Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Bliss and Blythe Morgan were married on the last day of April in the year 1522. After weeks of rain the day dawned fair and remained that way. Father John conducted the marriage ceremony in Ashby's small church, St. Hilda's. The wedding party walked the short distance down the tree-lined lane from the house. The Ashby folk standing along the lane were treated to a fine view of the two brides, and cheered them mightily as, skirts held up to keep them from the mud, they tripped by.

The twins were gowned identically in dresses of heavy cream-colored satin brocade whose bodices were sewn with tiny pearls and gold thread, as were the sleeves and underskirts. Their lovely blond hair was unbound, attesting to their maiden state, and upon each head was a garland of white roses whose centers were a pinkish-gold. Each carried a nosegay of white violets tied with gold ribbons. There was only one difference between the two. Bliss, about her slender neck, wore a rope of perfectly matched pearls from which hung a gold pendant in the shape of a heart studded with pearls and tiny diamonds. Blythe had a strand of small pearls and garnets. Their necklets were gifts from their grooms.

The ceremony uniting the two couples was held in the open upon the church steps so that all might see, for St. Hilda's was not a large building. Then the bridal party entered into the church for a Mass, to emerge an hour later to the cheering throng. Before returning back down the lane to the house, Lord Morgan ceremoniously invited all to join with them in the wedding feast. Tables had been placed upon the lawn, with a high board for the gentry being set upon a dais beneath a red silk awning.

There was food aplenty, and as the day grew warmer, Lord Morgan's goodly supply of ale was sorely drained. Musicians with their drums, tabors, and pipes played accompaniment to the lively dances being performed upon the green grass. Two bridecakes were served, and the village maidens nibbled but a taste, secreting the rest in their pockets to dream upon this night. It was said that the man a girl dreamed of upon a bit of bridal cake would be her true love.

The evening came and torches were lit, for the music and dancing showed no signs of abating. Lord Morgan's ale supply was as yet holding out, and few were of a mind to go home, for the night was clear with a bright, almost full moon, and the air still pleasant. Finally, with the sunset at least three hours past, it was deemed time to put the brides and their grooms to bed. Bridal chambers had been arranged in the room that had been shared by the twins and their sisters, and in the house's only guest chamber. Since the rooms were next to one another there was not too great a difficulty in preparing both girls at the same time, although there was much scurrying back and forth between the two bedchambers.

Bliss flushed with excitement. She looked eagerly forward to her deflowering, although deep within her there lurked the tiniest fear. Still, her mother had given them both a dry lecture on a wife's duties several weeks before, so they knew what was expected of them. It seemed that Vanora's tales were fairly accurate, but it was not until Blaze spoke with the twins that Bliss felt entirely at ease.

"Lovemaking is wonderful!" she had enthused to them the evening before.

"Tell, tell!" demanded the twins. They were alone but for Blaze, having firmly ejected their other sisters from the discussion.

"It is really impossible to describe," Blaze said. "You must be involved to really understand."

"There must be something that you can tell us," said Bliss irritably. "The first time! What was it like the first time?"

Blaze laughed softly. "Edmund and I did not celebrate our wedding night for several weeks after our wedding," she confessed.

"Ohhh!" Blythe's eyes were round with surprise.

Bliss, as ever, was more direct. "How could you bear to wait?" she demanded. "I know nothing of what lovemaking is, and yet I am so hot to be with Owen that I cannot sleep at night, and worse, I ache with a longing that I don't even understand."

"You know Owen, and Blythe knows her Nicholas. Do you forget that I had never even laid eyes upon Edmund until the day I became his wife? How could I desire a man whose face I would not even recognize? When I voiced my fears to him, he understood, and took the time to woo me before consummating our marriage. I think I fell in love with him because of his kindness and patience.

