Authors: Bertrice Small
The servants were gone now as Adair entered her bathing chamber and climbed into her tub. She washed her dark hair. The water was nicely hot, and the fragrance of the gillyflowers was sweet. She soaped and rinsed herself, taking her time. The sky outside was still dark. To all intents she was already wed. The priest would bless them after the first Mass of the day. And Adair had declared a holiday for the Stanton folk. They would be invited into the hall for a feast. She had no idea what day of the week it was. The month was November, and before Martinmas, she knew, but the rest really didn’t matter. She had a husband, and her life was going to settle into a pattern revolving around the estate. And there would be children. It was a startling thought, but that was why you took a husband, wasn’t it? To have heirs. And she wanted heirs for Stanton.
She stepped from her tub, and Elsbeth swathed her in a large drying cloth. Then, sitting by the fire, Adair rubbed the water from her black hair with a smaller cloth and a brush. Slowly her long hair dried until it was silken and soft. “I will wear it loose,” she said. “There was no real marriage with FitzTudor, and I am yet a maid.”
“I’ve brought the violet damask gown you chose last night,” Elsbeth said, gesturing to the garment now laid upon the bed.
It had a draped neckline, and was cut with fullness from the neckline to its ribbon-trimmed hem. It had long tightly fitted sleeves. The gown was all of one piece, although the Duchess Anne had told Adair that at court a new fashion was just coming into being where skirts, bodices, and sleeves were all separate, allowing a wearer to interchange the pieces. It made it appear as if a lady had more costumes than usual. Here in the country, however, Adair had no time for such fashion. Her wed
ding dress was the best dress she owned, and she had worn it now for two years. The fabric had been a Twelfth Night gift from the king. He always gave his daughters a bolt of fabric as a gift, and she and Bessie had always shared their fabrics with Cicely so they might have larger wardrobes.
Adair ran her hand over the silk damask. “It was the nicest cloth he ever gave me,” she said softly as she drew a clean camise on, and then her gown over it.
“Do you miss the court?” Elsbeth wondered aloud.
“Nay, not at all. I prefer Stanton, and my own company,” Adair said. “I wonder if my sisters think of me. I must write Bessie today. Perhaps I can get a message south before the snows. I’ll send it to Middleham. Uncle Dickon will send it with his own Christmas correspon-dence.” She straightened the gown’s neckline. “Give me a jeweled headband, Nursie. The one with the pearls and little purple gemstones.” She held out her hand, and when Elsbeth had placed the required item in it, Adair fit it upon her head.
“You look beautiful, m’lady,” Elsbeth told her mistress. “Your parents would be very proud that you are being married here, and I know they would approve of Lord Andrew. He’ll be a good earl to us.”
Would he? Adair wondered. She barely knew the man who was now her husband by virtue of the contracts that they had both signed at Middleham several days back. The man to whom she would pledge her troth today before the local priest who lived in Stanton village. Adair barely knew him either. He had not been at Stanton in her childhood. Father Gilbert, he was called, and she could not tell if he was an English borderer or a Scot by his accent. Still, she was grateful to have a priest, even if he was a bit old, and slightly deaf.
Her people were comforted by his presence.
“Time to go down,” Elsbeth said, interrupting her mistress’s train of thought.
“Can you tell me nothing of tonight, Nursie?” Adair asked her servant.
“It isn’t for me to educate you, my lady. Your husband will do that. It would be different if your mother, God assoil her good soul, were alive, but she isn’t, and it isn’t my place. I’ve said what I could, and I’ll say no more.”
“And when the babies come, Nursie,” Adair asked dryly, “can you help then?”
“Then I can help,” Elsbeth replied with a small smile.
“Now, the bridegroom awaits you, m’lady. You don’t want him to think you’re reluctant. You did agree to this marriage before God, Duke Richard, and his good duchess.”
“I did,” Adair agreed. “Let us go down.” Then she looked startled as a knock sounded upon her bedchamber door.
Elsbeth hurried to answer it, and the open door revealed the new earl.
“May I come in a moment?” he inquired of her politely. “Elsbeth may remain.”
Adair beckoned him forward. “Are you so anxious then, my lord, or do you fear I shall cry off?” she asked him.
