Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Lady Nyssa Wyndham flourished and grew beneath the doting eyes of her parents. She spoke early and she walked as well, tottering about the Great Hall on her fat little legs until one day she was no longer unsteady. She had as frequent companions her uncles Henry and Thomas Morgan, who had been born three months after her birth. Blaze's twin brothers had arrived on April first, which gave the family cause to joke that God had had the last laugh on Lord Morgan, presenting him with twin sons after so many twin daughters. The child destined to be Nyssa's best friend, however, was Blythe's little daughter, Mary Rose Kingsley, who had been born nine and a half weeks after Nyssa, on February twenty-sixth.

In the late summer before Nyssa's second birthday Blaze learned that she was to have another child. The knowledge came as a great relief to her, for in the time since Nyssa's birth, Blythe had produced not only Mary Rose but also her baby brother, Robert, who had been born just this June past.

"Now you shall have a brother just like Mary Rose," Blaze told her daughter.

"I want a little sister!" Nyssa said, stamping her tiny foot.

Edmund took his child upon his lap, and Nyssa snuggled against her father, throwing her mother a very proprietary look. "Papa needs a son, Nyssa. There is time enough for Mama to have a little sister for you, but first I would have a lad," the earl said.

"You have me!" Nyssa said, as if her words solved everything.

"You cannot explain to her." Blaze smiled. "She isn't even two yet."

"I would not fret but that the estate is entailed," Edmund told her. "I could be quite happy with just Nyssa but for that. When I am gone she will need a brother to defend her and see to her marriage portion."

"This is a son I carry," Blaze said firmly. "I could not tell last time. I simply assumed that I would have a boy, but this time I know! I somehow sense it."

"Pray God," he answered her, "that you are right, else Tony inherit. Still, 'twould not be such a bad thing, for he is in the direct line, and a Wyndham on both sides."

"Edmund, you are too young to even consider such a thing," Blaze chided her husband. "I am young and healthy, and this is a son I carry. Tony will never inherit RiversEdge," she finished vehemently.

He heard the venom in her voice, and was disturbed. "Why do you dislike Anthony so much, my sweet? What has he done to offend you so?"

"Why will he not marry?" she demanded. "He has been at court over two years now, and he is certainly not a bad catch as gentlemen go. He is Lord Wyndham of Riverside. He has a pleasant estate, and a good income. I cannot believe there have not been opportunities for him to wed. Yet no one suits him. Why does he dally? Does he hope to inherit your title and estates, by chance, making him an even greater catch? Bliss says there have been any number of suitable women, both maidens and widows, dangled before him. I do not trust him. He is distressing Doro beyond all. I believe him to be a calculating and totally heartless man!"

"You are prejudiced because of Delight," Edmund said quietly.

"He broke her heart!" Blaze burst out. "I will never forgive him for it! Never! She tried for months to attract his love. Bliss says in the end her conduct bordered upon the pitiful. My God, Edmund! That my poor little sister should be driven to such conduct, and all over the love of a man not worthy to wipe her shoes! Owen finally sent her home when she shamed herself publicly by cornering Anthony and declaring her love for him. It almost killed her when your nephew rejected her! She has still not recovered from her heartbreak, and she may never recover from it."

"Be fair to Anthony, Blaze," Edmund chided his wife. "He never realized that Delight's passion was a serious one. He believed it the simple adoration of a young and inexperienced girl. He did not repulse her publicly. He spoke to her with kindness in private and in the presence of both Bliss and Owen. Delight is a romantic girl who had allowed herself to imagine a love affair between herself and Tony that did not exist. That was not Tony's fault. He never encouraged her, but rather thought of her as a little sister."

"He is a callous man, my lord!" Blaze's voice was tight with her anger. "Doro and my family attempted to make a match between my sister and Anthony. No others had caught his fancy, but no! My lord Wyndham of Riverside would not have it! Delight would have made him a wonderful wife, and I hate him for breaking her heart!"

"Delight will make someone a wonderful wife," replied the earl, "but she would have been a terrible wife for Anthony."

"How can you say that?" cried Blaze.

"Delight's temperament, for all her amusing wit, is more like Blythe's. It is too soft a temperament for a man like Tony. Forced to the altar with her, he would have been bored to death within a month. He needs a wife with more spirit. One who will stand up to him even as you stand up to me, my sweet."