"You ask me about the first time, Bliss. The feelings that Edmund generated in me were wonderful. I do not have the words to explain, but you will understand tomorrow night when you become one with your husbands. One thing, though. Has Mother bothered to tell you that your first encounter with passion may give you a momentary bite of pain?"

"Nay," said Bliss, speaking for them both.

"It comes with the piercing of the maidenhead by your husband. For me 'twas but a momentary prick, and afterward there is never again any pain. I thought you should know."

That thought was the only thing that disturbed Bliss's great anticipation of her wedding night. Now, sitting up in bed, gowned in an innocent-looking white silk nightrail, her lace-trimmed nightcap with its silk ribbons tied beneath her chin, she awaited Owen FitzHugh. About her the women giggled and chattered as they dashed back and forth between her and Blythe, who she assumed was in a similar condition now in the next room.

Then she heard the raucous shouts and loud laughter of the men, and Bliss's heartbeat quickened. The bedchamber door was flung open, and Owen FitzHugh, in a white silk nightshirt, was pushed into the room. With astounding agility the Earl of Marwood whirled about, and slamming the door on his escort, shot the bolt home. For a moment there was a mighty pounding upon the door that Bliss thought surely would shatter the portal, but it held.

"Owen," she heard a voice call. "We've not yet drunk the caudle cup."

"Drink it without me," Owen FitzHugh called back. "I've a more pleasant task ahead of me, and I'll waste no more time getting to it!"

There was much laughter from the other side of the door, and then a chorus of "Good night then, my lord and my lady," followed by a semiquiet as the revelers moved next door with the other bridegroom to see him safely bedded. Bliss clutched the bedcovers to her breasts in momentary panic.

Owen FitzHugh turned about and grinned at his wife. "Well now, puss, and here we are at last." He walked over to the bed, and in one swift motion pulled his nightshirt off, flinging it aside.

Bliss gasped with shock, but she was far too curious to even avert her eyes. She had never imagined a man's body could look so ... so ... so interesting. Her sapphire-blue eyes traveled across the width of his shoulders and down his chest which was furred with dark, curly hair. Dropping her glance lower, Bliss's gaze widened, and she whispered, "Ohhhhh!"

The Earl of Marwood chuckled, knowing full well the cause of her exclamation. "Come, puss," he said, drawing her up and from the bed. "You've seen my goods, now let me see yours." With gentle hands he untied her dainty nightcap and dropped it to the floor.

She was not afraid, Bliss thought, as, undoing the ribbons upon her nightrail, she shrugged it off. Nay, she was not afraid of him, for she loved him. Raising her eyes to meet his, she said, "Well, my lord, and do I meet with your approval as well as you meet with mine?"

Owen stared, both bedazzled and astounded. Bliss was not only fair of face, she had the loveliest form he had ever beheld upon any woman. Her skin was like cream. Her limbs rounded and shapely. Her breasts high and pointed. She turned for him slowly, and he groaned softly as he felt his desire stirring wildly.

"Come, sir, have you lost your tongue as well as your heart?" Bliss mocked him gently.

"God's blood, puss! Your beauty defies description, but lest you think me a poor lover, Bliss, kiss me before I expire of my longing for you!" Drawing her into his embrace, his lips met hers in a firey union.

As she tumbled headlong and heedlessly into passion, Bliss had one last thought. She hoped that Blythe was as happy at this very moment as she was. Her heart was so full that she wanted to share her joy with the whole world if she but could.

Shy Blythe. Gentle Blythe. He must not frighten her, thought Nicholas Kingsley as the revelers finally made their way from the guest bedchamber, having spent some minutes making ribald jests and drinking down a caudle cup to wish the couple good fortune and many children. Closing the door behind the guests, he locked it firmly, and joined his beautiful bride in their nuptial bed.

"You must not be afraid of me, Blythe," he began.

"I am not," she said calmly.

"Your mother has explained everything to you?"

She nodded. "And Blaze also, Nicholas."

"I will go slowly with you, my love, I promise," he said earnestly.

