A Love for All Time (90 page)

“Come, father,” he said. “The day is waning, and we’ve a bit of a ride home.” Taking the old man by the arm he began to lead him off.

“I want my horses,” Aidan called after them, and her uncle turned.

“We brought them with us, but if I give them back to ye now some of our men will have to walk all the way back to Ballycoille.”

“If I can walk it, uncle, then yer men can. Leave my animals in Lord Glin’s stables.”

“Yer a hard woman, Aidan St. Michael,” he said.

“ ’Tis the Irish in me, uncle,” she answered him, and then she watched coldly as he led her grandfather from the Great Hall of Glinshannon. Rogan FitzGerald’s shoulders were slumped, and his head was low.

“Farewell,
grandfather,
” she called after him, but though he hesitated a moment, he did not turn instead disappearing through the doors of the hall, and out of her sight.

With the FitzGeralds went the tension that had filled the half. Henry Sturminster, Lord Glin, smiled at his guests, and said, “Ye’ll all stay the night, of course.”

They nodded.

“Lord Glin’s chef is a great man,” Aidan said reverently. “Having had one meal at his hands, my mouth waters for the next.”

“I do not understand how ye can be hungry again after that large meal ye put away this morning,” said Lord Glin admiringly.

“Aidan has a most prodigious appetite,” said her husband with a proud smile, “and she never gains a pound.”

The servants had now reentered the hall, and were bustling about in preparation for the evening meal. Large goblets of wine were passed to them, and as they stood by the fire warming themselves, for the summer’s day was chilled now that the storm had passed, Lord Glin said, “How fortunate, my lord bishop, that ye knew that Father Bede is still a recognized priest of the church.”

“I don’t know,” said Michael O’Malley quietly, and his bright blue eyes were twinkling mischievously in his ruddy face.

Lord Glin’s jaw dropped open in surprise, and he gasped, “But ye said . . .”

“I know precisely what I said, and I shall give myself a most severe penance for the falsehood, I assure ye, my lord. However, my apparent knowledge did serve to solve our problem, didn’t it? Rogan and Eamon FitzGerald are, with their men, on their way back to Ballycoille, and out of my brother and Aidan’s life forever. When my brother went to England with my sister six years ago he made his choice with regards to his loyalties, and to how he would live his life. As our father’s youngest child there was nothing for him here in Ireland, and I cannot disagree with his choices.

“For now Elizabeth Tudor is sovereign of England, Ireland, and Wales. Conn has given her his devotion, and having done so will not waver in his allegiance. He served her in her personal guard, he accepted her choice of a wife. Conn O’Malley, yer pardon, brother, Conn St. Michael, Lord Bliss, is a staunch queen’s man, and his English-born wife is equally loyal to their queen. Their marriage in that queen’s presence by her own cleric in her consecrated chapel is valid to them, and to all of the queen’s loyal subjects. It would take months to straighten out this damn thing, and so I have taken the solution upon myself.

“I know, however, that Conn’s mother as well as myself would be greatly relieved in our own minds if my brother and his wife would consent to have me remarry them in the faith into which they were born. There could never be any doubts then, could there?”

“We are married, Michael,” said Conn stubbornly.

“I know that,” returned his elder brother, “and in all probability that marriage is indeed valid in the eyes of Holy Mother Church, Conn, but so there can be no doubts ever again cast upon the union between ye and Aidan, indulge me in this small request, brother.”

“Why not, Conn?” said Aidan laughingly. “After all we have only just made a new beginning of sorts, haven’t we?”

“I consider our marriage at Greenwich valid,” he said. “I have never once considered that it might not be.”

“Nor I, my love, but what harm can this do, Conn?”

He took her oval face in his hands, and looked deep into her silvery eyes. “It would please ye?”