He was right, and in her heart of hearts she knew it, but she could not admit it to him. Perhaps one day when Delight was restored to her merry self she would, but not now. Fortunately she had not been exposed to Anthony Wyndham since Nyssa's baptism, when he and Bliss had stood as godparents to the child. My lord Wyndham of Riverside had remained at court amusing himself, and to Blaze's mind, neglecting his estates and the responsibilities entailed therein. Lady Dorothy had not seen her son in over a year, and it would have been longer had not Doro taken herself to court the summer before. She had returned saying she wasn't surprised that Tony could not find a wife. The court was full of wantons and flibbertigibbets. The queen was being disgracefully neglected by the king, whose behavior set the tone for the other members of the court. Without Queen Catherine there to set the standards of good behavior, there were none. As for the king himself, and here Dorothy Wyndham rolled her eyes heavenward, he might be a handsome young man, but she questioned his morals. There had been talk of his majesty and Mistress Blount, and his majesty and Mistress Mary Boleyn.

Because she would go no more to court, Anthony Wyndham was returning home for a visit, for he truly loved his mother. That he had chosen to come in late autumn when the hunting was good did not fail to catch Blaze's notice. The Earl of Langford chided his wife about her behavior, but Blaze, placing one hand over her belly, waved the other airily. "Fear not, my dear lord, I shall be polite to the villain."

He laughed at her. "Sometimes, my sweet, I think that I should beat you."

"But you do not, my lord," she murmured provocatively, sliding easily into his embrace and pressing against him.

He brushed her lips with his. "Perhaps I am remiss in my husbandly duties, madam," and he slipped an arm about her still-slender waist.

"You are never remiss, and I love you, my lord," Blaze said softly.

"Once again, my sweet, you have rendered me your captive," the earl replied gallantly. Then he kissed her with passion, and said as he released her, "I love you too, my beautiful and beloved wife."

Anthony Wyndham arrived home without fanfare, riding up to the front door of his uncle's great house unannounced, and with but a single servant. Dorothy Wyndham, who had been living at her childhood home since before Nyssa's birth, hurried to greet him. Her face was wreathed in smiles, and she hugged him hard and long in a shameless public show of maternal affection. "So you have come at last," she declared, her voice husky with emotion, and grinning down at her, he hugged her back.

He had not changed much, thought Blaze as she watched him entering the Great Hall with his mother. Anthony Wyndham, she decided, positively swaggered. He was as tall as Edmund was, with the same fair skin, but where Edmund's hair was a warm dark brown, Anthony's was coal black. It was obvious that the two men were closely related. Both had the same strong jawline, high cheekbones and forehead, but Edmund's eyes were brown, an inheritance from his mother. Tony's were a clear, light blue. Wyndham blue. His mouth, which she had previously thought a trifle soft, seemed to have narrowed and hardened, and there was a wary look in his eyes.

He greeted her graciously enough. "Madam, you grow more beautiful each time I see you."

"How easily the flattery trips off your tongue, my lord," she replied sweetly. "You have truly become the elegant courtier. Welcome back to RiversEdge."

He cocked a curious eyebrow, hearing the masked hostility in her voice, but then Edmund was coming into the hall, and he turned his attention to his uncle, forgetting Blaze easily. Anthony would stay at RiversEdge for the next few nights. Then he would escort his mother home, where they would remain until Anthony returned to the court after New Year's.

"Do you need a day to rest from your journey, or shall we hunt tomorrow?" asked the earl of his nephew.

"We'll hunt, of course!" Tony grinned. "I hunt at court, but 'tis a different game I seek than here at home."

"Sweet birds, I've not a doubt," chuckled the earl, "but when will you find one to suit you, and settle down to raise a family? You cannot spend your life at court amusing yourself, Tony."

A servant hovered at Lord Wyndham's elbow with a goblet of fine red wine. He quaffed half the cup thirstily, and then wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, answered, "I know, Edmund, I know! I must find a wife, and soon, but alas, when I contemplate each lass and consider spending my life with her, I find the thought distasteful. Until I meet a woman who does not affect me that way, I feel I am wisest in remaining a bachelor."

"Sometimes a man must take a chance, Tony, as I did with Blaze. I have known nothing but happiness since we wed. Would that you could have my good fortune."

"Perhaps that is what keeps me careful, Edmund. I want that kind of happiness. I cannot settle for anything less."

