Blaze Wyndham (10 page)

The thumb and forefinger of an elegant hand caught her chin and tilted her head up. She found herself staring into a pair of the warmest and kindest brown eyes she had ever seen. The most beautiful voice she had ever heard—a deep and caressing voice—said, “Welcome home, Blaze Wyndham. I am your husband, Edmund.” The eyes twinkled down at her. “I am most anxious to know if I meet with your approval, madam.”

“Oh, yes, my lord!” she burst out, the relief in her voice very evident. Then she blushed, realizing how her words must sound to him, but Edmund Wyndham laughed.

“It only dawned upon me this morning as I awoke that although I had been most happy to carry away from Ashby a miniature of you, you had no possible idea of what I might look like because I thoughtlessly neglected to send you a miniature. I hope you will forgive me, Blaze. I promise I shall make up for that neglect if you will but let me.”

Again she blushed. Did his words hold a deeper meaning than they appeared to, or was she simply imagining it? Seeing her confusion, Edmund Wyndham tucked her small hand within the safety of his, and led his bride into the house. She was very charming, he thought. He realized that he was surprised by her complete innocence, but then, should he be? His single visit to Ashby had told him the complete and utter isolation of the Morgans’ life.

As for Blaze, she was greatly relieved to have a moment to recover her poise. She could not yet believe her good fortune. When she had hidden with her sisters behind that hedge at Ashby and spied upon Lord Wyndham and her father, she had not really been able to see him, nor had it even mattered at the time. Then she had learned her fate, and she could not for the life of her remember any of the earl’s features. Now she was delighted to discover that she was married to an extremely handsome man. How envious Bliss would be if she but knew!

She must write to her sisters! Write and tell them that her husband was as tall as Lord Anthony. That his hair was a dark brown, and that his eyes were the warm color of sherry wine. Curiously she gazed down at the hand holding hers. It was not an overly big hand, but large, the fingers long with well-shaped almost square nails. He was dressed in black velvet with a doublet that was heavily encrusted with jewels. The dark fabric made his fair skin even fairer.

He led her into the Great Hall of RiversEdge, a marvelous room with a soaring ceiling and carved beams that were gilded with a scrolled design. There were four huge fireplaces, all burning fragrant cherry wood, and beautiful windows which lined both sides of the hall high up. Through those windows that faced west could be seen the beginning of sunset. The high board was carved beautifully of golden oak. Behind it, centered, were two thronelike high-backed chairs. The room was filled with servants.

“I know how tired you must be, Blaze,” the beautiful voice said in a low, intimate tone meant just for her, “but can you compose yourself just enough to greet your servants, my dear?”

“Yes, my lord,” she answered him softly, thinking: If you asked me to fly to the moon right at this minute, I believe that I could. Was there another man alive so thoughtful and kind? She had been so afraid that he would be like his arrogant and mocking nephew.

The next few minutes passed, and it was as if she were within her own body looking out at all that happened about her. She greeted all of the house servants and the headmen of the outdoor hierarchy graciously, smiling, and with a kind word for each. Her mother, she thought, would have been proud of her, for she hid her real feelings well. All she wanted to do was to be alone with this man with the marvelous voice. To learn more about him, to please him. Yet she stood straight, doing her duty as the new Countess of Langford, until the last servant had gone his or her way.

“That was well done,” the earl approved, to her intense delight, when they were once more alone in the Great Hall. “You are tired, I can see. Let me take you to your apartments, my dear. When you have bathed and are comfortable, I have arranged for us to have supper within your chambers if that pleases you.”

“Oh, yes, I should like that very much,” Blaze told him. “It was just about this time yesterday afternoon that I learned I was to come to you today. It has all happened so quickly that I can scarcely believe that I am here myself.”

Edmund Wyndham smiled at her ingenuousness. “I realize,” he said, “that having our wedding date changed so precipitously must have been a shock, but I am certain that Tony explained to you and your parents the pressing reasons for it. You came through Michaelschurch and Wyeton, and you could see yourself the happiness that your arrival has generated. The events of this summer have frightened my people. There were those old and superstitious goodwives who claimed that someone had put the evil eye upon Langford, her master, and its people. It was necessary that I counteract such rumors as quickly as possible. I would not have stolen your wedding day from you except for those circumstances. I shall make it up to you, however, Blaze Wyndham. That I promise you.”