"If it pleases you," she answered.

"But I would please you!" he told her.

"Soon, I hope, Nicholas!" was the reply.

Startled, he could only gape at her.

Blythe took her husband's hand in hers and spoke softly. "My lord, hear me, I pray you. Blaze tells me that lovemaking is wonderful. Bliss admits to being hot to couple with Owen. Our mother has produced nine children, and despite the fact she is near forty, still smiles secret smiles at our father when she thinks no one is looking. Such things do not betoken an act to be feared, but rather to be enjoyed. I know my defloration will hurt, but afterward Blaze says it is wonderful beyond description. If we do not begin, however, I shall never know, will I? Do not think me bold, my lord, but please kiss me!"

Nicholas sighed with relief, and drawing his new wife into his arms, kissed her most thoroughly and to her complete satisfaction before going on to other and more delectable pleasures that left her equally enraptured and most delighted with him.

Blaze, however, did not stay the night at Ashby, and would not learn until afterward of her sisters' contentment with the married life. There was simply no room in the Morgans' house now for additional overnight guests, and so the Earl and Countess of Langford with their armed escort of men made their way home to RiversEdge beneath the light of the moon. The night was calm, and the moon silvered the landscape as they rode.

"You look tired, my love," the earl worried solicitously. "I must aid your father in building another wing upon Ashby. There is not enough room for us all as it is, and only two of your sisters are wed. What will happen when they are all wed, and there are grandchildren too?"

"Aye, for there will be a first grandchild before year's end, my lord," said Blaze softly.

"What?!" The earl looked astounded. "What is it you tell me?"

"That I am with child, my lord. I needed only for my mother to confirm my suspicions, for as I have never had a child before, I was not certain."

"My God, Blaze! You should not be riding!"

"Why ever not, my lord?"

"You might miscarry of my son, sweetheart! Do you not know that?"

"Edmund, I am well. I will not miscarry of our child. I am just like Mama. I will give you healthy children, I swear it! My mother rode during her confinements until she became too fat to pull herself upon her horse's back. She lost no babes, as you well know."

He shook his head. "I will not let you ride," he said in a voice that she had never heard him use to her. "Once we are home, I will give orders that you are to be forbidden the stables."

"I suppose that you think a jouncing coach is better for a woman in my condition?" she railed at him.

"Where do you plan to go that you need to ride or sit within the coach?" he asked of her.

"I had thought to visit Blythe and Nicholas, who live not far from us on the other side of the river, and what of your sister? Am I to be forbidden going to Riverside? Doro has been lonely since her husband's death. Would you imprison me because I am carrying a child?"

"Your family can come to visit you," he said stubbornly. "If you would go to see Doro, and I see no harm in it, you can take the dogcart."

"The dogcart?!" she shrieked at him, and the men-at-arms escorting them grinned at each other. "Am I a child that you would have me ride in the dogcart?"

"Do not distress yourself, my sweet," he begged her. "I am only thinking of your good, and that of the child. Oh, Blaze, my poor Catherine lost so many babes, and then I finally lost her. I have found love at a time when I had only hoped to find a second wife who might prove a good breeder. I love you! Yes, I desire an heir; but I would have you safe too!"

"Edmund, having a child is a normal and a natural thing. I am not some delicate creature to be wrapped in cotton wool. The lady Catherine? Was her health only poor when she was with child?"

"Nay. Catherine was always frail," he admitted.

"But I am not frail, my lord. I am strong, and I shall not be less strong because I am having our child."

"I want this child, Blaze!"

"I will give it to you, my lord earl, but you must not make me unhappy because I am carrying your babe."

"No riding! I mean it, Blaze. It is too dangerous, my sweet, and if you must be happy during this time, so must I. I cannot bear the thought of losing either of you."

"At least let me use a pony cart," she pleaded. "The dogcart is too slow. It would take me all day to get to Riverside."

