“Did he know you were with child when he left you?” Rosamund wanted to know.
“I didn’t realize it until just a few days ago. Baen left the same day my uncle returned to Otterly,” Elizabeth said. “We had handfasted ourselves, yet he still went.”
“He must wed you properly,” Rosamund said quietly.
“Children of a handfast union are legitimate,” Elizabeth said.
“There can be no cloud of any kind tainting this child’s right of inheritance,” Rosamund told her daughter in a suddenly hard voice. “My uncle Henry Bolton’s last wife bore many bairns, but only the eldest was a true Bolton. Still, my uncle did not deny her brats for fear of being ridiculed, though all knew he was a cuckold. But they bear the name Bolton, and so under the law are Boltons. I will not have one of them suddenly arriving at Friarsgate to take it from us, Elizabeth.”
“Did you not hear me, Mama? I never want to see Baen MacColl again!”
“Do not be ridiculous, Elizabeth,” Rosamund snapped. “You will be properly wed in the church so that none of Mavis Bolton’s brats—should any still be alive, or near—can claim our home. When is the bairn due?”
“In the spring, I suppose,” Elizabeth said in a surly voice.
Rosamund drew a long, deep breath. “When were you last linked with the moon?” she demanded of her daughter. “We must know if this child will come early or late.” Her brow furrowed in thought. “If he left at the beginning of October then you had to be with child then,” Rosamund considered. “So probably by August.” She looked for Albert and, finding him, motioned him towards her. “Find Mistress Elizabeth’s woman for me,” she said.
“Yes, my lady,” the steward said. Standing so near he had heard everything that had transpired between the two women. Had he not been recently elevated to his position he would have been eager to share what he had overheard. But he was the steward of the hall, and a man in his position did not gossip. Finding Nancy, he sent her back to the hall. She undoubtedly knew of her mistress’s condition, but had said nothing. Such a woman of discretion would make a good wife for the steward of the hall, Albert thought.
Nancy curtseyed to Rosamund. “My lady?”
“Can you recall when my daughter was last linked with the moon, Nancy?”
“ ’Twas just after Lammastide,” Nancy said. “I remember because Mistress Elizabeth did not feel well, which is unusual for her. And Master MacColl carried her to her chamber for me to care for that evening.”
Rosamund nodded. “You know?”
Nancy flushed and nodded. “Aye, my lady.”
“How long have you known?” Rosamund wanted to learn.
“Why, only in the past few days, my lady,” Nancy answered. “Mistress Elizabeth was complaining that the laundress was shrinking her garments of late. But I care for my mistress’s gowns. Then I noted that her bodices were tight these days, and that she gave evidence of a belly. The words were no sooner out of my mouth when I realized what it was I had said, and said so to my mistress. She was surprised, but then she agreed it must be true.” Nancy curtseyed again to Rosamund.
“Thank you, Nancy. You may go and prepare your mistress’s bedchamber for her now. You must see she is well taken care of in the next few months.”
“Yes, my lady,” Nancy said, curtseying a third time and hurrying off.
“Logan will go north to Grayhaven as soon as possible and make the arrangements with Lord Hay,” Rosamund began.
“You can do what you want,” Elizabeth said. “I will not marry the man because I am carrying his child. He left me, Mama. His father was more important to him than I was. When it came time to make the choice he chose his sire over me. My son will never do that!” She reached for her goblet.
Rosamund stayed her hand. “You were a fool to make his decision a choice, Elizabeth. Can he not love his father and you? You know how to care for Friarsgate, but you know nothing of a man’s heart, or how to win it.”
“Friarsgate is all that has mattered to me since I gained memory, Mama,” Elizabeth told her parent. “I do not need a husband for Friarsgate.”
“Perhaps not,” her mother said dryly, “but you surely need a husband for your child. And a handfast union will absolutely not do. You are not nobility like your oldest sister, but you are an heiress of some worth. Not some milkmaid or cotter’s lass. Your marriage must be celebrated in the church, my daughter.”
