A Fall Through Time (Stacey and Shane Mcleod, #1) (22 page)

Eric and Stacey had always tried to be close and available to their children.  They rode and hunted together, picnicked by the river or lake and taught their children how to swim.  Stacey had made swimsuits for her children so now she would do the same for her grandchildren.  Stacey thought, about her other life many times, but knew she was happy here with Eric and her family. She would not change it even if she could.

In the cold winter of fourteen-ought-six, Sir Giles died. Young Giles had died fighting for King Richard during his second campaign to Ireland. Lady Katharine wanted to go live with her daughter, Callie and Rodric at Hampton keep. She knew someone else would be taking over Finwick.  Most likely, the earl’s son or one of his sons-in-law would take over the barony. From the time, the family had toured the Mediterranean and its connecting seas Brandon had wanted to sail with Captain Ahab. Finally, when Brandon was nineteen years of age he convinced his parents to permit him to sail a season with Captain Ahab. One season turned into a year and a year into many years. Brandon returned to Dun-Raven when news reached him of the war between King Richard and Henry Bolingbroke. Brandon followed his family into battle, but by avoiding capture, he was able to assist them while they were imprisoned.

After the war, Brandon spent five more years at sea and then returned to Dun-Raven after Captain Ahab lost his life at sea. Brandon never talked about it, but Eric knew Ahab’s death preyed on his son’s mind. When Giles died, Eric asked Brandon how he would feel about taking over the barony of Finwick. Eric knew how much Stacey had worried about their youngest son and how relieved she was when he returned home to stay. Eric slapped his son on his knee and grinned, “Ye think about it son and let me know,” he said. “Oh, yes, if ye decide to take it, keep in mind, ye will still be close enough for ye mother to make a pest of herself.”

Brandon, who loved his mother dearly, laughed at his father and said, “Well, since ye put it that way Papa, how could I refuse?” 

In fourteen-ought-eight, Brandon married Joan Maxwell, Robert Maxwell’s youngest sister. Eric worried when he heard that Joan had been bound for the convent.  He wanted to talk to Brandon about it, but did not know how.  Stacey had no such problem.  When she talked with her son, he assured her they both understood about such things.

“After all,” Brandon said, “we’ve had the best of teachers.”

His mother patted his cheek and said, “I know you’re trying to embarrass me, but it won’t work.” 

Brandon laughed heartily at his mother and said, “What I wouldn’t give to know what goes on inside ye head, Mother.” 

Stacey hugged her son and said, “You would be terribly disappointed darling; it’s a rather empty space.” 

“I doubt that, Mother. We children have always known that ye and Papa have secrets.” 

Stacey kissed her son and said, “You’re a good son Brandon and I love you.  There is an old saying, ‘A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.”

The Final Days

I
n fourteen-thirteen, King Henry IV died. His son, Henry V was crowned: He was twenty-seven and anxious to make war on France. Stacey told her children, “I don’t want any of you mixed up with these Henrys. First they’ll want your money and then they’ll get you killed.”

Eric and Stacey spent much of their time together.  They still rode out together and often visited their children and grandchildren.  Cassandra was so much like her mother that Stacey felt a special bond with her youngest daughter.  Slowly she let bits and pieces of her life slip.  Cassie promised her mother, she would never betray her.  

Stacey told her, “I’m old now; it’s not I it would put in jeopardy, but you children and your children.  That’s why the less said the better.”

In the year fourteen-fourteen, Cassandra’s daughter, Eleanor, met a young knight at the county fair. His family was of Gloucester. He was the fifth son of the Earl of Gloucester. It was a known fact that there was not an adequate amount of titles or land to distribute to a fifth son. Therefore, his family wanted him to wed for a title. Even though Eleanor’s father was wealthy, he held no title.  For that reason, Thomas’s family did not approve of the marriage.

Thomas Woodstock was a young man of passion and in love with Eleanor. He broke from his family and came to Maxwell manor to ask for Eleanor’s hand in marriage.  They married without the consent

of Thomas’s grandfather, the Duke of Gloucester.  Eric had never liked the old duke and now knew he could make trouble.  Eric’s third cousin had held the Barony of Falcon Crest, until his death a month ago with no heirs. For a wedding gift to his granddaughter, the Earl of Dun-Raven arranged to gave the barony title to Thomas and Eleanor.  Eric, very well satisfied with himself said, “Now I would like to see ye old grandfather try to do something about that.” Eric was seventy-seven years old and enjoyed out witting the old duke. 

