Blaze Wyndham

by Bertrice Small

“Do you think he is as handsome as his nephew?” wondered Blythe. “Do you think there is a family resemblance?”

  “I hope not! I find Master Anthony arrogant and impossible,” said Blaze furiously.

  “What’s this?” pounced Bliss.

  “This, as you put it, is nothing,” responded Blaze. “I simply do not like Master Anthony.”

  “Why?” demanded Bliss. “You haven’t known the man long enough to either like or dislike him.”

  Blaze pondered a moment. “I don’t know why,” she finally answered, “but he irritates me. I can only hope that his uncle is nothing like him, and that we will not have to see too much of him at RiversEdge.”

  “That may not be possible,” warned Blythe. “From what that Heartha told Old Ada, the two men are but four years apart in age. They were raised together by your husband-to-be’s half-sister, Master Anthony’s mother. They are more like brothers, and very close. You had best hide your dislike, sister. Your husband-to-be and his nephew are friends as well as relations.”

  “I can mask my feelings, Blythe. Later, when the children come, Master Anthony will be of less importance to my husband. My lord will have his own family and his nephew will no longer matter to him that much.”

  “What’s this? What’s this?” Old Ada’s grizzled head popped around the door. “Why are ye not abed, my chicks? There is a wedding to be celebrated on the morrow, and ye’ll not look yer best, any of ye, if ye don’t get yer sleep. To bed with all of ye!” she scolded fondly as she chased Delight, Vanora, and the second set of twins from the little chamber.

  The room had grown chilly with the night. Bliss and Blythe quickly undressed down to their chemises while Blaze pulled back the covers. The three sisters climbed into their bed, pressing together for warmth.

  “It will seem strange tomorrow night without you, Blaze,” said Blythe.

  “Take Delight in with you,” came the reply. “She’s nearer in age to you both than she is to Vanora and the other twins. Mother will probably want to separate Glenna from Gavin now that she has the room. As the only boy, he really ought to have his own chamber. If Glenna goes in with Vanora, Larke, and Linnette, it will really be too crowded for Delight. She would be thrilled if you would ask her to join you, Bliss.” Blaze knew that Blythe was more generous of heart, and would gladly have Delight share their chamber now that she was apprised of the situation.

  “Oh, let the little brat join us,” said Bliss grudgingly. “As I sleep in the middle, I shall freeze to death this winter unless I have another body beside me.” She put her back to Blaze. “I’ll tell her in the morning,” she finished, and then with her usual habit dropped off almost immediately to sleep.

  “She is going to miss you more than she will admit, Blaze,” said Blythe softly in the darkness.

  “I know, and I will miss her too.”

  The room grew quiet once more. Soon Blaze heard Blythe’s even breathing, and knew that she had fallen asleep also. It was all so familiar and safe, but tomorrow she would be torn from the haven of security that she had known all her life. She would begin a new life with a stranger in a strange place. Blaze considered. She wasn’t really frightened, for she knew her parents would not have allowed this marriage if they were not certain that Lord Wyndham was a good and decent man. She understood the logic for this sudden change in plans, for a proxy marriage ceremony and a swift return to RiversEdge. Logic always prevailed. Yet deep within her burned a small flame of angry resentment. She knew she had no choice but to trust the judgment of the Earl of Langford in the matter of his people’s welfare. Still, she could not help but think he might have left RiversEdge for one day. Was one day so very much?

  Blaze turned onto her side. Tomorrow should have been the most memorable day in her life. It was her wedding day, and now it was spoilt! Instead of a day of feasting and joy, it would be a hurried affair. She would leave almost immediately after the ceremony. Her mother had taken her aside earlier when she had gone to show her the beautiful clothing that the earl had sent for her.

  “You must take the long way around to RiversEdge, for you will be passing through several villages belonging to the Langford earldom, and it is necessary that the villagers see you,” said Rosemary Morgan to her eldest child. “Therefore there can be no feasting following the marriage ceremony. A health will be drunk to you and your husband, you will change your clothes, and you will depart.” She put motherly arms about her daughter. “Oh, my dear, I am so sorry, for poor though we may be, I had intended that this most special of days in your life be more festive. Somehow it does not seem fair. Yet when I think of the fine marriage you are making, I realize that I must put my own concerns aside.”

