In Bed With A Stranger(51)

There was a clatter of copper pots as the coals were poked and the wine  set to heating. Toby waited for it, carefully balancing the tray as his  feet moved swiftly toward the mistress's chamber. He lifted the heavy  door knocker and let it fall onto the door. It seemed to take a long  time for the heavy panel to open.

"Mulled wine, Mistress."

"Yes, yes. Well don't stand there while it cools."

With wide eyes, Toby scurried into the room, trying not to stare at the  opulent furnishings. To his young eyes, the decorative wood carvings on  the bedpost looked like something from Chaucer.

"Don't forget the soiled tray. Its scent is foul."

Forcing his gaze onto his task, Toby gathered the soiled linens that  were lying on the table. Dropping them on the soiled morning tray, he  made sure to take the heavy silver goblet, too, so that it might be  cleaned. He was just picking up the tray when he spied the small glass  jar sitting near a book. It was full of spices and clearly belonged in  the kitchen. He sat it among the used napkins.

A low moan drifted in from behind the tapestry curtain. He looked up with curiosity, wondering who was in the solar.

There was a crash from behind him. The mistress frowned as her mulled  wine lay spilt on the floor. She glared at it for a long moment before  waving her hand.

"Clean it up and bring me some more."

Using the linens, Toby mopped up the wine before retreating from the  chamber. He sucked in a deep breath, grateful to be on his way back to  the kitchens. The mistress's chamber might be full of beautiful things,  but it sure made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

His mother was missing when he returned to the kitchen. Molly looked up as he brought her both silver goblets.

"The mistress wants more mulled wine."

Molly shrugged, reaching for the wine. "Stay and wait for it to heat. You'll have to take it back. I must mind the porridge."

"Can I watch the knights practice while I wait?" Toby shifted from side to side as he waited to be granted permission.

"Aye."

Toby skipped toward the window, a happy smile brightening his face.

While the wine heated, Molly cleaned the tray, pausing when she found  the small glass jar. Pulling the stopper from it, she sniffed it. The  odor wasn't pleasing, but clearly the mistress had sent it with Toby to  have it mulled in her wine. Why else would she want more wine so soon?  Dumping it into a cloth, she gave it a twist and sat it in the warming  wine. It was some manner of relief from the ache that had kept the  mistress in her chamber for the last week. It must be nice to have the  silver to pay for such comforts.         

     



 

"Toby, the wine is ready."

The boy shuffled his feet but left the window to take the tray to his  mistress. She answered the door quickly this time, waving him in.

"Leave it and go."

Toby did her bidding gladly, skipping down the hallway once the task was finished.



"Mother? Hurry. I think it's time." Mary sounded terrified, her voice  echoing from the second chamber. She stood in the doorway, holding the  heavy curtain up.

"Quiet down. If anyone sees you, this has all been for naught." Philipa  paused and took a long sip from the goblet. The warm wine soothed her  nerves so she took a few more, draining most of it.

"Mother."

"Do compose yourself, Mary. You aren't doing any of the work. Try to  have a bit of dignity." She passed the silver goblet off to her  daughter. "Have some wine. It will calm you."

Mary frowned at her mother's words but lifted the goblet to her lips. The wine was warm and she greedily drank every last drop.

"Good. Now where is this babe?" Moving through the doorway, she heard  the muffled groans as Anne labored. Ivy crouched near her daughter as  she sat in the birthing chair. A rag was between her teeth to keep her  screams from reaching beyond the chamber.

"It's coming, dear, push. Push hard."

Philipa watched as the baby slid from its mother. The tiny body  glistened as Ivy gripped it by the ankles patting the back firmly. With a  shake the arms began to flail and the chest filled with air. A thin  wail filled the chamber.

"Turn it around, woman."

Ivy cast a frown toward Philipa as she cradled the child's neck and held  it up so that Philipa might see the sex. A small penis was well formed  between the baby's legs. The child turned red as he squalled.

"Well done. You see? Everything is in order and now I am pleased."

Anne was leaning back on the birthing chair, her body shivering. Philipa  turned her back on them. She smiled at Mary, fixing the hair that had  escaped from its braid.

