Winter's Flame (Seasons of Fortitude Series Book 4)

by Elizabeth Rose

  Turning the gears of the clock, Martin focused on the piece that was giving him trouble. The teeth on the wheel were not ground properly. Every day just before midnight, the clock would stop working. Plus, there was a metal plate inside that didn’t fit right.

  “Damn,” he spat, throwing down his tiny pair of tongs. Nothing seemed to work in his favor. Not today, and not for the past several days either. The last bit of luck he had was when Winter agreed to marry him.

  Why did Lady Victoria have to return and ruin his life?

  “There you are, Martin,” said his father, entering the secret room. “I wondered what happened to you.”

  “Hello, Father,” he said, keeping his focus on the clock. “Was there something you wanted?”

  “Aye, I wanted to talk to you about Lady Victoria and the boy.”

  “Go ahead,” he said, listening.

  “I don’t think the lad looks anything like you.”

  “He doesn’t.” Martin got up and stretched. “Even though she says he is my child, I am skeptical.”

  “If he is yours, are you going to marry her?” His father dragged his finger through the dust on the table.

  Before he had a chance to answer, the door to his chamber banged open, and Winter ran into the room. “Martin? Martin, where are you?”

  “Winter? What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “What is that? A secret room?” She walked over, holding his sword in her left hand.

  “Aye,” he answered. “It is where I go to think.”

  “What’s in here?” She stretched her neck to see into the room and stepped around his father to enter.

  “This is where Martin makes clocks,” said Lambert.

  “Clocks?” she asked, her eyes falling on his latest work, the large clock as big as a small table. “How fascinating.” The sense of urgency she’d had when she entered the room was gone as her curiosity took over. Now, all she cared about were clocks.

  “I see you’ve finished my sword. May I?” Martin held out his hands. Winter used two hands to give him the sword in a horizontal position.

  “My, that’s a fine weapon,” surmised Lambert.

  “Aye, I agree.” Martin inspected the sword. “The hilt is strong and yet comfortable in my grip.”

  “The crossguard is made of metal, but the hilt is wood,” Winter told them. “I’ve wrapped it in leather to make it feel softer against your hand.”

  “And she’s got her mark embedded into the sword as well,” said Lambert, running the tip of his finger over the outline of the small heart.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I put it there,” Winter told Martin.

  Martin smiled, knowing whatever happened between them, he’d always have the memory of giving her the key to his heart. “I love it,” he said, feeling too choked up to say more.

  “I like it as well,” she said with a smile.

  “Let’s see how it handles. Everyone, please step out into the bedchamber where we’ll have more space,” Martin said, leading the way.

  They all went into the main chamber and Martin closed the door to his secret room. With a few swipes through the air, he tested the weight and balance of the sword.

  “It handles like a dream,” said Martin. “I can’t wait to see how it cuts.” Overzealous and not able to wait until he made it to the practice yard, Martin spun on his heel and sliced through the leg of a chair. The chair’s leg broke in half and the chair fell to the side. “Nice,” he said with a nod of the head, looking down to inspect the edge of the blade which was not damaged in the least. “Winter, you did a beautiful job. This is perfect in every way. I can see why you were in such a hurry to bring it to me that you burst into my room in excitement.”

  “Oh, that. I’m sorry I didn’t knock, but I had to get here quickly to tell you –”

  “Martin, darling? Oh, there you are.” Victoria entered the room before Winter could finish her sentence.

  “Does no one knock anymore?” Martin mumbled in aggravation.

  “Lady Victoria, how are you?” asked Martin’s father.

  Victoria recoiled, her fear or at least her dislike of Lambert showing. She looked down her nose at Winter. “What is she doing here?”

  “Winter has finished my sword. Look at the fine craftsmanship involved.” Martin proudly showed her the sword. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “That’s nice,” said Victoria, barely looking at the blade and not sounding as if she cared at all. “Martin, we need to start planning our wedding.”

  Winter gasped. Victoria’s smug smile told Martin she was putting on a show for Winter. “We’ve also got to plan our family time – with our son, little Martin.”