Rodric and Callie came to visit for a few weeks. The four of them laughed and talked about how they were getting old.  It seemed like only yesterday that they were young and celebrating Rodric’s eighteenth birthday. They were reminiscing about Stacey’s unorthodox arrival and how she and Eric rubbed each other the wrong way and how that had turned into a great love affair. These four people could talk and laugh freely with one another. There were no secrets between them, but many between them and the rest of the family. The children had asked so many questions over the years, however, they knew it would be dangerous for any of them to know. These four had become experts at avoiding well-aimed questions.

Geoffrey Thomas spent three years, fighting with Henry V in France. He came home in the early spring, not long before his grandfather died.  Stacey hated Henry V and his wars.  She alone knew how futile the whole thing was. England would lose their land in France in the end. Stacey hated war and the loss of young men’s lives. Eric had been having chest pains for some months. He did not tell Stacey because he knew she would worry too much. Stacey had known something wasn’t right with him for sometime. When she saw him holding his left arm she was sure it was his heart.  Stacey’s father was a doctor and she had heard medical talk at the table for twenty-one years.  Stacey knew her medical skills were limited to diet and willow bark potion.  Stacey watched as Eric became weaker and weaker. He held her hand and said, “I am so very tired, my love.” 

Stacey kissed him tenderly and said, “Why don’t you close your eyes and rest my love? I’ll be right here when you wake.”

Geoffrey Eric FitzMorgan, the Seventh Earl of Dun-Raven passed over on April fourteenth, fourteen-seventeen, three days after his eightieth birthday. Shane was now the Eighth Earl of Dun-Raven.  His wife, Anne became the new Countess of Dun-Raven, but most of the people still referred to Stacey as the old countess. Rodric, the Earl of Hampton joined his older brother four years later. Callie came and spent more and more time with Stacey. Callie said she felt lost without Rodric and Stacey agreed. She understood how it felt to lose your life partner.

As the old countess had predicted, King Henry V wanted money and men to help him wage war in France.  Slowly, but surely Stacey lost grandsons and loved ones as well as other children and castle folk to war and illness. Henry V wore the crown for nine years. His interest was in France not England.  The lords and the people kept the country together. Henry won Calais, but the best thing he ever did was to legitimize the English language through government documents to vernacular English. English was the language of the peasants. The hierarchy and ruling class had always spoken Latin and French, but now he decreed that English would be the language of England. Henry V was thought well of by many and would leave a legacy of good government when he died in fourteen-twenty-two. His nine-months-old son, became Henry VI and the Duke of York became his protector.

Heartache upon heartache, Jackie and Jessie both lost their husbands, Colin Ashworth and James Howard to Henry’s war and Stacey lost two more of her grandsons in France, Jackie’s son Roland and Cassandra’s son Robbie. In fourteen-twenty-five, Geoffrey Thomas married Katherine Sinclair, the daughter of a Scottish nobleman. Her family was not happy about her marrying an Englishman, but she was past twenty-five. They had not forced her to marry because she was very strong minded and they loved her strength, beauty and intelligence.  When she and Geoffrey Thomas met at her cousin’s party, they both knew they had found their long awaited love.  Their one and only child was Geoffrey Edward born July fourth, fourteen-thirty, in Dun-Raven castle.

Stacey thought, it was time to make a family tree.  She gathered her three daughters and granddaughters around her.  She tried to explain what she was doing. She said, “I know you’ll have questions, but I’ll tell you now that I can’t answer them. You must do what I ask on faith alone.  I have put this sign beside each of your names and also beside Margaret’s, Renni’s, Eleanor’s and her daughter, Cassandra.”

So far, Stacey had three maternal granddaughters, and one great-granddaughter. Margaret had married Phillip Hardwick of Dorset and Rinni had married Donald Stafford of the midlands.

Jackie asked, “What do these letters mean, Mother?’’