  Well, thought Blaze sleepily, whatever I may feel about the matter, the die is cast, and it is out of my hands. I will be wed tomorrow in a proxy ceremony whether I like it or not, and I shall go off to meet my husband.

  Her husband! What was he like? Would he be kind to her? Would he ever love her? Would she learn to love him? Would it be as little Vana had said? Surely the earl would be gentle with her, taking into account her virginity. She wanted to imagine what it would be like to be loved by him, but it was so hard trying to picture it in her ignorance. Vana, of course, had shed some light on the mysteries between a man and a woman, but one could not be certain if the nobility did it the same way as the lower classes. I shall know soon enough, she considered, and with a great effort put her busy and nervous mind on the business of sleep.

  It seemed she slept not at all. Then suddenly she was being shaken awake by her sisters, even the tiny red-haired Glenna. With hugs and laughter they drew her into the land of the awakened, pelting her with asters, and Mary’s Gold, and purple-and-white Michaelmas daisies.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead!” they cried together. “It is your wedding day!”

  Blaze couldn’t help but weep a little, for once more she realized that this was the last time that they would all be together like this. To her surprise her sisters became weepy too, even Bliss, who muttered irritably, “All of our lives we have dreamed of wedding days. Now that the first of us is to go, we sob and carry on like babies. I do not understand it!”

  Lady Morgan and Old Ada arrived accompanied by several maidservants who carried a tub and the buckets and jars of hot water necessary to fill it. The bed that the three sisters shared was pushed into a corner of the small room so the tub might be set up.

  “Heartha will help you to bathe and dress,” said Rosemary Morgan to her eldest child when the others had been shooed from the chamber and they were alone. “There is something, however, that I must discuss with you beforehand. It is the way of a man with a woman. It is not necessary nor would it be appropriate for you to have too great a knowledge, but you should know what to expect, Blaze. As for the rest, the earl will instruct you as pleases him, which is as it should be. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mama,” Blaze said dutifully, hoping her mother’s explanations would clear up the several unanswered questions she had due to Vana’s discourse of yesterday. Lady Morgan, however, seemed disinclined to go into too great detail regarding the relationship between a husband and wife. One thing Blaze did learn to her relief was that all couples, no matter their social standing, performed the act in approximately the same fashion.

  “You need not be afraid,” said Lady Morgan, “although it will seem a bit awkward and strange to you in the beginning. Oh, yes! I must not forget to tell you that the first time your husband’s manhood penetrates into your body it will hurt you. It is only the first time, though, and it is due to the barrier to your maidenhead, which he will pierce, thereby ending your state of virginity. Now, dear child, I shall leave you to the kindly ministrations of the good Heartha. You are a good daughter, Blaze, for all your high-spiritedness. I know you will make us proud in your new life as the Countess of Langford.” Then, giving her eldest a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, Lady Morgan departed the room.

  Heartha came, and wisely sensin
g the bride’s pensive mood, refrained from chatter. Removing the girl’s chemise, she helped her into the small tub, bathed her, and washed her hair. Rubbing her down with linen cloths, the tiring woman noted the girl’s well-shaped limbs, the broad span between her hipbones, so unlike poor Lady Catherine’s, and the girl’s small round breasts. It was a body much more suited to childbearing than the late countess’s had been. Wrapping Blaze in a large rough towel, Heartha carefully removed the snarls from her long wet hair, then brushed it until all the excess water was gone from it.

  “Now, my lady,” she said, “let me sit you by the window. If I spread your hair out over the sill, it will soon be dry in that lovely September sun.”

  While Blaze sat quietly, almost dreamily, her lovely golden-brown hair blowing in the gentle breeze of early morning, Heartha moved busily about the room, laying out the silk stockings and other undergarments that the bride would be wearing. The door opened to admit a serving woman who carried the bridal gown.

  The time seemed to pass in a haze after that. It was as if her body were merely a vehicle from which she peered out at what was going on around her. She could hear her sisters exclaiming with delight as they donned their own gowns. Only the tiniest of alterations had been needed upon the beautiful velvet dresses that Edmund Wyndham had so thoughtfully provided for his sisters-in-law-to-be.