They had walked from the Great Hall while he was speaking, and he had led her up a wide staircase and down a wide hallway that was lined with windows on one side. Stopping before a dark oak door and turning the brass handle on the door, the earl flung it wide. Then to her complete surprise he picked her up and carried her over the threshold into the room. When he placed her back upon her feet Blaze was not quite certain that she was going to be able to stand, for her legs were suddenly wobbly.

“I will leave you in Heartha’s capable hands,” he said quietly. “When you are ready to receive me, you have but to send for me.” Taking her by the shoulders, he placed a gentle kiss upon her brow, and turning, left her.

Blaze stood there rooted to the floor, staring at the door which had closed behind him. She should get down on her knees and thank the Blessed Mother for providing her with such a wonderful and kind husband. She almost laughed aloud to think of how reticent she had been about this marriage. Ohh, if only he would love her! she thought. She believed she was already falling in love with him.

“My lady.” Heartha lightly touched her shoulder.

Blaze looked up and laughed softly. “I think I have been moonstruck,” she said in gentle self-mockery.

“We all want you to feel that way about
him
,” said the tiring woman quietly. “He is such a good man, my lady, yet his luck these last few years has not been good. We all believe that you will bring him good fortune as well as healthy children. Come now, your bath is ready for you.”

For the first time since she had entered the house, Blaze concentrated upon her surroundings. The receiving room in which she stood was paneled in linenfold paneling. Upon the well-polished wide board floors was a beautiful red-and-blue wool carpet such as she had never seen. At Ashby the hall floor was covered with herbs and rushes, and the bedchamber floors were bare except in deep winter, when they had sheepskins upon the cold boards. The lead-paned casement windows were hung with French-blue velvet draperies. The furniture was carved and polished oak, and upon a long table was a pottery bowl filled with pink roses. A cheerful fire burned in the fireplace.

Blaze had never seen such a lovely room, but she had scarce time to admire it, for Heartha was leading her into her bedchamber. Blaze’s mouth made a small O as she viewed this second room. Like the receiving room, the bedchamber walls were linenfold panels and the windows velvet-draped. The great oak bedstead was also hung with the soft blue velvet. The bedchamber had a fireplace too that even now warmed the room. There were several carved oak chests about the chamber, and small tables set on either side of the bed. Upon each was a silver candlestick with a pure beeswax taper.

“The garderobe and your dressing room are through here,” said Heartha, pointing to a paneled door.

Blaze was stunned. Her parents’ bedchamber wasn’t this big. “Was this Lady Catherine’s room?” she asked her servant.

“Of course, my lady. By tradition this is the countess’s apartment, but my lord has had it redecorated for you. In Lady Catherine’s time the hangings were crimson, for ’twas her favorite color, and it suited her; but come, my lady, your tub will grow chill if we do not hurry.”

Blaze looked to see a huge oak tub sitting before the fireplace. From it arose a fragrant steam. Their tub at home was half the size, but it seemed that everything here was larger. She allowed Heartha to undress her and bathe her. The tub water was oily and smelt of violets. When she was dry Heartha came forward to dress her in a cream-colored silk chamber robe. As she fastened the last of the small pearl buttons, Blaze glanced through the windows and saw that night had fallen. Heartha drew her over to the pier glass so she might see herself.

“Are you not beautiful, my lady?” the tiring woman said. “You cannot fail but please his lordship.”

It was then that Blaze realized that it was her wedding night. There had been no time to think today. So much had happened. Now suddenly she was to be faced by a bridegroom anxious to claim his rights, and equally eager to sire a child upon her. She gazed into the mirror and because she was no fool she saw a face and form created to tempt the strongest man. She saw a girl who stood no taller than five feet, three inches and whose clinging robe with its deep V neckline offered an enticing view of firm young breasts. Her brown-gold hair was loose and fluffy about her face, and poured down her back as soft as the silk against which it lay. She trembled, then started nervously at the knock upon the door.