"Perhaps, my lord," said Blaze sharply, "you use that as an excuse to play the bull amongst the court cows. Perhaps you are really enjoying yourself too much to consider that your mother weeps for her unborn grandchildren, and your people are masterless, and Riverside lies dark and empty for want of its lord and his family!"

Lord Wyndham was surprised by her outburst, but then he laughed, replying, "Blaze Wyndham, you still have your sting as you did the day I escorted you from Ashby, a bride, home to RiversEdge. I am happy to see marriage has not changed you. You scold me harder than my own mother would. I promise you as I promise her that I shall marry as quickly as I can find the right woman."

Blaze glowered back at him. She had the distinct feeling that he was mocking her somehow, and she did not like it. Delight was better off without this big and arrogant man, and she would tell her sister that the very next time she saw her. God help the poor woman that Anthony Wyndham finally decided upon, Blaze decided.

The hunters departed early the next day, leaving shortly before the dawn, and returning just after sunset. Blaze saw that they had cold meats, bread, cheese, and wine to take with them, but they always came home hungry. Finally the night of October thirtieth the earl announced to his wife, "Tomorrow will be our last day of hunting, for Tony must go home to Riverside. He and Doro will leave after the Mass on the Feast of All Saints."

"I shall miss Doro," replied Blaze, snuggling into her husband's arms. "She is so much a part of our family now. I will be lonely without her."

"Will you not miss Tony?" he teased her, kissing her ear.

Blaze sighed. "Oh, Edmund, I know I am hard on him. I cannot seem to help it. He irritates me, and I do not know why. Aye, I do! There is an arrogance about him. It is subtle, but it is obvious to me, and 'tis like waving a red flag before a bull. That, coupled with his rejection of my sister, makes Tony anathema to me."

"He is not really arrogant, Blaze, but I know the attitude of which you speak, and I thought that only I could see it. It stems, I believe, from being the lesser Wyndham. Remember that we were raised together, yet at no time was Tony ever allowed to forget that I was one day to be the Earl of Langford while he would be simply Lord Wyndham of Riverside. Even his own mother, who raised us both, could not forget that gulf between our ranks. Remember, Doro had been born an earl's daughter. Were Tony not so truly sweet-natured, my darling, there would have been a serious breach and rivalry between us, as there was between my grandfather and his brother, who was Tony's great-grandfather."

"In all the history you have taught me, you have never told me this story," Blaze said. "I would know this family history so I may pass it on to Nyssa, and to her brother when he is born."

"My great-grandfather," Edmund began, "was Richard Wyndham, the Lord of Riverside. He had two sons, Edward and Henry, born two years apart to the day. From earliest memory the boys were adversaries and rivals, each struggling constantly to overcome the other and emerge triumphant. Of course the elder, Edward, was always given preference over the younger, Henry, as it was Edward who would one day inherit.

"Then Edward made his mark when at the age of sixteen he saved the life of King Henry, the fifth of that name, in the battle that was fought between the English and the French at Agincourt. It was immediately after the battle that the king created him Earl of Langford and awarded him the lands that are ours today. Those lands belonged to an heiress, Cecily de Bohun, to whom the king also married my grandfather. Since the bride was only three at the time, it was some years before the marriage was consummated. My father was their third son. The elder two died. One of a spotting sickness, and the other in the Holy Land fighting the infidels.

"But I digress, my sweet. When my grandfather was made Earl of Langford in his own right, his brother despaired, for how would he ever overcome his sibling now? It was my great-grandfather, Richard, who saw the solution. Riverside was not entailed upon the eldest son, and so he asked his elder son to forfeit his natural right and let him leave his estate to the younger. To this my grandfather agreed, for despite the rivalry that existed between the brothers, they loved one another, and that is how there came to be two branches of the family. The brothers remained friendly rivals their whole lives long, but there was no real animosity between them, for each had his fair portion.

"The families have always been close, and the marriage of my half-sister, Dorothy, to Anthony's father cemented the relationship for this generation. Tony and I have always spoken of wedding our children to each other one day, but now it seems as if that is not possible."

"Until Tony takes a wife it is not possible," said Blaze, and she turned onto her side, pressing herself spoon fashion against her husband, for she was more comfortable that way.

"Forget my nephew," he said, nuzzling her neck as his hand moved around her to cup her full breasts. "I'd far rather amuse myself with these sweet little apples than talk."