  Winter had as much of Victoria as she was going to take. She’d planned on telling Martin what she learned in private, but could no longer wait. She would bring the woman down, exposing her secrets. In the process, Winter would show her that she couldn’t play her games and get away with them anymore.

  “Don’t you mean with Charles?” asked Winter. “And shouldn’t you be planning the outing with the boy’s true father instead of Martin?”

  “I – I don’t know what you mean,” scoffed Victoria, becoming fidgety. “Martin, send this girl from the chamber at once because she’s just as addled as your father.”

  “I’m not addled,” bellowed Lambert, glaring at her.

  “Calm down, everyone.” Martin stepped in to control the situation. “Lady Winter, please tell me what you mean by that?”

  “It’s true,” said Winter. “I overheard the handmaid talking with the cordwainer in town.”

  “She lies,” interrupted Victoria.

  Martin held up a halting hand. “Lady Victoria, you’ll wait your turn to speak. Right now, I want to hear what Lady Winter has to say.”

  “Thank you,” said Winter with a nod of her head. Victoria tried to speak again anyway.

  “She’s just a -”

  “My son said to shut your mouth,” yelled Lambert. “If he can’t shut you up then mayhap I can.” He took a step toward Victoria, but Martin held out a hand to stop him.

  “There is no need for all this commotion,” Martin told them. “Now, please, go on, Lady Winter.”

  Winter nodded and continued with her story, looking only at Martin and not at Victoria as she spoke. “As I was saying, I was in town when Nairnie spotted the handmaid and the boy going into the cordwainer’s shop unescorted.”

  “The handmaid was buying shoes for my son,” interjected Victoria. “Martin knows everything.”

  “You do?” asked Winter, looking at Martin in surprise.

  “She told me after they left and I sent Rock to escort them back to the castle,” explained Martin.

  Winter nodded again. “Aye, I bumped into Rock there. It was right after I heard the cordwainer say that he is the father of Victoria’s son, and the boy’s name is Charles.”

  “God’s eyes, is this true, Victoria?” shouted Martin.

  “Nay, she’s making it up,” snapped Victoria. “She is only saying that because she doesn’t want us to marry.”

  “Can Rock vouch for your story?” Martin asked Winter.

  “Well . . . nay. I was listening at the door and he walked up afterward,” Winter told them.

  “You were spying!” gasped Victoria.

  “Mayhap you misheard them,” said Martin.

  “Yes, she did,” agreed Victoria. “I should know who the father of my son is, let alone know the boy’s name.”

  “I didn’t make a mistake,” Winter protested. “I saw the cordwainer kiss the handmaid, and he told her he wished they could be together. He also said that he wished Charles was Glynnis’ son instead of Victoria’s.”

  “This is preposterous,” sniffed Victoria.

  “This is shocking,” added Martin.

  “This is highly amusing, and I can’t wait to hear more,” said Lambert, laughing like a madman.

  The door opened and Rock stuck his hea
d inside next. “My lord?”

  “Bid the devil, does no one knock and wait to be acknowledged before they come bursting into my private chamber?” grumbled Martin.

  “I did knock,” Rock told him. “There was so much shouting in here that nobody heard me.”

  “I’m busy, Squire. What do you want?”

  “My lord, the handmaid is here with your son. She was told to bring him directly to Lady Victoria when she returned from town.”

  “Let them in,” Martin said with a nod. When the handmaid came into the room holding the boy, Martin strolled over to her. “I’ll take my son.” He reached out and took the boy into his arms. Little Martin kicked and screamed and wanted nothing to do with him. “What’s the matter . . . Charles?” Martin asked, causing the boy to stop crying. The handmaid gasped and Lady Victoria rolled her eyes. “Is your name Charles?” Martin asked the boy.

  The little boy wiped away a tear and nodded.

  “Where are the shoes?” Martin asked Glynnis, putting down the boy.

  “My lord, the cordwainer says he’ll need time to construct them.”