He grinned. "We will consider each situation," he conceded, allowing her to believe he was willing to bargain with her.

Blaze smiled sweetly. "That is fair enough," she said, silently thinking if he meant to get around her he was sadly mistaken, but let him learn that later on, for she did not want to fight with him.

The Wye, which only the day before had been a roiling mass of currents, was tonight like a bolt of silvered cloth rolling between the dark spring-green hills. Rumford, the ferryman, brought them across the smooth, calm river while Blaze, leaning against her husband, thought that she had never seen a night as lovely as this one was. Reaching RiversEdge, she found that Heartha had waited up for her, and she was soon luxuriating in a warm bath that smelled of her favorite fragrance of sweet violets.

"Heartha, there is no soap," she complained.

"Those dim-witted girls," fussed Heartha. "I should not have let them go to bed until I was certain that they had performed their duties as I told them. I am getting old and careless. Do not fret, my lady, but enjoy your soak. I will fetch the soap, and be back before you even realize that I am gone."

Blaze closed her eyes and did as she was bidden. It was not too hard a task to relax within the deep warmth of the fragrant tub. She heard the door reopen, and said, "You were quick, Heartha. For an old woman you move like a young girl. Give me the soap." Eyes still closed she held out her hand, and was startled to have her upturned palm kissed. "Ohh!"

Edmund laughed, and without preamble climbed into the tub with his wife, handing her a cake of soap as he did so. "I sent Heartha to bed, my sweet. She is growing older, and I could see she was tired. Besides, I am expert in playing the tiring woman for my wife, am I not?"

"You have never washed me," she said, her tone thoughtful.

"You have never washed me," he replied.

"No, I have not. Shall I do so now, sir?"

His dark eyes narrowed. "Do you think you can please me, wench?"

"If I do not, my lord, then you may choose your own forfeit, and I shall gladly pay it," she answered him.

"And if you please me?" he teased her.

"Then you must pay the forfeit, sir." Dipping the sweet-scented little bar into the water, she said, "Turn about," and when he had, with some difficulty, slopping water onto the floor, she began to lather his back with long sweeping strokes.

Edmund closed his own eyes, and enjoyed the delicious sensation. Her fingers kneaded into the muscles of his shoulders, and he suddenly knew how the old gray striped tomcat who was king in his stables felt when someone took the time to pat him. He practically rumbled his contentment as his wife's hands expertly rubbed him.

"Why have we not done this before, madam?" he demanded of her.

Blaze chuckled. "I do not believe that we ever thought of it," she replied. She slid her hands beneath the water and boldly fondled his buttocks.

Edmund groaned, but the sound was not one of pain, rather it was a sound of pleasure. "Witch," he said softly, "you will kill me with your kindness."

"Turn yourself about, my lord, and try not to splash the water this time," was her reply.

When he had obeyed her command, she began to lather his chest with the sweet-scented soap. Her slender fingers delicately encircled the nipples on his chest, sending small ripples of delight down his spine. Again her hands disappeared beneath the water to slide over his belly, to caress his rampant manhood. Her heart-shaped face gave no hint of what she was thinking, although he thought he detected the corners of her mouth twitching with amusement.

"Sit back, my lord, and give me a foot," she finally said. Carefully, with serious demeanor, she washed the foot, soaping it thoroughly, thrusting a suggestive finger between each toe, then rinsing it off. The second foot was given its equal share of the same treatment, and when she had finished, Blaze said, "You are now bathed, sir, and it is my turn." Then with a little smile she handed him the little cake of soap.

He signaled her to turn about, and began by washing her back as she had washed his. When he reached her buttocks she wriggled most provocatively against his touch. He slid his hands around to cup her round wet breasts, sliding them beneath the soft flesh to gently crush it in his grasp. His thumbs reached up to tweak at her hardened nipples, and she wriggled once more against him, causing his manhood to ache most furiously. "Be still!" he growled in her ear, nipping it with his strong white teeth, then kissing away the quick pain.