"Must you hunt tomorrow?" she asked him. "It was cold today, and I think it will rain soon. I do not want you catching a chill, for then we shall all catch it," she murmured sleepily, enjoying his fondling.

"Perhaps I shall tell Tony I prefer to stay at home tomorrow," Edmund said, feeling her relaxing into sleep against him.

"Hmmmmmmm," was her reply, and he smiled in the darkness.

In the morning, however, a pale lemon-colored sun shone weakly from the sky, and when the earl allowed that perhaps they should stay at home, Anthony mocked his uncle gently.

"Come, Edmund, are you growing old that you would sit by the fire with your wife rather than stalk the red deer within your forest?"

Edmund laughed, and said ruefully to his wife, "I cannot let this stripling nephew of mine put a gray beard on me yet, Blaze. I see no sign of rain. We will be back before sunset, my sweet," and bending to kiss her, he left the hall with Tony.

The day continued to glow wanly, and Blaze began to think that her husband had been right. It was All Hallows' Eve, and in a corner of the Great Hall Maisie sat telling Nyssa the very same ghost stories that Old Ada used to tell Blaze and her sisters. Nyssa's eyes were round with interest. Lady Dorothy sat working upon the tapestry of Jesus blessing the Wedding Feast at Cana that she had been working on since her son went to court. She intended it as a wedding gift for her son and the bride he finally chose, but the beautiful tapestry was nearly done.

When Blaze heard the sound of the autumn rain against the windows of the Great Hall she felt no satisfaction. If he caught an ague he would get no sympathy from her. Putting her feet up on a stool, she dozed lightly by the warm fire, only awakening when the sounds of men and horses and dogs came from outside the house. Slowly she opened her eyes and stretched.

Anthony Wyndham came into the hall. He was pale and haggard-looking. "Mother . . ." he half-sobbed, "Mother! Edmund is dead!"

Dorothy Wyndham leapt up with an agility surprising for a lady of her age. Her hands were pressed to her heart as if she were attempting to keep it from leaping out of her chest. "God have mercy, my son! Tell me that I did not hear you aright!"

Blaze struggled to her feet, and half-staggered across the hall. "Where is Edmund?" she demanded of Anthony. "Where is my husband?"

Lord Wyndham came slowly forward, and taking her hands in his said, "There is no gentle way to say this, Blaze. Edmund is dead. We were on our way home, for it had begun to rain, and Edmund said he dared not catch a chill lest you scold him. It had been a poor day's hunting, and he was teasing me that we would have been better off by your fire than being frozen for naught." Lord Wyndham's voice faltered, and he half-sobbed on, "Without any warning a stag raced out of the forest directly in front of Edmund's horse, and the dogs went wild and broke. The horse reared up suddenly, and Edmund was thrown from the beast. His neck was broken, and he died instantly. Ohh, Blaze! I am so sorry!"

For a long minute the impact of his words did not hit her, but when they did her pain was terrible. Her legs felt like jelly, and yet she somehow stood firm. For a time she did not think that she could breathe, but then she saw Anthony standing before her, the tears running down his face. A fierce black anger rose up in Blaze, and she slapped his face with all the strength that was in her.

"You!" she hissed furiously at him. "You are responsible for this, Anthony Wyndham! You have killed my husband as surely as if you stabbed him in the heart! You have killed my Edmund!" she shrieked, and then she began to beat him with clenched fists about the chest and head.

He was helpless against her terrible accusation and, unable to move, he stood there taking the punishment until finally Lady Dorothy, recovering from her initial shock, ran forward to pull Blaze away from her son. Angrily Blaze turned her fury upon her sister-in-law, lashing out at her with both her fists and her tongue, while Maisie clasped the frightened Nyssa to her ample bosom and the others in the Great Hall stood by watching in horror.

"Do not protect him, Doro! Do not protect him! He has killed my husband! He has killed Edmund!"

"Nay, Blaze," cried Lady Dorothy, dodging the blows and attempting to gather the grief-stricken younger woman into her embrace. "It was a terrible accident. An accident! No one is to blame." The tears were pouring down her cheeks. She had taken her infant brother from the midwife when he had been born, and his natural mother, her stepmother, had died. Though she was but twelve at the time, she had raised him as if he had been her very own son, and now he was dead. Gone from them, never to return. Dorothy Wyndham never even felt the tears that ran down her cheeks.