  Sky-blue for Bliss and Blythe. Scarlet for Delight. Rose-pink for Larke and Linnette. Peach for Vanora, who had almost swooned with pleasure over the first gown she had ever owned that had not been handed down to her. For five-year-old Glenna with her chestnut-red hair there was a gown of dark green velvet. Nor had Gavin, her twin, been forgotten. He strutted about quite proudly in a black velvet suit with the first pair of breeches he had ever owned.

  “Ohh, my lady, you are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen!” exclaimed Heartha. “I only wisht there was a glass here that you might see yourself in, but no matter. There’s a lovely pier glass in your apartments at RiversEdge. Tomorrow you will wear this gown once more for our people to see. You can see yourself in it then.”

  Lady Morgan entered the room. “Good, my dearest, you are ready. Your sisters have made you this wreath of Michaelmas daisies for your head.” She placed the flowery little circlet of white and yellow atop Blaze’s soft hair, which was loose and unbound, testifying to her virgin state.

  Together, Lord and Lady Morgan led their eldest child into the family chapel. It was overcrowded with Blaze’s family, the servants, and major tenants belonging to Ashby. Just below the carved oak altar with its beautifully embroidered white linen cloth stood Father John, a man of middle years with receding sandy hair and light blue eyes that peered myopically in the candlelight of the room. With the priest stood Anthony Wyndham, who would act as proxy for his uncle, the earl. The proxy bridegroom was garbed in black velvet.

  Blaze was now so benumbed by the last twenty-four hours that the wedding ceremony was more like a dream to her. Blindly she spoke her part when requested to, staring down almost in bewilderment when Master Anthony shoved a heavy band of Irish red-gold carved round with hearts and flowers upon her hand. She somehow managed to stumble through the Mass that followed. The host upon her tongue melted away like a sugar drop; then her mouth was suddenly dry. It was not like any wedding day she had ever imagined.

  Finally it was over. Master Anthony led her out of the chapel. For the first time in over an hour Blaze was able to draw a deep breath. Almost instantly her head cleared. Within the chapel with its flickering beeswax tapers and heavy clouds of exotic incense her chest had felt constricted.

  “You are quite pale,” he said quietly. “Are you all right?”

  Blaze nodded. “A wedding, even such a hurried, proxy affair as this one, is apt to be overwhelming for the bride. I could not breathe, but I am fine now.”

  He led her into the Great Hall. Her family and the others came behind them. There her father raised his goblet to her, as did all the others within the hall.

  “A health to my daughter Blaze,” Lord Morgan said. “Long life! Happiness! And many sons to my beloved first child, the Countess of Langford!”

  “Long life! Happiness! Many children! And God bless her, the Countess of Langford!” came the echoed reply from the guests in the hall.

  Her health and that of the absent bridegroom were drunk. Then Blaze was hurried from the Great Hall back to her own chamber. There Heartha helped her to remove the lovely wedding gown, redressing her in the dark blue velvet skirt and matching bodice with its pearl-and-gold embroidery. Blaze’s new boots felt wonderful upon her feet. There was more than enough room for her big toe, which was overlarge. Heartha fitted a small flat bonnet with a jaunty white feather upon her lady’s head, handing her a pair of white leather riding gloves embroidered with gold and pearls, as was the bodice of her gown.

  “Now, there’s a coach if you gets tired, my lady,” Heartha said. “No need to exhaust yourself before we gets to RiversEdge.”

  Below, her family had gathered to bid her farewell. Gently she hugged Gavin and Glenna. “Take good care of that gown,” she cautioned Vanora. “Remember that Glenna can wear it when you’ve outgrown it. I will see you have another. I promise.”

  “I want one the color of your riding outfit,” said Vanora boldly. “Dark blue should suit me well.”

  “We shall miss you, dearest Blaze,” chorused Larke and Linnette. “Come home and visit when you can.”

  “I will,” she promised, kissing them upon their rosy cheeks.