"I cannot help it," she whispered at him.

"Shameless little witch," he replied, and he stood up, pulling her up with him. Turning her about, he yanked her water-slicked body against him and found her mouth.

Slowly he kissed her, letting his lips move lingeringly against her lips.

The warm water had weakened her after the long ride, and she half-sagged against his lean body. She could feel his manhood raging against her thigh as she parted her lips to receive his tongue. She was dizzy with his kisses which were like heady wine to her.

Picking her up he carried her to the bed, and together they fell upon it, heedless of the fact they had not dried themselves off. Gently he stroked her, his hand moving down her arm, smoothing over the curve of her hip. "I want to love you, Blaze," he murmured into her ear, "but I'll not harm the child."

She struggled to open her eyes, for her lids were heavy with her passion. "Mama . . . Mama says it is all right . . . until the end of June." Reaching up, she pulled his head down to her breast, and sighed as he clamped his mouth over the nipple, suckling upon her until he drove her into a frenzy of desire. "Now! Oh, please, now!" she sobbed.

"Nay, my sweet. We will take our time, and make these moments last, for soon we will not have them until after the child is born." He caressed her other breast with a tender hand before bending to suckle upon it.

With great effort Blaze struggled to master her own passion, and when she had succeeded, she felt the sweetness of his love pouring through her, and found greater satisfaction than she had ever found before in his arms. Together they reexplored each other's bodies, stroking slowly, touching with tenderness, and anticipating without haste the final pleasure to come. When at last he entered her eager body, moving with deliberate lack of haste, it was as if he were determined that they enjoy every second of their coming together.

Her breasts were swollen hard, the nipples tight. The rest of her body felt an almost painful fullness such as she had never felt. She felt the heat of his manhood as he pressed it deep inside her, to be followed by an almost aching suction as he drew back so he might thrust within her again. Her senses were reeling, and she felt suddenly weightless as she was whirled off into a golden haze of the most powerful, undiluted pleasure she had ever known in her young life. Desperately, as if she sought to keep herself from falling, she clung to her husband, her fingernails digging deeply into his shoulders as with a cry he released his tribute into her waiting body.

They immediately fell into a deep sleep, not awakening until the morning. During the next few weeks the intensity of their passion for each other seemed to grow as if the knowledge of their future abstinence drove them to desperation. Though Blaze found herself nauseous in the late afternoons, there was not, for the time being, any other outward sign of her condition.

News of her impending motherhood seemed to race upon the wind, however, though no formal announcement had been made. As the summer came, and the orchards and fields grew ripe with their crops, so Blaze ripened with her child. To forestall any argument on his wife's part, Edmund invited his sister to come and visit until after the birth. Lonely at Riverside, Dorothy Wyndham gladly agreed. Though he had not yet found himself a wife, Anthony remained at court. His new status as Lord Wyndham of Riverside had increased his chances of finding a wife, but if there was a woman who had taken his fancy, he had not yet communicated that fact to his mother or uncle.

On the sixteenth of September Blaze and Edmund celebrated the first anniversary of their marriage. Michaelmas came and went along with a particularly rainy autumn. On the last day of November the Countess of Langford had her seventeenth birthday. She was large with child, but she bloomed with a happiness that transmitted itself to all about her. As for Edmund, he was visibly more relaxed than his sister had seen him in years, for as each month of his wife's pregnancy passed without all the symptoms and emergencies he had come to expect with poor Catherine, he began to believe even more strongly that he would at last have an heir.

So convinced was he finally of his wife's good health that he did not argue with her when Blaze announced in early autumn that Christmas would be as usual at RiversEdge. Reconsidering somewhat later, however, he was reassured by his sister that she would see Blaze did nothing to injure either herself or the child at this late date.