As the first wave of her grief began to recede, Blaze ceased the physical assault of Lady Dorothy. Her tongue, however, continued to score Anthony. "Your son is indeed to blame for my husband's death," Blaze declared. "Edmund would never have gone hunting today but that Tony teased him into it by impugning his manhood!" She whirled to face her enemy. "I could kill you for this!" she shrieked. "I could kill you, Anthony Wyndham!" Then suddenly she went white, and gasping as she doubled over, she clasped at her belly. "The baby! I am losing my baby! Ohhh, God curse you, Tony! God curse you!" she wept as she collapsed upon the floor.

Finally galvanized into action, the servants rushed to aid their countess. Gently they picked the fallen woman up, tenderly carrying her to her chamber to place her upon her bed. Heartha and Lady Dorothy hurried to help Blaze, pulling her bodice off, pulling her skirts off to see the stains of blood and birthing fluid upon the white fabric of her petticoats. Both women were weeping profusely at this terrible tragedy made doubly worse by the fact that the child Blaze miscarried of was indeed the son she had predicted she would bear. A tiny, perfectly formed little boy too small and too fragile to survive outside of his mother's womb after but six months in it.

Anthony, learning of it, groaned and tore at his garments in his grief. Edmund's son! Edmund's long-awaited heir was as dead as his father. "Blaze?" he asked his mother. "How is Blaze?"

"She will survive to bear other children for another husband," said Lady Dorothy, and then it was that she saw with shock the naked truth upon his face. "God have mercy," she whispered. "That is why you have not been able to decide upon a wife, my son. You love her! You are in love with your uncle's wife!"

"My uncle's widow," he said low.

"She despises you, my son."

"In time I will teach her to love me, Mother, for I have loved her since the day I first laid eyes upon her," replied Anthony Wyndham.

"God help you, Tony," said his mother. "It will take a miracle now to bring about what you so desperately desire."

"My lord earl. My lord earl," came the voice of the household's majordomo more insistently. "What orders would you give for Lord Edmund's body?"

For a moment Anthony Wyndham looked uncomprehendingly into the face of the upper servant, and then it came to him that he was now the Earl of Langford. Shocked, he found he could not speak.

"Take my brother's body, and lay it out in the family chapel," said Lady Dorothy. "Then send Father Martin to me immediately."

"Very good, m'lady," replied the majordomo, backing off.

"Anthony! Get a hold of yourself this minute!" she said sharply to her son. "There is no help for it! You are indeed the fourth Earl of Langford, and as such it is to you that your people look. Edmund's death and the miscarriage of his son will bring great sadness to Langford and its people. You are now their leader, and as such you may grieve, but you may not show that grief, lest you distress the people even further. It is to you that Langford people will now look for guidance. A ruler must be strong, for the people are weak!"

There was a long silence, and then Anthony Wyndham raised his head. His eyes were sad, but their look was resolute. His voice when he spoke was now firm. "I'll send a messenger to Ashby. The Morgans will want to be with Blaze now in her mourning."

Lady Dorothy nodded approvingly.

In the next few days there was much coming and going at RiversEdge. Lord and Lady Morgan arrived to comfort their daughter, who lay in her bed weeping for the loss of her husband, and her son, but recovering from her miscarriage. Lady Rosemary had overruled her daughter Delight, who, seeing her eldest sister's tragedy as another opportunity to chase after Anthony Wyndham, wanted to come.

"None of you are to come," said Lady Rosemary firmly. "We must leave immediately. Delight, you will be in charge of your sisters and brothers. If Lord Anthony did not want you before he became Earl of Langford, he will not want you now," she said bluntly. "He can aspire to a much higher name, and undoubtedly he will. Now that he is the Earl of Langford, he will certainly marry when his mourning is over. I hope that, knowing this, you will decide to stop your foolishness, and accept one of the good offers we have had for you. You are, after all, sixteen and a half. Soon you will be considered too long in the tooth to be a wife. Is that what you wish? Surely you do not intend to end your days a maiden?"

Delight, Lady Rosemary found, was far easier to control than her eldest child. Blaze lay weakly within her bed, her eyes burning dark with her anger. "He killed Edmund," she told her parents. "If I could kill him, I would!"

