Two months later
Christmas Day
“That’s right, cover up each and every one of those erotic paintings,” Winter told the servants as they whitewashed the walls in the bedchamber. Nairnie was overseeing the process, inserting comments every so often as to how appalling it was – although she kept looking at the figures on the walls before they disappeared.
There came a knock at the partially open door and Winter turned to see Rock standing there.
“My lady, this was just delivered to you from a foreign tradesman on the docks,” he said, holding up a burlap bag.
“Oh, good, it’s here!” She rushed over and took the bag from the squire.
“It is very heavy, my lady. Can I ask what it is?”
“Aye, I’d like to know, too,” said Martin, walking into the room. He looked up in surprise to see the servants painting over his walls around the bed. “Winter? What are you doing? Do you know how much those walls cost me to get them painted in the first place?”
“It’s for a good purpose,” she said.
“You’d better have a good explanation,” he warned her.
With her hand on her stomach, she looked up and smiled. “I don’t want our child seeing erotic paintings around our bed. Is that a good enough reason?”
“Did you say . . . our child?” he asked, almost choking on the words. The disturbance on his face when he first entered the room, quickly disappeared.
“I did. I just found out I’m pregnant, Martin. We’re going to have a baby!”
Martin whooped in joy, leaning over and kissing her and then picking her up in his arms, twirling her around. She laughed, feeling happier than she ever had in her life.
“Congratulations, my lord and lady,” said Rock. “But do stop spinning the pregnant woman before she retches on me.”
“Lord de Grey, be careful with her,” scolded Nairnie from the other side of the room. “Ye dinna want to harm the bairn before it is born.”
“Oh, sorry,” he said, putting Winter back on her feet. “What a wonderful surprise – especially on Christmas.”
“I have another surprise for you,” Winter told him, taking the bag from Rock and handing it to Martin.
“What is this?” he asked testing the weight of the bag.
“It is your Christmas present, now open it quickly,” she said, anxious for him to see what she’d managed to find for him.
“Mayhap, I should wait until tomorrow.”
“Open it,” she urged him.
“Yes, open it,” echoed Rock. “I am very curious myself since it came from a tradesman from the East.”
“It did, did it?” he asked, a broad smile spreading across his face. He opened the bag and pulled out the hunk of Damascus steel.
“What’s that?” asked Rock with a perplexed look on his face. “Not much of a present. It doesn’t look like anything at all.”
“It’s me fulfilling my promise to my husband,” Winter said. “I told Martin I’d make him another sword from Damascus steel since he gave his to Laird Dunbar as part of our alliance.”
Martin smiled, inspecting the steel. “This is wonderful, Winter, but I don’t want you to be working so hard at the forge now that you are pregnant with our child. It could be dangerous.”
“It’s not dangerous,” she assured him. “But if you feel that way, what if I engage a little help?”
“From who?” he asked.
“Wallace and Josef are planning on returning to Ravenscar, but I’d like to ask them to stay and help me forge the sword.”
“I like that idea, but it’s not enough,” he told her.
“What do you mean?” asked Winter.
“Aye, what does that mean, Lord de Grey?” added Rock, weaving his way in between them.
“Rock, do me a favor and stay out of our private conversation,” grumbled Martin.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was private,” said Rock. “After all, you are talking in front of Nairnie as well as the servants.”
“All right, then stay,” said Martin. “Winter, I was going to suggest that Wallace and Josef stay on as my blacksmiths, right here at Castle Heaton.”
“Oh, that would be perfect,” said Winter.
“Aye, they will like that,” said Rock. “I think it’s a good idea, too.”
“Thanks for your approval, Squire, even though it means nothing to me,” grumbled Martin.
“Martin, I am not sure how Wallace will feel about it,” said Winter. “He is a proud man and is not taking the partial loss of his sight very well. I’m not sure he won’t feel as if this is naught but an act of pity.”
“He’s got a reputation for being one of the best blacksmiths in all England,” said Martin.
“Yes, but that was when he had good sight. That time has passed for him.”
“Nay, I don’t believe it has,” said Martin, pulling something out of the pouch at his side. He held up two identical lenses encircled by metal. Extending from each was a small metal handle. “With your help, we can make a pair of spectacles by riveting these or melding them together in the forge.”
“I don’t understand,” said Rock. “What is that?”
“Look through it,” said Martin, handing one to Rock. The squire held one up to his eye and made a face. “It makes things look bigger.”