"Christmas without the family would be depressing, Edmund," she told him. "Besides, Rosemary Morgan will want to be with her daughter at the birth of her first grandchild. Who better could we have to help your wife than her mother, who has birthed so many children herself?"

"Blaze has been a good chatelaine from the beginning," he replied. "She will want to supervise everything, I know it!"

"She can supervise from her chair in the Great Hall, brother. Cease your fretting! Carrying a child is a condition usual to women. It is not an illness," Dorothy finished tartly.

Blaze's eyes twinkled with laughter as her sister-in-law, with whom she was fast friends despite the disparity in their ages, repeated this conversation. "Poor Edmund," she said. "I do not know who will be more relieved to have this child, he or I."

"Pah!" came the sharp reply. "Men have no idea what it is like to bear a new life beneath your heart. Only a woman can know that, my dear. I remember the joy I felt each time I carried one of Richard's children. A man's relief stems from the eventual delivery of his heir, for that child is his immortality. Men, bless them, are simple creatures, and if you fill their wants, they are usually content. Those needs are very basic. Food, clothing, shelter, women, sons, riches, and power."

Blaze laughed aloud. "Edmund does not seek power, Doro."

"Nay, not he, but there are men who do, my dear. Beware them, for they can destroy you."

"My life is here, Doro, with Edmund. I shall never leave RiversEdge but for little visits to my sisters and my parents. My world is simple, even as I would have it."

Christmastide was upon them once again, and with the Twelve Days of feasting and merrymaking came the Morgan family and all their offspring. Blythe and her husband, Nicholas Kingsley, lived just a mile upstream and across the River Wye from RiversEdge. Lord Kingsley had caused a comfortable barge to be built so he and his wife might be rowed across the water, thus making their journey an easy one, as young Lady Kingsley was almost as great with child as her elder sister. Bliss, her belly as flat as her twin's was round, arrived from court with Owen and Anthony. Her clothing was the absolute height of fashion, and she was brimming with delicious gossip that kept all the women of the family enthralled for days.

Lord Morgan and his wife arrived, and Blaze, looking closely at her mother, gasped. "Mama! You are . . ."

"I am having a baby, Blaze, even as you and Blythe. There is nothing unusual about my having a baby." She smiled at her husband. "Your father and I have made a habit of it, and the house seemed so empty with the three of you gone, and Delight is going to be visiting with Bliss and Owen this winter. I cannot remember when last I felt so very lonely. I know it is foolish of me. I am thirty-four years of age, but I seemed to need just one more baby."

"Except in your case, Mama," laughed Bliss, "it is rarely just one, but tell us, when is this sister or brother of ours to be born?"

"Sometime in late March or early April," replied Lady Rosemary.

"You have stolen my thunder, Mama," teased Blaze. "Here I, with my child's birth impending, hoped to be the center of attention this Christmas."

Rosemary Morgan laughed. "Indeed, Blaze, and you will be, for I can see that your child will not wait much longer to put in an appearance."

"By Christmas Day," said Blaze. "I remember praying last year for just such a gift from God."

Her prayer, however, was not answered. The feast of the Christ Child's birth came and went, yet Blaze's child remained firmly rooted within its mother's womb. The Countess of Langford found herself growing cranky. Gazing at Bliss across the Great Hall, she sighed deeply. How beautiful and slim her sister was. And Delight. There was another surprise. In the eight months since the twins' wedding Delight had grown taller than her three elder siblings, and had developed a beautiful bosom that even Bliss did not tease her about, being secretly jealous. At almost fifteen years Delight Morgan was promising to be a ravishing beauty within another year or so.

Larke and Linnette were now eleven and a half and Vanora would be nine in February. The elder two were coltish, and had taken to whispering behind their hands and giggling a great deal. Vanora, however, had lost her baby look. There was the hint of a young girl about her, and her boldness had not decreased one whit. She still delighted in baiting Bliss who, despite her months at court, was as yet vulnerable to her little sister's taunts. As for the youngest Morgans, Gavin and his sister, Glenna, they seemed unchanged at this time.