“It would please yer mother,” she answered him with a smile, “and since we are so near to Innisfana, Conn, it seems a shame to me not to bring Valentina to see her grandmother. I want yer mother content with us, Conn. If this will do it, then I am for it. I do not doubt our marriage those two and a half years past, but I want no slur cast upon our union again by anyone. The future of our sons depends upon it.”

He touched her lips lightly with his own, and then looking at Michael he said, “All right, but do it now, here before the fire!”

“Before all the servants who will wonder what it is about, and gossip,” said Michael O’Malley. “I think not, Conn. Surely ye don’t want to compromise my position as a churchman?”

“Come with me,” said Lord Glin before another word could be said by the brothers.

They followed him from the Great Hall of the castle, and down a broad corridor to its end. Opening the double doors before him Lord Glin led them into a small chapel. Before them was a carved and gilded wooden altar with an exquisitely embroidered linen cloth upon it. Lord Glin moved up to the altar, and lit the golden candelabra with a taper he had dipped into the vigil light. The beeswax candles cast a soft glow over the room which was already lit with the light of the setting sun which came through the crimson, sapphire-blue, gold, emerald-green, and amethyst colored stained-glass windows behind and on either side of the altar.

Michael O’Malley knelt before the altar to pray. Then arising he turned to face his brother, and Aidan. Lord Glin remained as witness to the sacrament. Taking a deep breath the bishop began in his musical voice, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this Man, and this Woman in Holy Matrimony. . . .”

“I
f they don’t stop all that banging and hammering soon,” said Aidan St. Michael irritably, “I shall scream.”

“The house needed to be enlarged,” said Skye. “None of those bedchambers is really fit to house children. Valentina is already so adventurous at a year that I live in terror that she will fall down the staircase. She is always escaping Nan’s vigilance.”

“Only because of Nan’s interest in Harry Beal,” chuckled Aidan. “I saw that coming before we even left Innisfana. The rumor is that they are hoping to marry at Michaelmas if they can obtain our permission, and God knows I am willing enough. Nan deserves a bit of happiness.”

“I like my servants married,” said Skye. “It settles them.”

“It settles all of us,” said Aidan with a laugh, “and some of us more than others,” she concluded patting her very swollen belly. “Oh, Skye, do ye think the new wing will be done before the baby is born?”

“Ye’ve another month or so to go,” said Skye comfortingly.

“I don’t know,” said Aidan. “Look at me! I’m simply enormous with this baby, and I feel as if I’m going to burst at any minute. There is no getting comfortable anymore. I wasn’t this way with Valentina. I am most relieved that yer sister Eibhlin has come early from Ireland to be with me.”

“Ye birthed Valentina easily enough without her,” Skye soothed.

“This is different,” said Aidan firmly. “This is very different.”

“Ye knew that Valentina was a girl,” said Skye trying to lighten her sister-in-law’s mood. “Can ye tell about this babe?”

“That’s another odd thing,” said Aidan. “I don’t really know this time. Sometimes I see a boy, and other times ’tis another lass.” She attempted to gingerly shift her position, but her bulk made it almost impossible, and with a sound of irritation she flung the tiny shirt she had been sewing aside, and pulled herself into a standing position. “I am going to go and lie down, Skye,” she said. “ ’Tis the only time now that I can get half comfortable!”

“Go along,” said Skye sympathetically. She had borne eight children of her own, and she knew how difficult these last weeks of a confinement could be. She watched Aidan waddle from the room, and for a moment she almost envied her brother’s wife. Her youngest child, Velvet de Marisco, would be eight years old in just two weeks; and seeing Aidan so full with life, so wonderfully fertile, Skye longed for just one more child. If only she might have given Adam a son, but Velvet’s birth had been an incredible miracle for them, and she knew she could ask God for no more. This marriage was the happiest, the most peaceful, the most contented match she had had, and she knew that she and Adam would live on together until death parted them; but no. Death would only be a temporary parting for them. They would always be together even into eternity.