"Stop this, Blaze!" said Lady Rosemary in her firmest, most maternal tone of disapproval.

"What do you know, Mama? You have lived your whole life happily at Ashby having Papa's children. You have never lost a child or a husband!" Blaze snarled at her mother. "Edmund would be alive today, and our son also, had not Tony goaded my husband into hunting that day. He planned to kill Edmund! I know it! He wanted Edmund's place all along, though he masked it well, the bastard!" Her voice bordered on the hysterical.

"Nay, daughter, do not allow your sorrow to blind you to the truth," said Lord Morgan in a quiet, firm tone. "Edmund wanted to hunt that day. Admit it. He grasped at the first excuse to do so. Do you really believe that Anthony was responsible for making that deer bolt from the forest directly in front of your husband's horse? There were a dozen witnesses to the incident, and Edmund's was not the only horse to shy. Unfortunately he was taken unawares, else he would have controlled his animal, for he was a fine horseman. It was an accident, Blaze. A terrible accident. It is unfair of you to blame Anthony for it. Unfair, and unkind. Edmund was Anthony's best friend. They were more brothers than uncle and nephew. He grieves too for Edmund, and as deeply as do you."

Blaze gazed mutely at her father, but Robert Morgan saw the pain she suffered, and took her into his embrace, where she wept until her eyes were burned closed with the salt of her tears. "I hate him!" she sobbed into her father's shoulder.

"Hate him if you will, Blaze, but do not blame him for something that was not his fault," replied Lord Morgan.

After two days in the family's private chapel the body of the third Earl of Langford was moved to the Church of St. Michael, where it stayed on view another day so that his people might come and pay their respects. Had the weather not been cool they would not have had the opportunity. Atop the coffin rested Edmund Wyndham's effigy, and within the closed casket, out of sight of the mourners, the earl held in tender and eternal embrace the swaddled body of his infant son, having gained in death that which he had so dearly sought in life, but had been unable to attain.

Blaze had insisted upon being present at her husband's funeral and had been carried into the church by her father. The people wept all the harder seeing their beautiful young countess, for Blaze appeared to them to be brave and noble in her terrible grief. What sons would have come from such a woman, they thought silently, and mourned all the more their double loss.

It began to snow as they exited the church, having interred Edmund Wyndham's broken body in its designated place within the family crypt. To her shock Blaze found herself alone with Anthony inside a coach.

"I must talk with you," he said quietly, and when she did not reply he continued. "I plan to settle Riverside and its lands upon Nyssa as her marriage portion. I know that Edmund had not yet even considered her dowry, and now it is my responsibility. As a reigning earl's daughter she would have been greatly sought-after. Her father's death would lessen her value as a bride, but that I have given her Riverside. She is now a great heiress."

"Are my daughter and I to live at Riverside?" she asked him coldly.

"Nay, Blaze, RiversEdge is your home," he replied. "You are now the dowager Countess of Langford, and nothing has changed.

"My husband and son lie in the family crypt at Michaelschurch," she said bitterly. "That has changed my life, and that of my daughter, my lord earl. I will never live at RiversEdge as long as you are there, Tony! I will take my daughter and go to Greenhill which belongs to me. Edmund gave it to me when Nyssa was born, and 'tis where we shall live!" Her pale face was resolute in its determination.

"Greenhill? You cannot live at Greenhill!" he said. "The manor house there is very old, and has not been lived in for thirty years. It is probably uninhabitable at this point."

"Then why did Edmund give it to me?" she demanded of him.

"He was giving you the manor with its lands, not a house to live in," explained Tony.

"But I will live in it," she said stubbornly.

"It is not proper for a young woman without a husband to live alone in an isolated place," he said through gritted teeth. "I will not allow you to live at Greenhill."

Her violet-blue eyes darkened in their anger and narrowed dangerously. "You will not allow me? Who are you to say what I may or may not do? How dare you even presume to do so, sir!"

"Who am I?"he repeated, and his voice was deep with his own rising anger. "I am the Earl of Langford, madam, and you as its dowager countess are my responsibility, as is your daughter, who I would remind you is Wyndham-born. It is I who will say where you may live, and if the Lady Nyssa Wyndham may go with you. As Earl of Langford it is my decision you remain at RiversEdge, madam, and because you are young and attractive, and because I would have a care for your reputation, my mother will remain as your chaperon. Is that quite understood, Blaze?"