  “And when did he say that?” asked Martin. “Was it before or after he kissed you?”

  The handmaiden covered her mouth with her hand and her eyes opened wide in horror.

  “Glynnis, is this true?” asked Victoria. “You shouldn’t be kissing anyone. You were on a mission with our son involved.” She splayed out her hand to include Martin.

  “Forget it, Victoria, it’s over,” said Martin. “Lady Winter’s story was just verified by the reactions of the handmaid and the boy.”

  “You idiot,” Victoria snapped at her handmaid. “Why did you have to be so careless?”

  “I’m sorry, my lady,” said the handmaid, looking to the ground.

  “Well, I suppose this means you no longer want to marry me,” Victoria told Martin.

  “I never wanted to marry you in the first place,” said Martin. “Now that I know you were lying about everything, I think even less of you than I did before – if that is at all possible.”

  “I had to lie,” she said, faking the tears now. “The cordwainer abducted me and I couldn’t be pregnant with a commoner’s baby.”

  “Nay! Adam is too kind to ever abduct anyone,” the handmaid spoke up. “We’re in love, and I’m only sorry that little Charles had to be put through all this.”

  The boy started crying and ran and hid his head in Glynnis’ skirts. “Mama,” he cried, holding out his hands until she picked him up.

  “Aren’t you going to comfort your son?” Martin asked Victoria.

  “Hrmph,” she said, glaring at the boy. “I don’t want him. I never did. I’d be better off without the whelp. Then, at least, some nobleman might marry me.”

  “The baron found out you were pregnant and wouldn’t marry you, didn’t he?” asked Martin.

  Victoria let out a sigh and slowly nodded. “He didn’t want me. I had a hard enough time living in one place and then the next, pretending I had a noble husband who died. I cannot go on living that way again. I should have just married you in the first place instead of accepting his marriage proposal.”

  “Being greedy doesn’t pay off, does it?” asked Martin.

  “Lady Victoria, you said if Adam helped you, you’d pay him enough that he’d be able to buy his own shop and not rent it,” boldly stated the handmaid.

  “He’s getting nothing and you can tell him that,” snapped Victoria. “I had to steal what I could from the baron to have this gown and jewels. I don’t have anything more. If Adam had kept his lips off of you and his mouth shut, none of this would have happened.”

  “If you would have acted like a lady and not a strumpet, you wouldn’t be in this position,” said Lambert. “You are a fool.”

  “Don’t talk to me about being a fool.” Victoria glared at Martin’s father. “It was you who was careless enough to kill your own son.”

  “What?” asked Winter. “What does she mean?”

  “Never mind,” said Martin. “I need to know, Victoria. Did you couple with me only to trap me into marrying you because you were pregnant with the cordwainer’s baby?”

  “So, what if I did?” she asked, scowling and crossing her arms over her chest. “It would have worked if your father hadn’t started such an uproar with his actions. Because of it, Adam threatened to expose my secret if I didn’t leave Castle Heaton. He was afraid the old man might hurt his unborn baby next. I was so close to having everything I deserved.”

  “What you deserve is to be shipped off far away – without your son,” Martin told her.

  “What are you saying?” Victoria’s eyes narrowed.

  “Father, escort Lady Victoria back to her chamber,” said Martin. “Victoria, you’ll pack your things and, in the morning, there will be a wagon waiting for you.”

  “To take me where?” asked Victoria. “Martin, you know I have no living family.”

  “That’s why I’m sending you to live at the convent. There, you’ll have plenty of time to ponder your mistakes as well as repent for your sins.”

  “I will not live in a convent. It is no place for my son.”

  “Your son isn’t going with you.”

  “He’s not?” asked the handmaid in surprise.

  “Nay. And neither are you going with her, Glynnis,” stated Martin.

  “My lord, I’ve been a handmaid my whole life. I have nowhere else to go. Please, let me stay at Castle Heaton,” begged Glynnis.

  “You have somewhere to go,” said Winter. “You and Adam are in love. Why don’t you live with him in town?”

