Gratefully Blaze escaped the Great Hall of Ashby, her mother, and her sisters. She sped up the stairs to the small room she shared with Bliss and Blythe. Quickly she removed her everyday skirt and bodice, replacing them with a clean white shirt and a somewhat worn but sturdy dark velvet riding skirt. Whatever the skirt’s color had once been, the material had faded long since into an undistinguishable hue. From a corner she drew out her riding boots and pulled them on, wincing at the fact that they pinched her toes, which were now longer than when the boots had been made five years ago. Still, they had a comfortable familiarity about them. As she stood, however, it suddenly dawned on her that Lord Wyndham would probably have new boots made for her. New boots, and a riding skirt of deep blue velvet with a matching bodice, and a hat with a white plume! For a moment she closed her eyes, envisioning herself in such finery, and decided that she liked the picture. There were certain advantages to marriage with a wealthy man that she had not considered. How Bliss would chide her for that oversight.
She hurried back down the staircase, out the front door to where her father was already mounted waiting. A stableboy boosted her into her own saddle, and father and daughter moved off from the house at a leisurely pace. They rode in silence for a time, but once they gained the narrow path across the estate through the fields, Lord Morgan asked his daughter, “How do you really feel about this marriage, Blaze?”
“Would my feelings really make a difference, Papa? I must marry, must I not? And is not this match indeed a miracle as Mama says?”
“If I believed that marriage to Lord Wyndham were a bad thing for you, Blaze, I should not have agreed to the earl’s proposal. It is true that you must marry, and that this match is indeed an incredible piece of good fortune for us all. I would help you come to terms with yourself, however, my daughter. I do want you to be happy.”
“I am frightened,” said Blaze, “but of what, I am not certain. I hate the thought of leaving Ashby. Yet, as Bliss reminds me, I am to be mistress of a great house. I cannot help but wonder if it is as beautiful as here. Whether I will grow to love it. What if I do not? I do no know this man I am to marry. He does not know me either. What if we do not like each other? I understand his reasons for wanting another wife, yet if those are his only reasons, can he learn to care for me, and I him? It is all very difficult and confusing, Papa.
“One moment I am excited, for I never aspired to such a match. Indeed I fully expected to end up with Squire Greene’s younger son if they would have a dowerless girl. I suspected in my case that they might, for the squire is an ambitious man. I could see him weighing the thought of sharing grandchildren with a baron of the realm each time our families met.” She chuckled throatily, and Robert Morgan joined her laughter.
“Yet in another moment,” Blaze continued, “there is a part of me, Papa, that resents the Earl of Langford’s arrogance in arriving here with scant notice to demand one of your fertile daughters to wive.”
Robert Morgan nodded his understanding of his daughter’s feelings, then said, “He meant no disrespect, Blaze. Of that I am certain. Wealthy and powerful men look at these things differently. They come to the point quickly with little shilly-shallying. Time for them is a commodity to be husbanded as carefully as their gold. Lord Wyndham knew our position. He knew that as the father of eight daughters I would want to wed them to this family’s best advantage. He also knew that we had little if any financial wherewithal. The advantage was really his, Blaze. Yet at no time did he make me feel a beggar at his gates. If there is any of the arrogance in him that you accuse him of, I have not seen it.”
“How old is he, Papa?”
“He will be thirty-five in August,” came the reply.
“That is very old, Papa.”
Robert Morgan did not know whether he felt like laughing or weeping at his eldest child’s remark. He was but forty. From Blaze’s standpoint, however, he realized that thirty-five must look ancient. She would be sixteen on the last day of November. Still, such disparity in ages between a man and his wife was not unusual. Especially as women were apt to die younger due to the rigors of childbirth, and men were quite likely to remarry. A man, particularly a childless man or one with only daughters, would want a fecund female, not an older woman with little chance of birthing a son.
A small cough from his daughter reminded him that she needed further reassurance.
“Lord Wyndham is quite in his prime, Blaze. I expect that you will find him a vigorous lover.” He glanced over at her, and saw that his words had brought a deep blush to her cheeks. He chuckled wickedly.