"There now, dear, you see? Everything is just as I told you it would be."

Mary smiled. "You are always so right, mother."

"A few more days and you may then present your son to everyone. We'll write to your father."

Mary smiled. "And I may return to court?"

"Yes, my dear. It is important that that Scot doesn't catch up with you  for many months. You will have to be clever and avoid him." Philipa  waved a hand in the air. "I doubt he'll ride so far into England."

She did not know Brodick.

Anne cradled her son. Even if Philipa's scheme was foul, the product was beautiful.

"Riders ho!"

The Captain of the Guard cried out as the bells on the walls began  ringing. Philipa lost her smug, satisfied look as she rushed toward the  window.

"Christ's wounds! It's your husband."

The McJames' banners flew proudly in the afternoon sunlight, bearing  down on the gate. The earl himself was leading the pack of retainers,  five times the number that had arrived to fetch Mary.

"Stay here, Mary. Let no one see you or that baby."

Philipa grabbed a handful of her skirts and ran from the room. Anne  stared at the empty doorframe. Not once had she ever seen the mistress  of Warwickshire run.

Mary wrung her hands. "Give me the baby."

Ivy grabbed a broom. "Get out."

"You forget your place, slut."

Ivy turned the broom with a practiced hand, and swung it in a circle using both hands.

"Oh, I know my place. I know how to beat you senseless with this broom if you don't get away from my daughter and grandchild."

Ivy stamped the broom on the hard stone floor. Mary flinched at the sound, her face turning pale.

"Stupid girl." Ivy shook her head. "Your father should never have  allowed you to be raised so weak. I am going to have a word with that  man when he returns. You may count on it."

Mary's eyes grew large and round. Ivy pointed at her. "Stay out of my  way, girl. There is women's work to see to. I've no time for your  childish ways."

Mary looked shamed for the first time that Anne could recall, her cheeks red and her eyes glittering with unshed tears.         

     



 

Anne shivered but the bells made her heart swell. Her mother wiped her  forehead with a cool cloth. Her son nuzzled against her breast, rooting  about for a nipple. Every muscle twitched and it was an effort to hold  the infant. But she was happy. So pleased that it felt like sunshine was  shining out of her.

She'd given Brodick a son.

There was no greater gift that her love might bestow.

Heavy fatigue pressed down on her as her mother tended to her, cleansing away the last stains of the birth.

"Your husband is here, riding into the courtyard," Ivy whispered, but Mary screeched in outrage.

"My husband. He is my husband. She is a bastard."

Ivy stood up, her temper overriding her good sense. Anne grabbed her mother's wrist, trying to restrain her.

Ivy shook her daughter's hand off. "I'll have none of this. Do you hear?  I've suffered in silence for my entire life, but no more."

Anne smiled at her mother "Well now, he's a fine, healthy boy."

Anne gently hugged the tiny body close to her chest. "Like his father."

"Aye, I see that." Ivy took the baby to the copper basin. She gently  washed him, cupping the water in her hand to pour it over his head. He  didn't cry, but wiggled while making soft cooing sounds. Her mother  finished and wrapped the infant in swaddling so that only his face and  upper arms were free.

She laid him in the cradle before turning to help Anne. Soon she was settled into the bed and Ivy handed the baby to her.

"He'll want your breast, if he's anything like your brothers."

Anne didn't have time to lower her chemise. There was a scurry of feet in the outer room.

"Stop! These are my private chambers. You have no right to invade my  rooms, you … Scots!" Philipa bellowed in outrage as the sounds of  footfalls echoed between the stone walls.

"I'll tell you who has rights, madam. I have the right to see my wife.  Now stand aside or I'll knock ye to the floor. But I will find where ye  have hidden her."

Brodick sounded dangerous, but he also sounded sweeter than any sound  she'd ever heard. Anne clutched her son close, tears easing from her  eyes.

"Brodick! I'm here!"

The curtain was ripped half off the rod as her husband erupted through  the doorway. His face was a mask of fury, his sword in hand. He swept  the room before charging towards her.