On the last day of the old year Blaze's child announced its impending arrival. If she had ever been grateful for her family, she was most grateful for them now, for all the old bad memories came racing back to haunt Edmund, and he feared for his young wife. She could not concentrate upon easing his fears right now. All her energies must go to bringing her child safely into the world. She was relieved to learn from Bliss that her father, Anthony, and her two brothers-in-law had taken her husband into the Great Hall and were getting him drunk.

Bliss and Blythe were also sent to the Great Hall to oversee the children, for Blythe, near her own confinement, was deemed in too delicate a condition to help with the birth. Bliss, however, wandered back and forth between the two camps bringing news to each of the others.

"I do not know why Delight cannot take care of the younger ones," she complained to her mother.

"Bliss, be fair. Delight is desperately attempting to attract Anthony's eye. Why do you think she begged to come and visit you at court this winter? He has yet to settle upon any female, and Delight is ready for marriage."

"Her flux has begun?" asked Lady Dorothy.

"A year ago," came the reply.

"Hmmmmmmmm," considered the good lady. "Perhaps then we should help things along between those two. If no one at King Henry's court has caught his eye, and his heart, then Delight is as good a match as any, say I!"

Rosemary Morgan smiled, knowing how Lady Dorothy's words would please her fourth-born child. Delight had obstinately refused to consider any of the possible matches her parents had proposed over the past year. "We can, of course, speak on it, Doro, but first let us see to Blaze's safe delivery."

The young Countess of Langford labored lightly throughout the entire day and evening. Her labor grew harder as the night deepened, until, a few minutes before the midnight hour, she brought forth her child. In the Great Hall they heard the loud and squalling cry of the infant, and Edmund, still sober for all his in-laws' efforts, leapt to his feet. Bliss dashed from the hall, her skirts held high to prevent her from tripping. They waited, and then as the bells began to toll in the new year of Our Lord, 1523, Dorothy Wyndham appeared in the Great Hall, a swaddled bundle tucked within her arms.

Walking up to her brother, she placed the bundle into his arms, saying as she did, "My lord, your daughter. Blaze has delivered of a fine and healthy girl!"

Edmund looked down at the infant in his arms. Catherine's babes had been tiny and pale. This child was big and rosy. From her small head sprang a wealth of dark curls, and to his great surprise, he found her blue eyes were focused most distinctly upon his face. She blinked solemnly at him, and he laughed joyously. It was more than obvious that this child would live. What matter that it was a daughter, and not the desired son? They would have other babies, and there would be sons enough among them. He looked up at Doro. "Blaze?"

"Happy, but furious not to have had a boy. You must go and reassure her," came the reply, and Dorothy took her niece back from her brother's arms.

He hurried from the hall while behind him the rest of the family crowded about to get a glimpse of the newest member, passing Old Ada on his way, hearing the nursemaid saying as she went, "Bring that baby here to me at once, Lady Dorothy. Just born, and all this excitement!"

Entering his wife's bedchamber, he saw Blaze, her golden-brown hair plaited neatly into a single braid and freshly clothed in a silk nightrail, sitting up in her bed. Rosmary Morgan was just taking from her a silver goblet into which she had mixed some herbs, eggs, and wine into a strengthing posset for the new mother.

"She is gorgeous," raved Bliss of her niece. "What will you name her?"

"I do not know," said Blaze. "I had not considered that I would have a daughter. I wanted a son!"

"Her name," said Edmund, "is Nyssa. My daughter is called Nyssa."

"Nyssa? What does that mean?" demanded Blaze of her husband.

"Think on your Greek, sweetheart," he told her.

For a moment Blaze's brow furrowed in thought, and then she laughed as her mother and sister looked curiously to her. "Nyssa. It means a starting point!"