“Papa!” she scolded him, and kicked her mount into a canter.
For a moment he watched her go, the sky-blue ribbon that held her lovely golden-brown hair falling away, and her tresses streaming out in the summer’s breeze. Lord Wyndham was going to be very surprised to learn that he had gotten himself quite a bargain in Blaze Morgan. Perhaps Rosemary was correct when she said that their daughters’ beauty must count for something. For a moment Robert Morgan’s eyes narrowed in thought. Blaze’s marriage. Her new position. The dowries for his other girls. All would enable him to rebuild Ashby, even improve it. The alliances he would contract for his daughters could help him to obtain an heiress for Gavin. He was going to be very careful in the matches he made. Now he could afford to be choosy.
“Papa!” Blaze had stopped her headlong flight and was now calling him.
Robert Morgan waved his hand at her and grinned. “I am coming, Blaze,” he shouted. “I will race you to the lake!” Kicking his stallion into a gallop, he raced after his daughter, who, hearing his words, had already sent her own horse into flight.
Chapter 2
“You place us in a difficult position, sir,” said Robert Morgan. There was no mistaking the irritation in his voice.
Anthony Wyndham flushed, but he held his ground. “The matter is as hard for me, sir, as it is for you, but I am only following Edmund‘s—my uncle’s—orders.”
“My daughter is a sensitive girl,” Lord Morgan protested. “She has never even met the earl. Finding herself promised in marriage to a stranger has taken some getting used to for her. Yet knowing that she would meet her betrothed before the wedding within the bosom of her family has helped her to come to terms with this match. Now you tell me that you have come to wed Blaze by proxy for your uncle, and that you will escort her back to him at RiversEdge. I like it not, sir!”
“I have already explained to you, my lord, why my uncle has sent me to ask this of you. You and your family are invited to come back to RiversEdge with me for the second ceremony.”
Lord Morgan slammed his fist into the palm of his other hand. “We cannot leave Ashby right now, sir! It is the harvest season. All hands, even our fine white noble ones, are needed here on this estate if my people and I are to survive the winter.”
Anthony Wyndham’s manner softened. He knew the position that Lord Morgan was in, for his uncle had been more than frank with him. Only four years separated the two men, and having been raised together, they were more like brothers than uncle and nephew. “My uncle’s people need to see the ceremony of his new marriage. They need the hope that it offers them. Surely you understand this, my lord.”
“Rob.” Rosemary Morgan spoke quietly. “It is certainly very disappointing for us not to have the full pomp of Blaze’s wedding, but I know that you would not endanger the match in your chagrin.” She smiled encouragingly at her husband.
Anthony Wyndham thought to himself as he watched her that if the daughter was as lovely as the mother, then his uncle was certainly a fortunate man. Lady Morgan was a radiant beauty.
“I know,” she continued softly to her husband, “that Blaze is your especial pet, but with our large brood there will be weddings aplenty. Those weddings cannot, however, take place unless this one does.” It was a gentle warning that even Anthony Wyndham understood.
Lord Morgan gave a soft groan of defeat. “You are right, my love,” he said, and
looking up, pierced the earl’s nephew with a half-angry gaze. “When?” he demanded.
“Tomorrow, my lord. I must bring the bride to RiversEdge as quickly as I can.”
“Blaze’s dower chest is in complete readiness,” said Lady Morgan, forestalling the new outburst she saw brewing in her husband’s blue eyes. “The proxy ceremony can take place first thing in the morning. It is better that our daughter not dwell upon this sudden change, although she will certainly be distressed.”
Anthony Wyndham’s relief was openly visible. “I have brought with me a maidservant of my uncle’s to be a traveling companion to his betrothed wife. Her name is Heartha. She has with her the bridal garments and other clothing for the lady Blaze.”
“I shall go and fetch my daughter,” said Lady Morgan. “I shall allow you to tell her of these changes, Master Anthony, for I believe you can do it better than either my husband or myself.” Rising from her seat, Rosemary Morgan hurried out.