“That’s right,” said Martin, taking it back from him. “If Winter can do her magic with them in the forge, Wallace can wear them on his nose and still be able to see well enough to work in the smithy.”
“He will be so excited,” said Winter, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Martin. “That is so kind of you, Husband.”
“You’d better get dressed for the meal, Winter,” said Martin. “Our guests, including all of your family, will be here soon.”
“Aye,” she said. “I am very excited. I can’t wait to tell my family we are going to be parents.”
* * *
The great hall bustled with people not two hours later, as everyone arrived for the Christmas feast. The hall was decorated with hanging balls of holly, evergreen, and mistletoe. There were colorful banners as well as special tapestries hanging on the walls that were used for feast days. Only beeswax candles filled the iron holders today, hanging above their heads. The room was filled with scents of pine and bayberry instead of the stench of the normal tallow candles made of animal fat.
Winter and Martin stood at the door, greeting their guests as they entered. Martin’s falcon flew from his shoulder, landing on a rafter, watching from its perch. Winter’s parents, Ross and Annalyse, had been the first to arrive. They were very excited to hear they were going to be grandparents again.
“Winter,” called out her sisters, Summer and Autumn, who had arrived at the same time. Holding each other’s hand, they ran up and hugged Winter.
No one besides her parents had met Martin yet and Winter couldn’t wait to introduce her husband to the rest of her family.
“We are happy to hear you’ve married!” exclaimed Summer.
“Thank you. This is my husband, Lord Martin de Grey,” she introduced him.
“Are you going to have a second wedding like I did, now that the whole family will be here?” asked Autumn, pushing back a lock of her fire-red hair.
“Nay, we don’t think so,” said Winter, smiling at her husband. “We’d rather take the time to make plans . . . for our baby.”
The girls all squealed with joy and jumped up and down, holding on to each other. Martin shook his head and put a finger in one ear.
Summer’s husband, Lord Warren Mowbray, walked up holding the hand of Summer’s five-year-old son, Dominick, from her previous marriage. Autumn’s husband, Lord Benedict Grenfell, was with him.
“What is all the screaming about?” asked Benedict.
“Winter is pregnant,” said Autumn. “Isn’t that wonderful, Benedict? Now my sister and I will be pregnant together.”
Winter felt sorry for their sister, Summer, who had lost three children. She only had one child now, but it was from her awful marriage to the late, evil baron.
“Autumn, we are being insensitive to Summer,” Winter pointed out.
“Nay, you’re not.” Summer glanced over to her husband.
“You might as well tell them, Summer, because they are going to find out anyway as soon as you remove your cloak,” said Warren.
“All right.” Summer moved her cloak aside, showing off her protruding belly.
“You’re pregnant?” asked Winter in surprise.
“Six months,” Summer told them.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Autumn put her hand on her sister’s stomach, already giving healing energy, even if the baby didn’t need it.
“My wife wanted to keep it a secret until we were sure she wouldn’t miscarry again,” said Warren.
“That’s right,” Summer told them. “I have a good feeling about this baby.” She rubbed her hand over her stomach.
“Dominick is going to have a brother or sister to play with soon.” Warren picked up Dominick, treating him as if he were his own son.
“Who is pregnant?” asked their sister, Spring, entering the room with her one-year-old daughter, Sorcha in her arms. Her husband, Laird Shaw Gordon held their four-year-old son, Blair. Behind him followed two of his children from his first marriage, Colina who was twenty and Leith who was nineteen.
“We’re all pregnant,” said Summer. “The three of us will be having babies together.”
“Four,” answered Spring with a smile. “We are expecting, too.”
Congratulations were exchanged once again.
“I wish I were pregnant,” said Colina with a sigh, taking the baby from Spring.
“Ye’d better no’ get pregnant before ye’re married,” Shaw warned his daughter. “I went through that with yer brathair, Donel and willna do it again.”
“Where is Donel?” asked Winter curiously.
“He’s stayed in the Highlands with his wife and two children,” Leith spoke up. “They’re spending Christmas with the Gunn Clan.”
“When are you getting married, Leith?” asked Winter.
“I’ll marry when winters are as hot as the fires of yer forge,” he said, shaking his head.
“My brathair said he wants to be like Uncle Leod and never get married,” Colina told them.
“Ye’ll get married and soon,” Shaw told his son. “I’m goin’ to betroth ye as soon as we get back to Scotland. And then Colina will follow. I willna have either of ye dyin’ before ye have bairns. That’s what is probably goin’ to happen to my brathair, Leod, if the fool doesna marry soon.”