“If you send my stepfather to bargain with the master of Grayhaven he will certainly quarrel with him, Mama. Logan has always been most kind to me.”
“Then Thomas Bolton must go with him,” Rosamund decided. “And I will have to ride on the morrow myself to Otterly to fetch him.” She chuckled ruefully. “He will not be pleased to be forced out of his snug home in February and told he must travel north into Scotland. But he will do it because he loves his family, Elizabeth. Remember that. Family is all that truly matters in this world in which we live. The child you now carry in your belly is family, and his father must have the opportunity to love him even as you will love him.”
“We all say ‘him,’ ” Elizabeth noted. “What if it is a girl?”
“Then we will love her as well,” Rosamund said. She beckoned to Albert. “Who is the housekeeper now?”
“Jane, my lady, Maybel’s cousin,” he answered her.
“Tell her to prepare me a bed and then fetch me a hot meal. And tell my captain I would see him when he has finished his food,” Rosamund said.
“At once, my lady,” Albert replied with a bow from the waist.
“And, Albert, I do not have to tell you to remain silent,” Rosamund murmured.
“You do not, my lady,” came the quiet response.
“And no one is to tell Maybel or Edmund that I have been here and gone, Albert. You will see to it, I know.”
“Of course, my lady.” Albert hurried off.
“You have not told Maybel of your condition, of course,” Rosamund said. “Do not until I tell you that you may. And when Logan comes, which he surely will before I am back from Otterly, you will tell him nothing. I will speak to him myself. He will not be pleased with you at all, Elizabeth. It is better that I am here when you disclose the nature of your need.”
“You don’t have to ride to Otterly to fetch my uncle, Mama, nor send him and Logan north to deal with the master of Grayhaven,” Elizabeth said. “I will not have Baen MacColl for a proper husband, and that is that.” She reached for her goblet and drank deeply from it.
“This matter is not one for any discussion between us, Elizabeth. You are with child by this Scot, and you will marry him. It makes no matter that you are angry, or that you feel betrayed. You will do what is best for Friarsgate because you are its lady, and because you are my daughter. You know your duty, Elizabeth. When I became aware of your passion for this land and your abilities to care for it I gave it to you. Do not disappoint me now by behaving in a thoroughly childish way.”
“If he really loved me he wouldn’t have left me,” Elizabeth muttered.
“Perhaps that is so,” Rosamund agreed, “but on the other hand, perhaps he was torn between the two people he loved best, and confused as to what to do. So he chose what was most familiar to him. The fact that his loyalty is so strong bodes well for you. He did not strike me as a man to avoid his duty. This situation has convinced me that neither of you has a great deal of common sense. And why didn’t you simply come to me, my daughter, and ask me to arrange this marriage in the first place?”
“I am not a child, Mama,” Elizabeth said.
“In matters such as this you certainly are,” Rosamund snapped. “It makes no difference that you are the lady of Friarsgate. Any marriage you contract must be arranged by me.” A steaming dish was placed before her. Rosamund looked up with a smile. “Thank you, Albert,” she said, giving him a smile.
“I have spoken with Jane, my lady, and your captain will join you shortly,” he responded. “Is there anything else I can do to serve you?�
��
“You have been most helpful, Albert,” Rosamund told him, and then turned back to her meal. She had just finished when the captain of her clansmen came into the hall. “Ah, Jock, here you are. I want half of your men to escort me to Otterly tomorrow. Pick those you want to go, and the rest will remain here to await the laird’s coming,” she said.
“Just half, m’lady?” he questioned her.
“The countryside between here and Otterly is as safe as any, and it is winter. As we must remain overnight I do not want to burden Lord Cambridge too greatly with our care and feeding,” Rosamund said with a small smile.
The captain nodded. “Very good, m’lady. What time will you want to depart?”
“Just at dawn. ’Tis a long day’s ride over the hills, but we should be able to reach Otterly by sunset,” Rosamund told him.
He bowed, and was gone.
“Are you angry at me, Mama?” Elizabeth asked.
