As Father John could find nothing in canonical law to forbid the marriage sacrament being performed for two siblings at the same time, he had agreed to it. Edmund had suggested to Blaze that the twins be wed at RiversEdge, but she disagreed with him.

"You are kind, my lord, to offer," she said, "but you must understand that my father swallowed his pride for the sake of his children when he allowed you to have me without a suitable dowry; and again when he allowed you to settle dowries upon my sisters as part of your settlement upon me. The people of Ashby were robbed of our wedding. My father would not take their pleasure from them a second time. Even my dear and ambitious Bliss would agree with me on this, Edmund."

She was right, he realized, and he marveled that one so young and lacking in worldly experience could be so wise.

The rains continued into April, leaving the roads mired in thick mud, and although the countryside grew lush with new green, and flowers sprang up upon the hillsides, Blaze despaired. Her sisters' wedding day was fixed for the last day in April. Would the rains never cease? Though it was but cloudy the day that they left RiversEdge for Ashby, the Wye was swollen with an excess of both melting snows from its northern tip and the spring rains. It took both Rumford and his eldest son to keep the small ferry from being caught up in the whirling waters and swept away.

Pale of visage, Blaze clung nervously to her husband as the boat bobbed across the river. Her color did not return quickly as they rode, and he began to fear for her, but she laughed weakly.

"The bouncing but distressed my belly, sir. Sadly the jogging of my horse helps not, but I will be all right when we get to Ashby," she told him.

Ashby! Blaze looked down upon her ancestral home for the first time in seven months, and tears filled her eyes. It had never looked so beautiful to her eyes, and as much as she loved RiversEdge, there would always be a place in her heart for Ashby. To her delight the sun was beginning to peep out from behind the clouds for the first time in over a week. It was a good omen for the impending marriages that would be celebrated on the morrow. It would be so good to see her family again.

"Your color has returned," the earl noted to his wife.

"It is the excitement of being here," she answered him. "I am so glad for Bliss and Blythe. I want them to be as happy as we are, my darling! Had it not been for you, neither would have met her husband. You are the most wonderful man in the world, Edmund Wyndham!"

"Madam, you will turn my head for certain." He chuckled as they rode up before the house.

The Morgan family poured from their home to welcome Blaze and her husband. Quickly their escort was sent off to be settled, and the earl and his countess brought inside for refreshments. Though Blaze refused the food offered her, she gratefully drank a small goblet of sweet red wine.

Rosemary Morgan with a sharp maternal eye noted this, and drew her eldest daughter aside. "Are you breeding?" she demanded without any preamble. "When was your last flux? Do you have any strange cravings? Has your belly been distressed at all these last weeks?"

"At the end of February, Mama." Blaze felt like a small girl again in her mother's presence, which annoyed her somewhat.

"Then you're breeding," said Lady Rosemary matter-of-factly. "What of the rest?"

"My belly has been distressed more than is usual for me," admitted Blaze, "and I found that I could not eat the fish as Lent drew to a close. I have no craving that would be considered odd, however."

"It is too early for that, but you are breeding," repeated the older woman. She smiled at her daughter. "In these matters I am expert. One day you will be too. Have you told your husband yet?"

Blaze shook her head. "I was not certain, and had I even suggested it, Edmund would not have let me come. He would have remembered poor Lady Catherine and all her sickness. I am not like his first wife in any way, Mama. I am strong, and I will bear my lord strong sons. I would not have missed the twins' wedding for anything in the world!"

Lady Rosemary frowned. "Blaze," she said, "you are a Wyndham, and your first duty is to the Wyndhams, not to the Morgans. We are now your second loyalty, but your first must always be to the family whose name you carry, and whose sons you will bear. If you have endangered your child by your willful actions, you will never forgive yourself, but," she finished, seeing her daughter's distressed and contrite look, "I do not believe you have, for you are very much like me in form. You will carry your babes to term."

"When, Mama, do you think my child is due?"

"Depending upon when Edmund's seed took root within your womb, sometime just before the year's end, I should suspect. There were times when I knew exactly when your father and I had created a child, but not with the first. That is an instinct that comes with experience."

"A child,"Blaze whispered softly, and then quick tears filled her lovely violet-blue eyes. "Oh, Mama! I feel so blest!"

Rosemary Morgan put her arms about her eldest daughter. "You are, Blaze, for to be chosen to bear life is the greatest gift of all. Remember that in the future when you think to allow your own personal desires to overrule your common sense. Now, let us rejoin the others, lest the gentlemen miss us and think something amiss," she said with a smile. "Nothing must spoil your sisters' wedding!"