A scream from the other side of the great hall split the air. Winter turned around to see an enormous raven land on one of the trestle tables right in front of a noblewoman. The bird squawked and hissed and flapped its wings, pecking around atop the table.
“It looks like our brothers have arrived,” said Winter.
“They’re making their grand entrance through the kitchen,” Autumn pointed out.
“Why should we be surprised?” asked Summer. “The triplets always like to make a scene, and Reed spends most his time eating.”
“Excuse us,” said Winter, taking Martin by the arm and pulling him through the great hall.
“Slow down,” said Martin.
“I’m excited for you to meet my triplet brothers,” she told him, not so sure Martin would feel the same way.
“Hades, come back here,” said Rook, entering through the kitchen, carrying his five-year-old son, Blaise, on his back. The little boy laughed, trying to reach up and touch both Rowen and Reed’s hawks that flew into the room over their heads.
“Rook, I’d like you to meet my husband, Lord Martin de Grey,” said Winter proudly. Rook stopped and eyed Martin up and down.
“You’re quite a bit older than my little sister, aren’t you?” he asked.
“A little bit,” said Martin, extending his arm toward him in a friendly gesture.
“You’d better not do anything to hurt her or I’ll personally have your head, de Grey.” Rook reached out and shook Martin’s hand.
“Rook, stop it!” said Winter, hitting him on the arm.
“Oh, we’re beatin’ up on Rook?” asked Reed, walking up with his newborn twin sons, Conall and Dugal - one in each arm. “If I had a free hand, I’d swipe him aside the head, too, just for fun.”
“Hello, I’m Winter’s husband,” said Martin, introducing himself.
“Och, I ken ye,” Reed said, not looking at all happy. “Ye are that man I met at the border. The one who wanted to take off my head.”
“Hush, Reed,” said Rowen, coming to join them. “You are so loud that I can hear you all the way from the kitchen. Winter, I heard the news. Congratulations on your pregnancy as well as your wedding. I’m sorry it took so long for all of us to get here.” Rowen gave Winter a kiss and a hug.
“Thank you,” said Winter, smiling. But her brother, Reed was not.
“Ye got my baby sister pregnant?” Reed asked Martin. “How could ye?”
“Reed, we’re married,” Winter reminded him.
“Congratulations, Winter,” said Reed’s wife, Maggie, walking up, holding the hands of her three-year-old daughter, Morag, and five-year-old daughter, Fia. Her sixteen-year-old brother, Duff, was with her. “Duff, take the girls. I’m afraid Reed is goin’ to drop the bairns.” She reached out and took Conall from Reed.
“I willna drop them, lass,” complained Reed. “After all, I never dropped Duff when he was a child and climbed the riggin’ of the ship with me, did I?”
“Reed, now that I’m older,” said Duff, “I’ll help ye teach the twins to climb the riggin’ as well.”
“Good idea,” said Reed, grabbing a chicken drumstick off the tray of a passing server. Reed was always eating. He took a big bite and looked down to the baby in his arms. “Did ye want some, Dugal?” he asked, holding the drumstick in front of the baby’s mouth.
“Winter, we’ll talk later,” said Maggie. “Reed, get that food away from Dugal. He’s just a bairn.” They left with Reed telling her his boys needed to eat to be big and strong like him.
“Where are your wives and the rest of your families?” Winter asked Rowen and Rook.
“Cordy is in the kitchen with the boys,” said Rowen, speaking of his wife, Cordelia. “Nairnie is spoiling them, giving them tarts before they eat their meals.”
“Callie is there with Willow and Jarin, too,” said Rook speaking of his young daughter and second son. His wife’s name was Calliope, but he liked to call her Callie.
“I still can’t believe you named your children such odd names as Willow and Jarin,” said Rowen, making a face and shaking his head.
“It’s better than rhyming names like with your boys, Will and Phil,” snorted Rook, adjusting Blaise on his back.
“William and Philip,” Rowen said, pronouncing their names slowly as if his brother were daft. “Do those two names sound as if they rhyme to you?”
“Excuse me, but if you’ll all be seated, the Christmas meal is about to start.” Martin thankfully interrupted before Winter’s brothers could cause another scene.
Winter never felt happier as she sat up on the dais with the table extending halfway around the great hall to encompass her entire noble family.
The meal started with a dish of boiled apples and currants sprinkled with cinnamon and ginger. Then came the pickled beets and purslane tossed with pecans and sheep’s cheese. Boiled cabbage was served to those who sat below the salt. Usually, the commoners ate rye or wheat bread, and only the nobles had white bread. But Winter insisted that everyone eat their fill of white bread today since it was Christmas.
