Blaze Wyndham (23 page)

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.

L
ady 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.