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.”
Chapter 30
Remembering Her Children
The 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.
Brandon’s two sons, William and Matthew had more or less taken over the running of Finwick castle, while their father was ill. Brandon and his mother had always been close, and had spent more and more time together. After he lost Joan, he was at loose ends and the visits with his mother always cheered him up. Brandon had thought of her as eternal because she had always been there. He remembered the songs she used to sing to them that did not make sense. She would laugh and say, “They are other worldly songs, my darlings.”
That was how he had felt about his mother sometimes, as if she was from some other place. He told her that one day when he was six or seven, but she just hugged him and said, “Don’t you ever think that, my sweetheart. My place is right here with you.”
Chapter 31
The Circle of Life
The old countess had one child left, Cassandra Maxwell. Burdened with her grief she told Cassandra, “Parents should never out live their children it’s too painful.” Cassandra understood that very well, having lost all of her own children. The old countess was full of sorrow, having lost so many of her loved ones. She knew her time was near so with one last desperate try she called her grandsons together.
There was Payton Ashworth, with his two sons, Payton II and Ross. Then James Adam Howard with his son, James Eric Howard. Richard Maxwell with his two sons, Stephen and Charles. William and Matthew FitzMorgan and Geoffrey Thomas FitzMorgan with his son Geoffrey Edward FitzMorgan.
The grandsons and great-grandsons, all came to her sitting room. She told them, “I know you can’t stay out of the conflict between York and Lancaster, however, I must warn you that they are both treacherous. Listen my darlings; I would also warn you that the earl of Warwick and Neville family cannot be trusted either. I want you all to stay as safe as possible. Trust none of them and stay within your own family as much as possible”
Matthew asked, “Grandmother is there anything ye can tell us about ye?”
“No, my darling,” the old countess said. “There’s nothing about me that would keep you safe.”
For many years, Stacey had been referred to as the old countess, and Anne as the countess and Katherine, wife of Geoffrey Thomas as her ladyship, even though she was the actual countess. After Shane, Geoffrey Thomas’s father died, Geoffrey Thomas became the ninth earl of Dun-Raven.
One afternoon Cassandra was visiting her mother. She was standing by the window over looking the orchard. Her mother asked, “What’s so interesting out there?”
Cassandra said, “It is Eleanor Jean and Geoffrey Edward. They’re walking in the orchard holding hands.”
“How old are they now?” the old countess asked.
“Fourteen and seventeen,” Cassandra said. “Should I put a stop to it Mother or is their bl
oodline far enough apart?”
Her mother thought for a while then said, “Leave them alone, darling. I have a good feeling about them. Let love blossom.”
The old countess knew she was near the end of her life. A few days later, she breathed her last after saying goodbye to her remaining child and grandchildren. They were all near as a river of darkness engulfed her, and swept her toward the light. All of a sudden she sat up, put her arms out and said,
“Oh Eric, darling, you waited for me.
Epilogue
London, England 2002
A young woman lay in a hospital room in London. She had been unconscious going on three days; she had no injuries that were visible. The doctor had ordered an MRI, an EEG and a CAT scan, but everything looked normal. The young woman’s best friend was at her bedside. As the doctor was shining a light in the patient’s eyes, she opened them suddenly blinked a couple of times threw her arms around the doctor’s neck and said, “Oh, Eric darling you waited for me.”
She pulled the doctor to her and kissed him. When the doctor realized he was returning her kiss he instantly pulled away and said, “Welcome back Miss Scott, I’m Doctor McLeod. We were getting quite concerned about you.”
Stacey said, “Eric, you’re young again. Am I young too? Is this the way heaven is?” Stacey only had eyes for the man she thought, was her long dead husband, Eric FitzMorgan.
A young woman on the other side of the bed kept talking to her, “Stacey, I’m Annie. Don’t you recognize me?”
The doctor was taking her pulse and asking, Did her head hurt? Stacey’s head was beginning to clear. She touched the doctor’s arm and asked, “If you’re not Eric, who are you?”