Since the weeks leading up to Christmas were days of fasting on mainly fish, everyone was excited to have lots of meat today. The servers brought out platter after platter of pheasant and chicken as well as roasted hare with a brown, spicy gravy. Since Winter didn’t care for hare, Martin made sure also to have an array of other meats. They included venison, the favorite Christmastime barnacle goose, and beef, which was only served to the nobles because it was more expensive.
Between the courses, there was a parade of servers carrying displays of animals made from sugar as well as a blackened boar’s head. None of them were meant to be eaten, but Winter saw Reed eying up the displays while licking his lips.
Salted cod and smoked herring were among the favorite Christmastime dishes, followed by an array of sweetmeats – candied fruits, mince pie and sugared almonds.
Spiced, mulled cider, ale, and white wine flowed freely. Everyone had a wonderful time at the celebration.
When everyone had eaten their fill, the musicians started playing beautiful music on their lutes and harps. Winter and Martin made their way down the dais to mingle with the happy people celebrating this joyous occasion.
“Lord de Grey, I cannot thank you enough,” said Wallace, rushing up with his son, Josef, bowing. “We are so honored that you have asked us to stay on as your blacksmiths right here at Castle Heaton.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Martin dug into his pouch and handed Wallace the spectacles.
“What is this, my lord?” Wallace asked quizzically, inspecting the gift.
“I first saw a pair of spectacles on a monk when my father took me to Italy when I was just a child.”
“Italy,” said his father, overhearing their conversation and walking over to join them. “That’s where I first fell in love with your mother, did you know that, Martin?”
“Nay, Father, I didn’t.”
“She should be here soon for the celebration.” He lifted his chin and looked around the crowded hall.
Winter could see the frustration on Martin’s face. His father never stopped believing his wife and daughters would one day return.
“This is a gift from us to you,” she said, speaking to Wallace. “It will help you to see while working in the forge. Try them on.”
“Just put the spectacles over your nose,” said Martin. “Winter fixed them in the forge. They should stay on your face unless you move too fast.”
“There’s no chance of my father moving too fast,” replied Josef with a chuckle.
“By the rood, they work,” said Wallace, taking them off and putting them on again, looking through them at everything in the room. “It is a miracle!”
“Come, Father.” Josef took him by the arm. “You’d better sit down when you try that or you might fall over.”
“Martin, I want to go talk with Nairnie,” said Winter, taking him across the hall. The old woman had been quiet tonight and Winter was afraid something was troubling her. Nairnie was in front of the fire talking with Rowen.
“Nairnie, you have been quiet tonight,” said Winter as they approached.
The old woman looked up and forced a smile.
“Is something wrong?” Winter put her arm around Nairnie’s shoulder.
“I am just a wee bit blue, lass. There is naught to worry about.” She patted Winter’s arm. “All these bairns are just makin’ me miss my son.”
“Benedict is here,” said Winter.
“Nay, no’ that son. My birth son,” she told him. “I’ll never stop wonderin’ what happened to my Cato.”
“Cato?” Rowen took a drink of ale from his tankard and then lowered the vessel. “That’s even an odder name than what Rook named his children. The only time I’ve ever heard it was about five years ago when I found my missing first mate, Brody.”
“Ye did? Ye heard the name, Cato?” asked the old woman, perking up. “Tell me, did ye meet the man as well?”
“Nay,” he said lifting his tankard for another drink. Nairnie’s tight grip on his arm stopped him.
“Ye’d better tell me more, Rowen.”
“There is nothing more to tell,” Rowen answered. “Brody married a girl named Gwen. Her father died right before I got there. His name was Cato.”
“This Cato. What did he do for a livin’?” asked Nairnie, not letting up with the questions.
“I believe he was a fisherman,” said Rowen. “Or perhaps a pirate.”
Nairnie’s hand flew to her head and her eyes opened wide. Then tears dripped down her cheeks. “It was my Cato. I just had a vision. It is the only vision I have ever had of him since the day his father took him from me when he was just a child.”
“Nairnie, I’m sorry,” said Winter.
“Rowen, why didna ye tell me this years ago?” She swatted at him and he moved his tankard out of the way, spilling ale on the floor.
“How would I have known anything about your son when you never talked about him?” asked Rowen in his defense.
“So, I have a granddaughter,” she said, smiling, looking dazed. “Rowen, ye have to take me to see this girl named Gwen.”