  “I – I couldn’t.” The handmaid’s eyes shot over to Martin.

  “Yes, you could,” said Martin. “You’ll go there to marry the man you love. And you’ll take Charles with you and raise him as your son.”

  “You can’t do that!” spat Victoria. “He’s my son and you won’t take him away from me.” She reached for the boy, but Charles cried out loudly, screeching like a banshee, not wanting to go to her.

  “I’d say your son likes you just about as much as you do him,” said Martin with a chuckle. “What kind of mother are you to not only make him live a lie but even change his name as part of your little scheme? When Charles is old enough to understand all this, he will be informed that you are his mother. At that time, it will be his choice whether he wants to live with you or not. But until then, he’ll stay with his father and Glynnis where he will be well cared for and brought up in a loving home.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” said the handmaid. “But I beg you to reconsider. Adam doesn’t make enough money to support a child and me, too.”

  “Tell Adam I’ll be ordering shoes from him for everyone in the castle from now on,” said Martin. “Also tell him that I no longer require him to pay me rent on the shop.”

  “My lord?” asked the handmaid. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m giving the two of you the shop as a wedding present. He owns it now.”

  “Oh, thank you, my lord,” said the handmaid, crying tears of joy.

  “Martin, you can’t do this to me,” whined Victoria. “Now that my son will be cared for, no one has to know who sired him. We can pretend he is Adam and Glynnis’ son. That way, you can still marry me.”

  “You are a wretched woman who doesn’t deserve a son,” spat Martin. “I would never marry someone like you, so that’s out of the question.” He reached over and took Winter’s hand. “I’m going to marry Lady Winter. If she’ll still have me.”

  Winter’s heart filled with joy. With the way things worked out, now she could marry Martin and stay here with him after all. “Aye, I still want to marry you, Martin,” she said, feeling content that he would be her husband.

  “There is only one condition,” said Martin.

  “What’s that?” piped up Rock.

  “That Lady Winter and I get married today. I will not wait a moment longer.”

  “Today?” asked Winter, her he
art beating so hard she thought it would beat right out of her chest. “I – I suppose that would be fine.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” asked Martin. “Father, take Victoria to her chamber to pack. Rock, escort Glynnis and Charles back to town. But before you leave town, send Father George to the castle. Tell him Winter and I will be married anon.”

  “Aye, my lord,” said Rock hurrying for the door.

  “Bring back Nairnie and Wallace and Josef as well,” Winter called out to him. “I don’t want them to miss the wedding.”

  “Will do, my lady.” Rock left the room with Glynnis and the boy.

  “Let’s go, Lady Victoria,” said Lambert, grabbing her arm. “Your destiny awaits.”

  She shook out of his hold. “I’ll gladly go to get away from this godforsaken place,” snapped Victoria. “But if you so much as touch me again, old man, I’ll scream so loud that they’ll hear me on the docks.”

  They left the room, and only Martin and Winter remained.

  “Thank you for the beautiful sword,” said Martin, slipping his hands around Winter’s waist. “And thank you for saying you’ll marry me.” He kissed her, causing her head to spin with excitement. When she was with Martin, she could think of nothing else.

  “Are you sure you’ve made the right decision?” asked Winter.

  “About what?” he nuzzled her ear, kissing her lightly on the back of the neck.

  “Do you think Victoria will stay in a convent?”

  “I’m sure the nuns will not put up with her antics. They’ll probably kick her out. However, that is not my problem.”

  “What about her son?” she asked. “It is cruel to take the child away from his mother.”

  “As I said – when the boy gets older he’ll learn the truth and decide for himself where he’ll go. For now, it’s better that he is raised by his father. Leaving him with Victoria would have been cruel and unusual punishment and I just couldn’t do that to the boy.”

  Winter giggled. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Let’s get out of here before I’m tempted to consummate our marriage before we’ve even said our vows.”

  Her eyes roamed over to the bed and the erotic paintings on the wall. Just thinking about the last time they’d made love was already making her feel randy.