“Yer deep in thought,” said Eibhlin O’Malley as she came into the cheerful hall, her black robes swirling about her. “ ’Tis a lovely day, and Aidan’s gardens are wonderful.”

“I was thinking I wished I could have another child,” said Skye honestly.

“
What?
At yer age? Yer forty!”

“I don’t need to be reminded of my age, Eibhlin,” laughed Skye, “and besides ’tis impossible anyhow. Still, I cannot help but envy Aidan the coming child.”

Eibhlin plunked herself into the chair that Aidan had so recently vacated, and said, “For a woman with a head for business, ye’ve a soft heart for children, Skye. Ye’ve done well by them all too for all yer not a conventional mother.”

“ ’Tis only what Da drummed into me all those years ago, Eibhlin. Family first! Family always! I’ve lived my life by that creed for all my
adventures
.” She chuckled. “They haven’t turned out so badly either, have they, my seven babies with their five fathers?”

Eibhlin smiled at her younger sister, and the smile relieved the severity of her dark religious habit. “Out of all Da’s bairns we four, ye, and me, and Michael and Conn were the odd ones. Michael insisting upon the priesthood despite being Da’s eldest son and heir. Me with my doctoring, and ye and Conn with yer adventuring. I wonder what the next generation will turn out to be like. I hope that I’ll be here to see it.”

“I think we’ll all live to ripe old ages,” said Skye. “One reason we were never like the others was that we were always questioning, always seeking, and Eibhlin, I believe we still are. As for the next generation, children never really turn out to be like their parents. They have their own fates to find and to follow.”

“How did ye get so wise, sister mine?” Eibhlin smiled.

“By living life to the fullest,” came the reply.

“Excuse me, m’lady.” Mag was suddenly by Skye’s side.

“Yes, Mag?”

“Mistress Aidan isn’t feeling very well. I can’t be certain, but I think she may be getting ready to have the baby.”

Eibhlin frowned. “ ’Tis a bit too early yet,” she said, and then she stood up. “Come along, Skye, and let us see what it is that is troubling Aidan.”

The two women followed Mag from the hall and up the stairs to the master chamber. There Aidan, her pretty face beaded with moisture, lay upon her bed, looking very uncomfortable. Eibhlin hurried over to her patient, and did a cursory examination.

“How do ye feel?” she demanded of her sister-in-law.

“Like I felt before I went into labor with Valentina,” came the nervous reply. “It’s too soon, Eibhlin, isn’t it? This baby is not due for several more weeks.”

“Babies come when they choose to come, Aidan, not when we say that they should,” chuckled Eibhlin. “If the bairn decides to be born now, ’tis a bit early, but it should be all right. It might be a bit smaller, but if its lungs are good then we’ll have no problems. Besides, did ye and Conn ever consider that ye might have miscalculated? Get up now, and walk about a bit. The whole problem might simply be that ye’ve a cramp from lying in one position.” She helped Aidan to her feet, and together they walked about the room.

Aidan, however, sensed that her hour had come, and that instinct was shortly borne out when without warning her water broke, and gushed down her legs to the carpet. “God’s nightshirt!” she swore. “Mag, get the girls to mop the rug lest it be ruined.” She turned to Eibhlin and Skye. “I think I’m going to have a baby,” she said wryly. “Mag, send for my lord.”

At Eibhlin’s suggestion Aidan preferred to move about the room for the time being. She felt no pain at all at this time, and her cheerful attitude allowed Eibhlin to prepare for the imminent birth. A large, rectangular oak table was brought into the room to be set up as a birthing table. On Eibhlin’s instructions it was padded with cotton quilts. The windows were opened to allow fresh air into the room on this bright and warm spring day, for unlike so many others, Eibhlin did not believe in delivering her patients in a gloomy atmosphere. A fire was carefully tended in the fireplace, and kettles of water hung from the iron arm over the flames. On another nearby table Eibhlin laid out clean cloths, and her medical instruments should she have need of them.