“All right. I can do that,” he said. “But the weather is nasty and to travel to Cornwall will be quite a journey. We’ll have to wait until more favorable conditions.”
“I’ve waited a lifetime, a little longer won’t kill me. I hope.” She walked away with her arm on Rowen’s, firing more questions at him.
“She’s here, she’s here!” came Lambert’s cry from across the hall.
“Who is here?” asked Winter.
“Oh, that’s my daft father again,” said Martin. “Just ignore him. Hopefully, my brother, Jamesson, will calm him down and stop him from talking about my mother returning when we all know it’s never going to happen.”
Martin turned around and stopped in his tracks, unable to move.
Winter spied Lambert greeting a woman and two younger ladies who were wearing traveling cloaks and had just come in out of the snowstorm.
“Martin, who are they?” asked Winter.
“My God, I can’t believe it’s true.” Martin looked as if he’d seen a ghost. “Winter, that is my mother and my sisters, Susanna and Juliana.”
He took off at a run across the hall and Winter followed. They met Jamesson who approached them at the same time.
“Mother?” said Martin in a hoarse whisper.
The woman lowered her hood and smiled at him. “Martin, Jamesson, it has been too long.” She held out her arms, running to them and embracing them both in a hug.
“Juliana, Susanna,” said Martin, greeting his sisters with hugs as well. “Why are you all here and why haven’t you returned before now?”
“I told you they’d come back,” said Lambert, giving his wife a kiss and a hug.
“Father, you shouldn’t be doing that. Her husband might not like it.” Martin looked toward the door, expecting the French baron to come in and cause trouble.
“The baron’s dead, Martin,” said his mother, Amelia, with tears in her eyes. “I made a mistake by marrying him. I know that now and am sorry I ever left my family.”
“We’ve come back to Castle Heaton for good,” said Susanna. Her bright blue eyes complemented her golden hair that was adorned with ribbons of almost every color.
“If Father will let us,” added Juliana, the taller and older of the two sisters at nineteen years of age. Martin’s sisters were both very beautiful.
“Lambert, can you ever forgive me?” asked Amelia.
“There is nothing to forgive,” said Lambert. “I knew you’d come home. I told Martin, but he didn’t believe me.”
“Mother. Father hasn’t been all that well,” explained Martin.
“That’s nonsense!” spat Lambert. “I’ve never felt better.” He pulled his ex-wife into his arms. “Amelia, can you forgive me for what happened to our son, Albert?”
“I know now you weren’t to blame.” Amelia dabbed her sleeve against the tear dripping down her cheek. “I want to start a new life with you. Will you have me back as your wife?”
“You never stopped being my wife as far as I’m concerned,” said Lambert.
A bell dinged from the corner of the room and everyone stepped aside as Martin hurried across the room to his clock that was sitting on the floor in the corner.
“It is midnight,” he said excitedly. “And the clock is still working. It is no longer broken.”
Every cheered, seeing how happy that made Martin.
“It’s all because of you, Winter,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “You fixed things in this family that had been broken for a very long time.”
“I fixed the clock pieces in the forge, but I can’t say I fixed anything in your family, although I am grateful for the credit,” she replied.
“Don’t you see what a good omen this is?” asked Martin, staring at the clock in total fascination. “Time stood still while my sisters and mother were gone, and now it has picked up right where it left off so many years ago.”
“Martin? Who is this lovely woman?” asked Amelia, holding Lambert’s arm and smiling at Winter.
“This is my wife, Mother,” Martin told her. “Her name is Lady Winter. She is pregnant and we will have a child, soon.”
“Oh, I am so happy!” Lady Amelia rushed over to hug them both. “Where did you meet such a fine lady, Martin? Was it through another nobleman, perhaps?”
“Nay, Mother,” said Martin, pulling Winter up against him and kissing her. “I met my wife in a forge.”
“A forge?” His mother wiped away another tear and started laughing. “Oh, Martin, you always could make me laugh.”
“Nay, it is the truth,” said Winter. “I love to forge blades in the smithy. I have been fascinated by it my entire life.”
“She forges the most exquisite swords,” said Martin. “Ever since the moment I met her, my heart warmed. I knew she was someone special. There is no one I know that can compare to her in this entire world.”
“You must really love her, Son,” said his mother. “Through the years, I have never heard you say that about any of your old flames.”
“That’s because I didn’t know what love was until now,” said Martin. “That is . . . until I experienced Winter’s Flame.”