"Am I to be your prisoner then?" she queried him sarcastically.

"You are the honored widow of my predecessor, madam. You and your daughter belong at RiversEdge. What would people say if you no sooner buried Edmund than you moved bag and baggage with your child to another house?"

"And if you wed, sir, what will your bride think of our presence?"

"If I wed we will then discuss possible changes," he answered.

She was the most irritating woman he had ever met, he thought. Yet he wanted to take her into his arms and comfort her, for he could see her pain over Edmund's loss.

"Let me go home to Ashby for a time," she said low. "I cannot bear the thought of Christmastide here at RiversEdge right now."

He reached out to take her little hand in his, but she drew herself back into a corner of the seat like some wounded animal.

"Please," she said, and although he could not see the tears in her eyes he knew that they were there, and he was torn.

"Would you take Nyssa with you?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied. "You would not ask me to leave my child, would you? I will be with my parents. Surely you trust them to do the right thing even if you do not trust me."

"You may go," he said helplessly, for to have refused her would have been churlish, and he was desperate to gain ground with her. "I will expect you to return by Candlemas."

"Oh, please," she begged him, "let us stay until after Eastertide, my lord! I need to be with my family, and Nyssa will have her uncles for playmates."

He nodded. Distance would give her time to think, and he believed that when she did, she would realize that he had not been at fault in the matter of Edmund's death. Then, come the spring, upon her return, he would gently court her.

Bidding Lady Dorothy farewell, Blaze returned to Ashby with her parents. She would have her own apartments in the beautiful new brick wing of the house that Edmund had gifted his in-laws with just last year. It was well that he had done so, for Blaze traveled with her tiring woman, Heartha, her child, and her child's two nursemaids. She had her own groom, who looked after her white mare, and the young gray gelding Edmund had given her, and several liver-and-white spaniels who adored her, always following in her wake. Without this new wing Lady Rosemary would have been greatly put upon to house her eldest daughter and her small entourage.

After a few weeks back at Ashby Blaze realized that what her younger sister had said those three years back was true. Time had passed, and she had, of course, changed. Nothing was the same now as it had once been. She did not feel as if she belonged at Ashby, and she certainly did not belong at RiversEdge any longer. Having run her own large house, she was uncomfortable with her mother, and several times she caught herself opening her mouth to criticize something that her mother did that was not done that way at RiversEdge. She walked and she rode until the weather became simply too foul for being outdoors, which was worse, for she found that the sibling rivalry existing between her younger sisters was now beneath her.

Delight irritated her most, for all she seemed to want to talk about was the very thing that Blaze did not want to talk about. Anthony Wyndham. Larke and Linnette were sweet creatures, but their simple conversation, most of which was in unison drove her to distraction. They were so alike, she wondered if her parents would ever find husbands for them. She would have liked to spend more time with ten-and-a-half-year-old Vanora, but Vana was like a will-o'-the-wisp, never in one place for long, and leading a secret life that had caused Lady Rosemary to throw up her hands in desperation. Glenna, she hardly knew now, and Glenna was shy of her eldest sister, who in coping with her grief was not of a mind to win over the youngest of the Morgan sisters.

Blaze found herself looking forward to Christmas now, when Blythe and Bliss would come with their husbands, but a messenger arrived saying that Mary Rose and baby Rob were ill. Although in no danger, Blythe had chosen not to travel with them to Ashby. Bliss and Owen did arrive, however, bringing with them a heavy snowstorm that left the countryside blanketed in a mantle of white.

Bliss had the perfect solution to her sister's problems, and she shared the idea first with her mother.

"She will come back to court with us," Bliss said.

"Your sister is in mourning," chided her mother.

"She can mourn him as well at court as in the country, Mama. Though she says nothing, she still blames Anthony for Edmund's death which makes her residence at RiversEdge uncomfortable at best. She is bored to death here at Ashby. Can you not see it? She needs to be someplace new where she will be distracted from her grief, and where she may even find herself a new husband. Think, Mama! Blaze is the widowed Countess of Langford with a widow's generous portion and lands of her own. She is quite a catch, and there are plenty of suitable gentlemen at court who should be happy to have her for a wife. What can you and Papa do for her, really? As for Anthony Wyndham, he will now be far too busy finding a wife of his own, lest the Wyndhams die out. He cannot help Blaze," finished the practical Bliss.