“They are a useful way to keep track of the female lines of our family,” her mother said. “Women pass it on to their daughters. I thought it would be nice if we did that and in later years, all of our female descendants will be able to trace their ancestry.  Don’t you think that will be helpful and interesting?  In addition, I want you to keep records to hand down as a family history. Do each of you understand what I’m asking you to do?”

“Yes, Mother,” Cassandra, said. “I see this is important to ye.”

“Yes it is, darling, it’s very important. Now I must warn you that this is not man’s affair. The heredity line is through the male. This has nothing to do with them one way or the other, however, they might find it threatening. This is women’s business, entirely. Do you understand?”

Well, Stacey had done all she could do it would be up to her descendants to carry it on. Without a doubt, her children and grandchildren thought the old countess strange.  Often times when the siblings were together they would reminisce and laugh about how she had the carpenter make toothbrushes for them.  Their mother made a paste with mint for them to brush their teeth with and used thread to clean between their teeth.

Brandon and Shane used to laugh about it and said, “When we were fostered to York we thought, good, no more brushing or flossing as mother called it, but we found ourselves doing it anyway.”

“I guess old habits die hard,” Shane remarked. They all admitted that they had their children and grandchildren do the same. The siblings often wondered where their mother came from. They had always known she was referred to as the maid from across the sea, but they never knew which sea.  There was no doubt she knew things other people did not know.  They all felt that Uncle Rodric knew more than he would admit. She was a mystery, this mother of theirs.  They all loved her, but they would have given much to know her secrets.

Over the years, the old countess heard rumors about Henry VI. He was nine months old when his father died in France. As he grew so did the ambitions of many of the lords close to him. The old countess never met Henry VI but often heard, he would have made a better framer or a monk. There was nothing wrong with being chaste, pious, generous, and hating violence, but a king needed resourcefulness and the ability to keep his family, and nobility inline. Henry VI was like a willow in the wind, he could blow either way. Warning her family about him the old countess said, “I guess the best that can be said about him is that he can be exceptionally naïve.”

Remembering Her Children

T
he dowager countess was ninety-six years old in fourteen-forty-seven.  She had lived a long life and had seen a lot.  She had lost her husband and four of her children.  Shane had passed over in fourteen-thirty-six, from chills, fever and inflammation of the lungs he caught coming back from Finwick castle, riding in the rain and sleet.  None of his mother’s remedies did their magic this time. The old countess was devastated.

In fourteen-thirty-nine, there was an epidemic of influenza throughout northern England.  The people at Falcon Crest castle were very ill.  Payton Ashworth, Jackie’s youngest son was now the baron there. He had replaced Cassandra’s husband, Alistair Grey, three years ago when he was thrown from his horse and broke his neck. Both Cassandra and her mother, Eleanor Woodstock, were still living there. Eleanor’s husband, Thomas Woodstock, had died fighting in France.

Payton had rode hard to bring Cassandra’s six year old daughter, little Eleanor, to Dun-Raven castle to be with her great-grandmother, Cassandra Maxwell along with his two young sons, Payton and Ross. Payton knew his grandmother had healing powers. The old countess was too old to go, but his mother Jackie and his aunt Jessie were more than ready. They had helped their mother for many years.  They packed their clothes and remedies and headed to Falcon Crest in a big coach with six horses. They took their two best helpers, Ruth and Mary with them. When they arrived, the first steps they took was to quarantine the castle and the manor house where Payton’s wife, Jane’s family the Wentworth’s lived.

In six weeks time it was all over. Payton brought Ruth and Mary home to Dun-Raven, but his heart was heavy with grief.  Both his mother Jackie and his aunt Jessie, along with his cousins Cassandra and her mother Eleanor, along with many others had succumbed to the illness. It was a hard thing to do to tell the old countess that she had lost two daughters, a granddaughter and a great-granddaughter. Payton told his grandmother, “If it helps any, they went from this world together just as they came into it.”

The old countess was heartbroken, and went into her room and wept her heart out.  She knew tears

would not bring them back, but she just could not keep them bottled up inside anymore. She had loved many and lost many.  She tried her best to remember only the good parts of the past and the happiness they had all shared together.  In the spring of fourteen-forty, Brandon died in his sleep from what the old countess believed was his heart giving out. His wife, Joan as well as Shane’s wife Anne had died in fourteen-thirty-seven.