A pretty maidservant popped her head around the door, saying, “Excuse me, m’lady, but Cook wants to know if you are ready for supper to be served.”

Before she might reply, Heartha did so for her. “Of course she’s ready, lass! Send the footmen quickly to remove that tub before his lordship comes. Hurry up now, girl!”

Blaze watched in amazement as the footmen, eyes politely averted, hurried into the room to remove the tub, while through the door between her receiving room and her bedchamber she could see the maidservants setting up a table with snow-white linen and a silver candelabrum.

“Shall I send for his lordship now, my lady?” Heartha asked.

For a moment she hesitated, but then Blaze nodded. She had no excuse for denying him. It would certainly cause a scandal should she do so. She kept trying to remember what it was her mother had told her, but it kept getting mixed up with what her little sister had seen and reported upon to them all. She was becoming more frightened as each moment passed.

How could she give herself to this stranger, no matter how kindly he was? She wanted to know him better. Right now she knew nothing of him but his name. She didn’t even know his birthdate, or if he liked music, or what his favorite food was. Suddenly she realized she was alone, and when a door well hidden in her bedroom paneling swung open, she almost screamed in her fright. Edmund Wyndham stepped into the room. He was wearing a quilted gown of dark green velvet.

“Blaze, what is it? You look positively terrified,” he said, his voice rich with concern.

“I ... I did n-not expect y-y-you to en-enter quite that w-way,” she managed to stammer.

“The door connects my bedchamber with yours,” he explained. “It is not necessary that our comings and goings be public knowledge.”

“Oh.” Did she look as great a fool as she felt?

He moved to take her hand in his, leading her into the other room, where their supper awaited them at the table before the fireplace.

“You must be quite hungry,” the earl said. “Tony told me that you stopped only briefly just after the noon hour for a small repast that your cook at Ashby packed. You will find the cook here at RiversEdge an artist of the first rank. Was your journey a pleasant one?”

“Aye, my lord, it was. The countryside is so beautiful between Ashby and RiversEdge. I have never seen it before, nor the river this far north.”

He smiled, and seated her at their supper table. “Tonight,” the earl said, “I shall serve you, my lady.” He walked to the sideboard, and taking a plate, filled it, pausing before each covered dish to consider before lifting the lid from it. When he set her plate before her, Blaze saw that she had a slice of delicate pink salmon set upon a bed of cress, a slice of breast and the wing of a capon that had been prepared with lemon-ginger sauce, a baby lamb chop, and some pale leafy greens that had been braised in white wine. There was a hot loaf upon the table, a silver crock of sweet butter, and two cheeses—a hard, sharp golden one and a soft French Brie with which Blaze was unfamiliar.

The earl had filled two plates for himself. Upon one were at least a dozen open shells containing raw oysters, and upon the other was a large slab of beef, the leg and thigh of the capon, three chops, and some of the braised lettuce. Before sitting, Edmund Wyndham poured a fruity, dark red wine into the chased-silver goblets by each place. Seating himself opposite her, he cut two slices from the loaf and gave her one.

“Have you ever been away from Ashby, Blaze?” he asked her.

“Nay, my lord. No more than a few miles. On my twelfth birthday I asked to go to Hereford to see the cathedral. The trip was planned, but alas my younger sisters all came down with some complaint of the belly and running bowels, so we never went.” She shrugged, and bit into the capon wing.

The earl wolfed down his oysters, then said, “When you are settled and comfortable here at RiversEdge, perhaps you would like to have your sisters for a visit.”

“Ohh, yes, my lord!” Her very look lightened, and he suddenly realized that she was afraid. “Ohh, I should like that very much! I miss them already. We never thought to be separated from one another even in marriage, for of course none of us ever thought to make such a fine marriage.” Her words tumbled out hurriedly as her lovely violet-blue eyes looked directly at him, rendering him breathless with her beauty. “How can I thank you for your kindness, my lord?” she continued. “You have become a fairy godfather to us all by first making me your wife and then dowering my sisters so that they might make good matches also. I shall endeavor to be the best of wives to you, my lord, and surely God will bless us with the sons you desire!”