"Precisely, my sweet, and that is exactly what our daughter is, a starting point. She'll have brothers and sisters soon enough, my darling. For now, however, I am content. We have a healthy daughter, and you have come through your travail well. How can I be discontent under such circumstances?"

"But I prayed so hard that our first child be a son and heir," Blaze said.

"And I prayed that our first child be a healthy one that would live," he answered. "I prayed that you would live through the ordeal of childbirth. I could only remember poor Catherine, and all her weak or stillborn babes."

"Nyssa must have a Christian name or Father Martin will not baptize her," noted Blaze. "Let that name be Catherine, my lord, in memory of your first wife, if it would please you."

Rosemary Morgan smiled to herself, thinking that Blaze had always been a wise little creature. She caught Bliss's eye, her look plainly telling her second-born that she might learn a lesson from her elder sister. Then she signaled silently to Bliss that they should leave the new parents alone, and together mother and daughter slipped from the bedchamber.

Hearing the door close behind them, Edmund Wyndham bent and kissed his wife. " 'Tis the new year, my sweet, and a wonderful beginning it is indeed!"

"You are truly not disappointed, my lord?" Her eyes worriedly scanned his face.

"Nay, my sweet. I am every bit as pleased with Nyssa as I am with her beautiful mother. You have given me the best New Year's gift of all, Blaze, and so I shall give you your New Year's gift. My little manor of Greenhill belongs to you now. I have had papers drawn up transferring ownership into your name. It is yours, in your own right, to do with as you would. It generates a small but comfortable income, and that too is yours, with my thanks for giving me such a beautiful daughter."

She was astounded by such generosity. "Surely, Edmund," she said, "you meant that gift in thanks for a son, not a daughter."

"Nay, Blaze. I meant the gift in thanks for my firstborn child."

She could not believe it! She was a property owner in her own right! She had monies of her own to do with as she chose. Blaze looked up at her husband. "Thank you, my lord," she said simply.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it passionately. "Nay, my sweet, thank you. Thank you for Nyssa, and thank you for being my love." He arose from her bedside. "Now I think it is best that you get some rest, my love," he said, and he left her.

Blaze lay back, and found that she was suddenly filled with an overwhelming contentment. When Old Ada entered the room with the baby, she said to the nursemaid, "Bring my daughter to me, and let me see her again. There was so much fuss at her birth that I did not get a proper look at this miracle I have wrought."

"She's a bonny little thing, she is," approved Old Ada. "What will you name her?"

"Her father has named her. Her first name is Nyssa. My daughter is Lady Nyssa Catherine Wyndham." Blaze gazed down on the baby that Old Ada had just placed in her arms, and then she laughed. "There is nothing of me there at all except perhaps the eyes. She seems to be all Wyndham." The baby looked mildly back at her mother, and then she closed her eyes in sleep. Blaze felt an immediate rush of motherlove and protectively tucked the infant's swaddling blankets more closely about her. "Sleep safe, my little Nyssa," she said, and bent to place a feathery kiss upon her daughter's brow. "Who will watch over the cradle when I sleep?" she demanded of Old Ada as she gave her back the child.

"I've picked the nursemaid myself, Mistress Blaze, and I've been training her in the proper ways of caring for a baby ever since we got here. Her name is Maisie, and she is a good girl. I'll watch tonight, however. I watched over you the first night you was born, and I'll watch over little Lady Nyssa. Tomorrow is time enough for Maisie and her assistant, Polly, to take over their duties. You go to sleep now, Mistress Blaze. Sleep is what you need, and 'tis the best healer." Old Ada placed the baby carefully in its cradle, and then hobbling across the room, fluffed Blaze's pillows, and tucked the covers in about her. Returning to her place by the fire she sat down.

Blaze realized that she was indeed very tired. Her mother assured her it had not been a hard birth, but still she was tired. With a sigh of contentment she closed her eyes, and fell into an immediate sleep.