“Come and let us sit by the fire,” Rosamund suggested, and the left the high board. “Nay, I am not angry with you, sweeting. But you have rather put the cart before the horse now, haven’t you? You must love him very much.”
“I love him not at all!” Elizabeth declared.
Rosamund laughed softly. “You always were a bad liar, Bessie,” she said. “Do not fear. We will negotiate a marriage contract that will allow him nothing but what you would willingly give him. If he loves you as I suspect, it will mean nothing to him, and he will sign it. His father may be a bit difficult to convince, but I think Logan and Tom will manage the master of Grayhaven between them quite nicely.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. “Baen is certain to understand, but I wonder if his proud old Highlander of a father will.”
“In the end,” Rosamund said wisely, “he will consider the advantages his son will gain by marrying you. You have said Lord Hay loves Baen. Then he will let him go, Elizabeth. If only you had consulted me on this we would have had it settled by now.”
“I thought he would stay,” Elizabeth said sadly.
Rosamund reached out and, taking her youngest daughter’s hand in hers, said quietly, “I know he must regain your trust, my child, but do not make it too difficult for him. Just enough so that he will not lose his respect for you.” She patted the hand in hers. “He is a most bonny laddie, Elizabeth. Is he big all over?”
“Mama!” Elizabeth blushed. Then she said, “Aye.”
Rosamund smiled. “You will be outrageously happy once you come to terms with each other.” Then, standing, she said, “I’m off to bed, daughter. I have a long, cold ride ahead of me tomorrow.” She bent and kissed Elizabeth on her forehead. “Good night.”
Elizabeth sat by her fire for several more long minutes. Then, standing, she got up and went down to the kitchens. A serving wench was scrubbing the large wooden table while another finished a pot in the stone sink. “Where is Cook?” she asked.
Both girls looked up, startled, but one’s eyes darted toward the pantry briefly.
Elizabeth grinned. She could now hear the low grunts and heavy breathing of a man laboring mightily over a woman. “Tell Cook I will want food ready at dawn so my mother and her men may have some sustenance along their way.”
“Yes, mistress,” the girl at the table said. She was obviously grateful Elizabeth had not ordered one of them to fetch the cook, who each night after his duties were done took one of the kitchen wenches into the pantry and lustily swived her. Cook did not like to be disturbed when he was at his pleasure.
Elizabeth grinned again, and returned to the hall to begin her nightly preparations. She snuffed the many candles, saving a single taper to light her own way upstairs. The fire was burning lower, the dogs snoring before it. A cat had taken its place in the chair where her mother had earlier sat. All was quiet. And then suddenly she felt a tiny fluttering deep in her belly. It was as if she had swallowed a butterfly. She stood stock-still, a look of amazement upon her face. Then her hands went to her belly in a protective gesture as a tear rolled down her cheek. It was real. The child was real! Reaching for her taper, Elizabeth Meredith slowly climbed the stairs from the hall to her own bedchamber, where Nancy was waiting for her.
“You look pale,” Nancy said as her mistress entered the room. “Are you all right?”
“I felt the bairn move,” Elizabeth half whispered, setting the taper down.
“Well, bless it!” Nancy said smiling. “I have heard it called the quickening. I saw your mother settled in her bed. She’s still a beautiful woman. I remember her when she was lady here.” She helped Elizabeth from her clothing but for her long chemise, which was also her night garment. “Go and wash your face and hands now before I tuck you into your bed. You need as much rest as you can get.” She bustled about putting her mistress’s things away.
Elizabeth followed Nancy’s advice, and was then tucked into her bed. When she awoke the following morning she learned that Rosamund had departed earlier. Stretching slowly, she let her gaze wander to the casement windows. The sun was shining. She was relieved that her mother would have a good day in which to travel to Otterly, which was a long and full day’s ride.
