She paused to gloat with a few amusing sounds sent toward her daughter.
"Of course you many persist in this defiance and your child will be born exactly as you were … illegitimate."
"I am here." What else was there to say? Philipa did know what she was speaking of. The world was not forgiving and it was not interested in how things happened. Born out of wedlock, her child would be a bastard.
"Exactly. There is some part of you that is not mesmerized by the lust that Scot no doubt stoked inside you." Now Philipa's expression turned to one of revulsion, her lips thinning with distaste. "I had little doubt that you'd enjoy his carnal demands. You are very much like your mother.
"Still, it is what was needed." Philipa reached for a goblet. She took a long sip, fully expecting everyone to wait on her while she pampered herself.
"You will remain in the solar. That is the only way that we shall be able to make everyone believe that Mary has birthed that child."
"But how long, Mother? I'm tired of being locked up."
Philipa frowned. "Has the world gone mad? Why is there no respect in either of you? Here I am working so diligently to make everyone happy and both of you argue with me."
Mary pouted but she didn't look like a child who knew she was defeated. Instead her face brightened with her desire for retaliation.
"You will have to remain in bed after the child is born, Mary, acting your part as the one recovering from childbirth. It sounds to me as though you might put that time to good use learning to be thankful that you do not have to face the pain of labor. She might die before pushing the child into the world and then we shall have a true mess to sort out."
Mary's nose wrinkled. "You mustn't die, Anne."
"I shall endeavor not to."
Mary shrugged while rolling her eyes, clearly unconcerned with anything more than what she wanted. The child inside Anne kicked as if he understood that he was being fought over. Anne refused to weaken. Her son deserved to be born to the full station he had been conceived under.
May Brodick forgive her.
"What has that woman's spite done to you?"
Ivy Copper entered the small solar, but she only had eyes for Anne. She swept her daughter from head to toe and back to swollen belly.
"Never once might I have suspected that she would do so horrible a deed." Ivy flew across the room, folding Anne into her embrace.
"I have missed you, Mother."
And she had. But the steady beating of her mother's heart was sweet reassurance. Life. That was what she had left Warwickshire to ensure. It was also what she'd brought back with her.
"It was not awful. He is a good man."
Her mother made a low sound. She stepped back to fix Anne with her mother's eye.
"Please tell me that you did not fall into love's trap. Anne, I warned you about it. You are saddled with the burden of having my tender heart. Both you and Bonnie."
"But it's not a burden, Mother."
Ivy sighed, but a smile decorated her lips. She cupped both sides of her daughter's face, tenderness in her voice. "Well, sweet Anne, you have gone and done it now. Placed your hand into the foolishness of love. I can no more scold you for it than stop loving your father. Forgive me for setting such a poor example for you."
"Do you still love him, even now?"
"You mean at my age?" Ivy turned, looking around the solar. "It's the truth that I do."
Her mother surveyed the chamber. It was round because it was the top of one of Warwickshire's towers. There were costly glass pane windows here because it was Philipa's solar. There were three expensive chairs near the windows, their backs and arms ornately carved. A tapestry loom stood threaded and waiting for the lady of the house to work. Anne had never known Philipa to labor at such a task.
She ran a finger over the fine threads. The sunlight danced over them. They almost glowed.
"Silk."
"Aye," her mother confirmed. "Your father has always done right by Philipa. He denies her nothing."
There was a note of envy in her mother's voice. Anne smiled at her.
"He never gave her his love. That has been yours alone."
"Just look what that's done to you." Ivy shook her head. "She used me against you, didn't she?"
"Love is not one-sided, Mother. You have made sacrifices for me as well."
Ivy frowned. "It is not the same, Daughter. This was evil."
Anne sighed. She gazed out the window and realized that it faced north. Out there was Sterling. Her child belonged there with the kilts and long swords strapped to the men's backs. Warwickshire was not home. There was no feeling of warm joy here, no comfort.
"I believe that good has already begun to unravel Philipa's work. I left Bonnie in Scotland, away from Philipa's reach. It was not a bad experience, Mother. If that is sinful, I am guilty."
Ivy only shook her head. "I am not in any position to counsel anyone on the foolishness of love." Her mother laid a hand on her daughter's swollen belly. "Yet I did wish that your first child would be born in less turmoil."
"I returned to make sure of that. This child will take his place even if I must allow Philipa to continue her foul scheme. If I speak against her, my babe will be illegitimate. There is no other way. Just as I could not watch Bonnie leave Sterling with Cameron. She is safe now. Brodick is a good man; he will not allow Cameron to take her."
Anne felt confidence surge through her. She would not fail. There was naught but a curtain hung in the arched doorway between Philipa's room and the solar. Philipa frowned as she strode into the room. Hatred blazed from her eyes when she looked at Ivy.
"I shall have satisfaction for every year that I have been forced to endure the shame of you giving my husband children."
Cameron stepped into the room, grinning.
"Step outside this solar, and you shall face harsh consequences."
Ivy glared at the mistress, her face displaying her contempt for the first time that Anne could recall.
"Wipe that look off your face … slut." Philipa shook a finger at Ivy. "I am mistress here. You are nothing but the lightskirt my husband used to ease his lust."
"I am much more." Ivy raised her chin, defiance filling her voice.
The mistress of Warwickshire didn't appear to know how to deal with the silent refusal of both women to lower themselves. Philipa shook with rage, her face turning red.
"You'd better remember."
The curtain hit the wall when she left. Cameron followed her.
"You owe me for the service of fetching her back, since I don't get the younger one now."
Philipa argued as Ivy shook her head. But Anne smiled. She had diverted one plan and she would succeed in making sure her child was born to his rightful place. She sat at the loom, gently working it to make sure it was oiled. She needed to create. Her hands fairly itched to begin working. Selecting a thread, she began to weave it.
"I shall show you what he looks like, Mother."
Anne worked at the loom, willing her memory of Brodick waiting for her in the spring sun onto the growing tapestry. She did not quit until the last rays of light vanished. At dawn she began again. Her back ached but her son kicked. The only thing that she lamented was not being able to fill the chamber with fresh air. She walked around the room to ease the strain in her lower back, but always returned to her tapestry, determined to finish it.
Determined to see Brodick's face again, even if it was no more than silk.
The days stretched out and Anne didn't really notice how many passed. She was intent on her tapestry, working hard to finish it. Her mother wrote a list and gave it to Mary, who grumbled about fetching things like a servant. Ivy remained firm.
Cameron had to haul a birthing chair into the solar himself. He dropped it with a sneer.
"Women's work."
The man left as Ivy laughed at him. "Selfish man." She ran a hand over the sturdy chair. The seat was cut into a large horseshoe shape. Such a chair allowed the mother to bear down while having her body weight supported by the chair. It was quite a modern convenience.
Lady Mary threw a book across the chamber.
"Mother, there must be some concoction that you can get old Ruth to fix that will make that baby come today."
"Stop whining, Mary. For the final time, you shall wait." Philipa glared at her child. "We have but one chance to secure you in this marriage without risking your life. That child needs to be healthy and strong. Not forced into the world before his time."
Mary pouted.
Philipa's eyes narrowed. She glanced behind her toward the curtain. Seeing that it was smoothly draped, she waved Mary toward her. Her daughter shrugged and closed the space between them.
"Ruth fixed this for me."
Philipa raised her hand and showed a small glass jar. Inside was a jumble of leaves and strips of bark. Philipa placed it on her vanity table.