Robert Morgan agreed that there was merit in Bliss's suggestion, and Blaze, when approached with the idea, considered a moment and then agreed, to everyone but Bliss's surprise.

"You will have to leave Nyssa, however," said Bliss. "Lodging at court is a crowded thing at best. If Owen and I did not have a small extra bedchamber at Greenwich we could not offer to house you. Heartha will have to sleep upon the trundle in your room, but there is no room for Nyssa and her entourage. I hope you understand, sister."

"Nyssa will be just fine with us," said Lady Rosemary. "Henry and Tom adore her. They have grown so used to her now that they would be lost without their little niece."

"She bullies them disgracefully," said Blaze.

"My goddaughter is a child after my own heart," remarked Bliss laughingly. "I wish we could take her with us, but the court is really no place for a child. You will come even so, won't you, Blaze?"

She considered again her quick decision. She was bored at Ashby although she tried hard not to show it. Her only other choice of a place to live was RiversEdge, and she would never live there again as long as Anthony Wyndham was Earl of Langford. Then a small smile touched the corners of her mouth. Tony had thought himself quite the fine lordling telling her that he was now in charge of her life. How magnanimous he had been when he had permitted her to return to her childhood home with her daughter. And ordering her back by the week after Easter! She almost laughed aloud now. She knew he would not bother with them thinking them safe at Ashby. Aye, she acknowledged to herself, Nyssa was better off here with her parents and her sibling uncles to bully and play with; but the dowager Countess of Langford was going to court, and his mighty lordship would not know it until after Easter when they did not return to RiversEdge! It would be impossible for him to interfere with her then.

"Aye, Bliss, I'll come with you, and I thank both you and Owen for the invitation as well as the lodging."

They left Ashby the second day of January, for the Earl of Marwood had promised his sovereign that they would be back in time for them to take their usual places in the king's Twelfth Night masque. Bliss, who was considered one of the most beautiful women at court, had an important role to play. She was to be Innocence, who would be overcome by the king's Ardent Desire.

Blaze had never seen a masque before, but Bliss assured her that she would love the pageantry that surrounded the king. "He is quite in his prime, being only thirty-three his last birthday. He is very, very tall, and he has the most wonderful red-blond hair, though it be thinning. His eyes! God's mercy, such eyes! They are as blue as a lake, and so deep that you could drown in them! He is learned and witty, and altogether most amiable. He is the greatest king in the world, Blaze. There is none to match our good King Harry!"

"Indeed," agreed Owen FitzHugh, "Bliss speaks the truth. You will be amazed at the wonders and delights that you find at court. I am proud to be considered among the king's friends. He is a great and noble lord. Only in his wife has he been unfortunate."

"Why is that?" Blaze asked.

"He should have never wed Catherine of Aragon, Blaze, but this, of course, you must not ever voice aloud. There is talk that he has been denied living sons because he committed a sin by taking his brother's widow to wive. Although it is not known widely yet, the king is seeking to gain a papal dissolution from his marriage to the queen so he may remarry and sire legitimate sons. Elizabeth Blount, who is now Lady Tailboys, has given the king a fine lad, young Henry Fitzroy, who is to be six this year. Mary Boleyn's baby son, Henry Carey, is also said to be the king's get. So you see, the king can sire strong sons, but not on the Spanish princess. Besides, she is now past her childbearing years, sad lady. The king deserves better, and with God's blessing he shall have it," finished Owen FitzHugh.

The Earl of Marwood's traveling coach was extremely comfortable. Well-sprung, it had real glass windows that could be raised and lowered, which was considered quite a luxury. They traveled to Greenwich, where the king was now in residence, snug and warm beneath lush fur rugs, hot bricks wrapped in flannel at their feet. The weather had turned milder on New Year's Day, and though muddy, the roads were passable.

Blaze had bid her family farewell, hugging her little daughter to her heart and promising to bring the child a present when she came again. Nyssa, who had received a surfeit of gifts just several days before upon her second birthday, was not overly impressed. Bidding her mother goodbye, she immediately turned back to her playmates. Blaze laughed weakly. "I am glad she is so self-reliant at such an early age."

The coach rumbled away from Ashby, and looking back at her family standing before the house, Blaze had a feeling of déjà-vu. Once before she had left Ashby, and she had found great love. What would she find this time? she wondered.