Lord Morgan snorted. Then he grinned broadly at his guest. “You do understand that my wife believes that if you tell Blaze, she will not cause a scene.”
“Your daughter is hot-tempered?” Anthony Wyndham’s light-colored eyes showed mild curiosity.
“You will soon judge for yourself, sir,” replied Lord Morgan with a small chuckle. “Of course there is the possibility that my daughter will remember her manners.” Then he laughed aloud.
Anthony Wyndham suddenly looked distinctly uncomfortable. He had not wanted this particular commission, but Edmund had insisted, and they were best friends.
“I cannot,” he had said, “leave RiversEdge now. I believe the worst to be over, but if I left our people at this point it would dishearten them. Go to Ashby Hall and bring back my bride, Tony. I know it may distress her to have our wedding plans changed so abruptly, but we need Blaze here at RiversEdge now!”
“Master Anthony, I present my daughter Blaze to you.” Robert Morgan’s voice pierced Anthony Wyndham’s thoughts.
Focusing his light blue eyes, he looked down upon the most exquisite creature he had ever beheld. A pair of violet-blue eyes set within a perfect heart of a face which was framed in a halo of golden-brown hair looked curiously back. It was all he could do to keep himself from reaching out and touching her. He felt tongue-tied as he struggled to speak, his own voice sounding hollow in his ears. “I bring you greetings from your betrothed husband, lady.”
“I welcome you to Ashby, Master Anthony.” Her voice was clear and musical in tone.
“Master Anthony has some exciting news for you, Blaze,” said Lady Morgan, gently prompting him. “Pray be seated, as it will take some telling. Your father and I, already being informed, will now return to our tasks.” Rosemary Morgan took her surprised husband by the hand and walked from the room.
Seating herself in a tapestry-backed chair, Blaze looked up at Anthony Wyndham, wondering if her betrothed husband were as handsome as this man. His coal-black hair and clear, light blue eyes with their thick sooty lashes were a startling contrast to his very fair skin. No. Papa had said that the earl had brown eyes.
“What is it you wish to tell me, sir?” she queried Anthony. “Has your uncle changed his mind about acquiring another wife?”
“Nay, lady! He is most eager for your arrival, which is why I have come. There has been a severe summer sickness amongst the children at RiversEdge. Several previously healthy younglings died. That tragedy was almost immediately followed by a freak storm with fierce lightning. It attacked the estate without warning. There was no time to bring the stock in from the pastures. One huge bolt of lightning struck in a field with such ferocity that it set the trees afire and killed an entire flock of sheep that had been grazing in that particular meadow. The terrible and hellish sound of it was heard for miles around.
“The people of RiversEdge are demoralized by these frightening events. The old goodwives are prattling about bad fortune visiting us because of my uncle’s lack of a wife and children. Then two nights ago Edmund gave an outdoor fete to cheer his people’s spirits and reassure them. Shortly after sunset a fireball was seen shooting across the heavens, thereby giving rise to more tidings of doom.
“My uncle has therefore decided that he cannot leave his estates at this time. Nonetheless he does not seek to postpone your nuptials. Rather he would use this marriage for a good omen. He has sent me to act as his proxy. We will wed immediately, and I will bring you back to RiversEdge, where Edmund hopes that a formal celebration of your marriage will encourage and cheer your people. As my uncle’s wife, it will be your duty to see to such matters.”
Surprised by this sudden change in her wedding plans, and outraged by his last words to her, Blaze stamped her foot. Then, standing up, she said angrily, “I am more aware than you, sir, of a wife’s duties! How dare you seek to preach them to me? I regret the trials that have been visited upon RiversEdge, but I find this change of plans unseemly. I will, however, abide by my lord’s wishes in this matter. When will the proxy ceremony take place?”
He was astounded by her anger, but decided it was but caused by her disappointment. “Tomorrow,” he answered her.
“Tomorrow?” she shrieked. Her head was beginning to throb.