  Delight flung herself at Blaze, hugging her eldest sister hard. “Who will protect me from Bliss now?” she wondered aloud. “Did you know that they have asked me to share their chamber with them? I’m moving in tonight.”

  “Blythe will protect you, though you really need her not. You have always been able to outrun Bliss and her temper,” laughed Blaze, “and aye, I knew, for it was Bliss’s idea.”

  “It was?” Delight was astounded. “Perhaps I am too hard on her.”

  “Be patient with her,” warned Blaze, giving Delight a final hug. “Do not allow your quick tongue to overrule your common sense.”

  Bliss and Blythe stood before her. They were absolutely gorgeous in their sky-blue velvet gowns, which were trimmed with seed pearls. Certainly they were meant for greater marriages than could have been obtained for them before her own marriage to Edmund Wyndham. “You are beautiful,” she said. “I promise to seek the best husbands for you, but any man seeing you as you look today would offer his all to wed with either of you.”

  “Be happy, dearest,” said Blythe, kissing her elder sibling upon the cheek. “I know that you will do your best for us all.”

  “Fine words,” grumbled Bliss. “Fine words, but we shall see. Only time will tell the true tale for us.” Then her sapphire-blue eyes welled with tears which, to Bliss’s mortification, spilled over and ran down her cheeks. “God’s foot!” she swore softly as her scandalized mother rolled her own eyes heavenward.

  “Ohh, Bliss,” said Blaze, trying hard not to laugh. “You have offered me the nicest parting of all. I shall miss you so very much!”

  “Forgive me, my lady, but we must go,” Anthony Wyndham intruded.

  Blaze shot him an unfriendly look. “I must bid my parents farewell, sir. You will wait upon me, like it or no.” She turned to her mother. The two hugged, and in that instant Blaze knew how very much she loved her mother.

  “Now, try to remember all I have taught you, my child,” Lady Rosemary began.

  “Indeed she will! Indeed she will,” said Lord Morgan, understanding Anthony’s impatience. Grasping his eldest child by the shoulders, he turned her about. Giving her a loud kiss upon the cheek, he then gently pushed her out the door of the hall to where the horses were waiting. Before she realized what was happening, Blaze found herself being boosted into her saddle.

  “But, Papa!” she protested.

  “You are a married woman now, Blaze. We love you. We bid you Godspeed, but if
you linger much longer your mother and sisters will begin weeping and wailing. Besides, we must get back to the fields, for Master Garth says it will rain within another day or two. You know it is impossible to harvest and store wet grain. Go home to your husband, daughter.”

  She understood her father better than even he realized. A soft smile touched Blaze’s lips. “Farewell, Papa,” she said quietly. “I love you.” Then, kicking her horse, she moved off away from her family, away from Ashby, away from everything she had ever known; toward a new identity and a new life.

  Part Two

  RIVERSEDGE

  Autumn 1521-January 1525

  Chapter 3

  In her entire life Blaze had never ridden more than a few miles from Ashby Hall. Within an hour the landmarks well known to her disappeared, and the countryside became unfamiliar. Her childhood home was located within clear sight of the Malvern Hills on the east side of the River Wye. They traveled northwest, for RiversEdge was set upon the west bank of the Wye with a view of the Black Mountains. The land was overripe and lush in the September sunshine; the green pastures with their grazing cattle and sheep giving way to greener fields of ripening hops and golden fields of ripening grain. The road wound through ancient orchards of apples ready for the harvest, whose fragrance perfumed the air to the point of excess.

  It was a peaceful land. There was little serious need for the escort of armed men who accompanied them other than the fact that they did the bride honor. Blaze had been given a lovely white mare to ride. Master Anthony rode beside her upon a dappled gray stallion with Heartha behind them upon a fat brown pony. Their pace was easy, but not leisurely, for they had some seventeen miles to go using the roads between Ashby and RiversEdge. They would ford the Wye some four miles below their destination.

  The sun was at its zenith when to Blaze’s relief Anthony Wyndham called a halt to their journey. She was starving, as the marriage ceremony had been in the early morning. She had not eaten before the Mass. After her health had been drunk in the Great Hall she had been dressed and hustled off. No one had thought to offer her some food before her departure on a day’s ride to her new home.