And Rosamund was equally delighted to have the burden of her trip lightened by good weather. It was wickedly cold, but there was no wind at all. It was several hours before she lost feeling in her toes and fingers. They passed by the convent of St. Margaret just at the noon hour. Rosamund heard the bells in the convent church tolling for sext. She debated stopping. Her cousin, Julia Bolton, was a nun in this convent. She had resided there since she had been weaned from her wet nurse, her stepmother and father, Henry Bolton, not wanting the bother of her care. Rosamund had met Julia, who was known as Sister Margaret Julia, twice. She was a sweet-faced woman with a sharp intellect, and had risen to be second in rank at her convent. Rosamund had liked her. She was nothing at all like her father, but then Julia Bolton could never remember ever having seen the late Henry Bolton in all of her life.
“Are we stopping?” the captain asked Rosamund, for he knew her cousin was at St. Margaret’s.
“Nay,” Rosamund said, shaking her head. “We cannot spare the time. If it were summer it would be another matter, but I want to get to Otterly by dark.”
She had refused the basket of food the Friarsgate cook wanted her to take, explaining they had no time to stop and eat. If they grew hungry they would consume the flat oatcakes the Scots all carried. There would be one brief respite from their journey so their horses might rest for a few minutes and be watered. And so that any who needed to might relieve themselves. The sun was setting in a glorious burst of red, red-orange, orange, and gold when they reached Otterly. A messenger had been sent on ahead earlier to advise of their coming. He was awaiting them, and guided them to the small private entrance of Lord Cambridge’s wing.
Rosamund dismounted and hurried inside, where a servant was waiting to escort her to a charming little hall where Lord Cambridge awaited her. The captain and her men would stable the horses and be fed in Otterly’s main hall. She was not surprised to find her middle daughter waiting with her cousin. “Banon! How lovely,” she said, hugging this second child she had borne. “Ahh, I see you are breeding again. When is this one due? How many is it now? Eight?”
“Soon,” Banon replied. “Aye, eight. What is the matter, Mama?”
“Dearest cousin!” Thomas Bolton stepped between the two women, embracing Rosamund. “Come, my darling girl, and sit down. God’s wounds, but your lovely little hands are frozen! Will! Some wine, dear boy, before my cousin perishes. Banon, my pet, bid your mama farewell. You shall see her later. It is almost dark, and your servant has remained to escort you back to your part of the house.” He smiled benignly.
“Damn it, Uncle! You come and go without exiting the premises. Why do you make me?” Banon was not pleased.
“Because, dear girl, you and your noisy brood would abuse your privilege, as you did before. I must have my privacy. Now run along,�
�� he said, patting her shoulder and gently pushing her out the door into the foyer.
Rosamund chuckled. “You have her completely in hand, Tom. I always wondered how you would manage with my clever Banon.” She sipped her wine slowly. The feeling was beginning to return to her hands and feet with a tingling and burning sensation. She sighed as she began to relax.
“You did not ride down from Scotland in the middle of February simply to pay me a social call, my darling girl,” Lord Cambridge said. “I echo Banon’s query. What is the matter? Is Logan all right?”
“For now Logan is visiting John at St. Cuthbert’s, and hoping that his eldest son has changed his mind. I know he has not, but if he had he would find himself in a quarrel with my eldest son, who now sees himself the next laird,” Rosamund said. “But it has nothing to do with the Hepburns, Tom. It is Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth? Is she all right, dear girl?” he asked, his look concerned.
“No, Tom, she is not all right. She is with child. Baen MacColl’s bairn,” Rosamund told him.
“And he has left her.” Lord Cambridge looked irritated. “The fool. He loves her.”
“He departed from Friarsgate the same day you did, Tom. She had no sooner bid you farewell than he rode out to return to Grayhaven,” Rosamund said. “He knows nothing of his coming child. Elizabeth didn’t realize it until a short while back. Her whole attention is on Friarsgate, the sheep, the wool trade. And with Edmund unable to carry part of that burden now, it has all been up to her. She has never been a girl to think of herself when others needed her. When she realized her condition she sent for me, though why I cannot fathom, since she doesn’t want to take my advice. Why is it that two of my three daughters have persisted in being so stubborn where men are concerned? When I remember how Philippa howled and snarled at us over that foolish incident with Giles FitzHugh; and yet she found perfect happiness with Crispin.”
The Last Heiress Page 29