“My uncle wants you at RiversEdge before the week’s end, lady.” He was not certain how to deal with this outraged child-woman who was about to be his aunt. Had she been his betrothed wife he would have found himself torn between kissing her and spanking her.
Blaze drew a deep breath to still her anger. She could not ever remember having been so furious. The earl was most considerate of his people, and very eager for himself, but what of her?
“You will like RiversEdge,” Anthony said in an attempt to placate her. “It is a fitting setting for such a beautiful jewel of a woman as you are.”
“I do not think you have the right to speak to me in such an intimate fashion, sir,” she said stiffly. “Remember that I am to be your uncle’s wife, and in future, address me with the respect due my station.” She almost gasped with surprise at her own words. Why on earth was she behaving this way?
“No disrespect was meant, madam,” he said coolly, thinking that though she be beautiful she was prudish. He pitied his uncle now, for gentle Cathy had been a warm and vibrant woman.
“Is there anything else you would tell me, sir?” Blaze demanded. When he shook his head in the negative, she curtsied, saying as she left the room, “Then I shall bid you a good day, sir.”
It took every ounce of self-control she possessed to walk from the room with what she hoped was a regal stance. Her heart was hammering violently within her chest. She was angry, and excited, and afraid all at once. She was certain that her legs were wobbling even if her backbone was stiff and straight. As she closed the door behind her she broke into a run, fleeing up the staircase to her bedchamber so she might have a few moments to regain her composure before she must face her family. It was not to be. All her sisters, but for baby Glenna, were crowded into the room awaiting her.
“Well?” demanded Bliss. “Who is he? He’s got a full dozen men-at-arms wearing the Langford livery with him. There’s even a female servant who came with them, and is closeted with Old Ada now. They are unpacking the most gorgeous clothing I have ever seen!”
“Am I allowed no privacy in my own chamber?” Blaze grumbled.
“Not until you tell!” replied Delight mischievously.
“We’re all dying of curiosity,” said Blythe in her sweet, soft voice.
“Oh, very well,” muttered Blaze. “There are no secrets in this house anyway. You’ll all know soon enough. He is Master Anthony Wyndham, the earl’s nephew.”
“He is gorgeous,” remarked thirteen-year-old Delight with an exaggerated sigh that caused her younger siblings to giggle.
“No future,” said the practical Bliss. “Blaze is bound to have a dozen sons if the earl does his duty by her.”
“It won’t change the fact that he’s gorgeous, as Delight says, even if he
is poor,” said Blythe with a twinkle. “Besides, he cannot be too poor.”
“Time enough for gorgeous men after we’ve all married rich men,” Bliss replied, dismissing Anthony Wyndham’s prospects. “Why is he here? Your wedding is not for another fortnight.”
“My wedding is tomorrow,” Blaze said irritably, plumping herself into the middle of their big bed, and going on to explain to her astounded sisters the whys and wherefores of the change.
“Why, ’tis outrageous!” sputtered Bliss when her elder sister had finished with her explanations. “A woman may have more than one wedding in her lifetime if she is widowed, but there is only one first wedding. It is like only being able to lose your virginity once! It is special!”
“ ’Twas to be no great affair, Bliss,” Blaze offered logically, trying to reason away her own disappointment. “The most important thing for me was that my family would be there, and you all will be.”
“But we have not yet met Lord Wyndham!” wailed Blythe. “You will marry a man that none of us even knows! It frightens me to even think on it.”
“Don’t be such a goose,” Bliss scolded her twin. “The only one who has to know the earl is Blaze, and she will soon enough. Perhaps your wedding was not to be a great affair, sister, but there was to have been a small celebration. Now you must be wed first thing tomorrow morning. Then be bundled off to RiversEdge without so much as a bridescake and wine. A girl’s wedding day is important to her, but I suppose the earl would not have stopped to consider that. How dreary of him!”
“I was angry too when I first learned of these changes in our plans,” admitted Blaze, “but as I reconsider Master Anthony’s words I realize that it is rather flattering that the earl should feel my presence can cheer his people. No one has ever before thought me useful for anything.”
Blaze Wyndham Page 4