“I’m Doctor McLeod,” he said again. “You had quite a tumble, young lady.”
“No, I just died. I’m ninety-six years old,” Stacey said.
Doctor McLeod chuckled and said, “I believe you may be a few years younger than that, Miss Scott.”
“You don’t understand, I have children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren,” Stacey insisted.
Annie brought her compact for Stacey to look at herself in the mirror. Annie asked, “Do you remember falling, sweetie?”
“Yes, but that was so long ago,” Stacey said.
“No, sweetie, it was just three days ago. We have all been so worried about you. You fell through a weak spot in the villa.”
“I woke up in a meadow in the year, thirteen-seventy. Then she turned to the doctor and said, “I’m sorry Doctor McLeod, I see you’re not Eric now.”
“I can call Eric and he’ll be right over,” Annie said.
“Where is he?” Stacey asked.
“He’s at the dig, sweetie. He was here most of yesterday he’s been wanting to call your parents.”
“Is he okay? How does he look?” Stacey asked.
“You know like always, tall, handsome, blond hair and blue eyes.”
“No,” Stacey said. “That’s not my Eric.”
“Of course he is, you two are great friends; more than friends, really.”
“Visit with your friend, Professor Rutledge and I’ll be back and we’ll talk more a little later,” Doctor McLeod said.
Stacey thanked him and then asked Annie, “What do you think happened to me?”
“I don’t know sweetie, it sounds like a past life experience to me.”
“I don’t know either,” Stacey said, “but you can bet your boots when I get out of here, I’m darn sure gonna’ find out.”
Book 2 ~ In Search of the Past is available now!
Stacey Scott is a beautiful strong-minded young woman who does not give up easily when she feels she is right. With only two weeks left in England, she searches library after library hoping to find some kind of information on the FitzMorgan family. She is surprised and disappointed when she finds nothing. Stacey remembered in her dream Dun-Raven castle was in Yorkshire. She wanted to leave immediately, but remembered she had promised her friend Annie that she would attend the Fund Raiser on Friday night with her, of whom her Uncle was, the Chairman.
On Saturday morning, Stacey rented a car and headed north to Leeds, Yorkshire. Stacey knew that she, or rather the old countess had died in fourteen-forty-seven. At that, time she still had four living grandson as well as numerous great-grandchildren. There must be records of them somewhere, she thought. As soon as the libraries in Leeds opened Monday morning, Stacey was there ready to search the records for birth or deaths of FitzMorgans, Ashworths, Maxwell’s and Howards. There were three castles of her descendants. Finwick Keep, Falcon Crest, and last but not least, Dun-Raven castle. Stacey studied medieval maps of Yorkshire that the library provided. Of course, the terrain looked much different in two-thousand-two, that it did in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.
The staff at the library wanted to assist in anyway they could. They helped her find Ashworths and Maxwell’s, but they were too recent to be ancestors. Around one o’clock, Stacey left the library tired and disappointed once again, but she was not going to give up on her search. She decided to just start driving. The countryside was quite beautiful; Stacey knew she had never been here before, except in her dream. She wondered again, if her dream could be a past life experience. She knew so little about things like that. Stacey had never been what you might call, devout. Mr. Chen had taught her about the breath of life, so Stacey looked up at the sky and said, “Deities, I’m putting myself in your hands, if ya’ll are out there show me the way, but you’ll need to hurry, I have to leave in two weeks.”
About the Author
Rikki M. Dyson is a widow and lives in Crowley, Texas. She started out writing Children’s Books.
When her retired Air Force husband passed away in 2002, she left California, moved back to her native Texas, and begins writing novels to supplement her income. If you enjoyed reading ‘A fall through Time,’ first book of the Trilogy, as much I enjoyed writing it, I hope you will come along with Stacey as she goes ‘In Search of the Past,’ the second book of the series.
e-mail address, [email protected]
I would love to hear your review.
A Fall Through Time (Stacey and Shane Mcleod, #1) Page 18