“You can’t cry off,” he told her. “Legally we are already wed, but I am not fearful you will run away from me as you did the court, Adair. Before we left Middleham I sent word to my grandsire and brother of the match the duke had made between us. They have both just arrived at the hall. I want you to know that I did not invite them. I wanted to have some time for us to live together as man and wife before I inflicted my grandsire upon you,” he said ruefully. “He is a hard old man, and he will, I have not a doubt, have something to say about my taking the Radcliffe name. How he managed to ride over I do not know, as he is quite crippled with his age.
Will you be patient with him?”
“Will you?” Adair asked him.
“Probably not,” Andrew admitted. “You’ve met my older brother, Rob.”
“If they are here then they are here, and there is naught we can do but welcome them as kin,” Adair told him. “Tell me what your sister-in-law is like.”
“Allis is patient and wise. She tolerates my grandsire,”
Andrew said.
“I cannot promise to be patient, and I do not know if I am wise or not, but I will tolerate your grandsire while he is in our house because he is your blood, Andrew. I have come to respect you while you have been at Stanton.”
Andrew took her two hands up, and kissed them.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
Adair colored prettily. Then she said, drawing her hands from his, “If Lord Humphrey and your brother are here we had best go down to greet them together, my lord.”
He nodded, and with Elsbeth following they descended to the great hall below. There they found Lord Humphrey Lynbridge sprawled in a large chair by the fire, a goblet of ale in his fist. It was obvious that the early morning ride had exhausted him quite thoroughly.
Robert Lynbridge stood by his side. His mild blue eyes lit up as Andrew and Adair entered the hall, and he smiled warmly.
Seeing the state her guest was in, Adair went immediately to his side. “My lord, what on earth possessed you to make such a journey? I was given to understand that you were no longer able to ride.”
“The day they can’t get me a-horse is the day they’ll put me in my coffin,” Lord Humphrey growled. “Well, come closer, girl, and let me look at you. Aye, you still look like your mother, and she was passing fair. I see nothing of the Radcliffes in you. What is this foolishness about my grandson taking the Radcliffe name?”
“It was my father’s wish when he became Earl of Stanton. The king agreed. It is not an unheard-of thing, my lord,” Adair said quietly.
“He’s a Lynbridge,” the old man snapped.
“He is the Earl of Stanton, my lord, and Stanton earls are Radcliffes whether it be by choice or by birth,”
Adair retorted.
“Why the hell would King Edward agree to such a thing like that?” Lord Lynbridge demanded of her.
“He agreed because he is my natural father, my lord,”
Adair said. “The man I called my father did not sire me.
Edward of York did. Not that he was any father to me.
John Radcliffe, who loved me as if I were his own flesh, was the father I knew.”
“You’re the king’s brat?” The old man’s bright blue eyes snapped at her. “Well, damn me for a fool! I always wondered what great service John Radcliffe did for the king that he would have an earldom created for him.
But it wasn’t John at all. It was your sweet mother, Jane, who did the king a service.” And Humphrey Lynbridge slapped his knee and laughed heartily. “How long did you know of your paternity, girl?”
“You will speak to me with more courtesy than you have exhibited so far, my lord,” Adair said coldly. “I am not ‘girl’ or ‘lass.’ I am her ladyship the Countess of Stanton. You may address me as such, or because I am wed to your grandson you may call me by my given name, Adair. In future, however, you will not address me as if you were speaking to some servant wench.”
The old man’s mouth fell open with surprise, while beside him Robert Lynbridge swallowed back the laughter that threatened to overcome him. He fixed his gaze upon his younger brother, who was struggling to manage himself as well. “Well, bless my soul,” Lord Lynbridge managed to say, but then he quickly recovered himself. “You have a fine opinion of yourself, my lady,”
he told Adair.
“Indeed, my lord, I do,” she agreed pleasantly.
“So my Andrew’s to be a Radcliffe, and no more a Lynbridge,” he said.
“Aye, he is. But with the name comes an earldom, my
lord, and that is surely worth the name, is it not?” She looked directly down into the old man’s face.
“Perhaps,” Lord Lynbridge said slowly. “Our families have intermarried for centuries. Did you know that?
John Radcliffe’s grandmother was a Lynbridge. Andrew will sire no fewer sons on you, my lady, for changing his name. At least FitzTudor, for that was your first husband’s name, didn’t give you a child.”
“FitzTudor was not allowed the privilege of my bed,”
Adair told him quietly.
“But my grandson will be,” was the reply she
received.
“Aye,” Adair agreed. “He will. Andrew and I have come to know each other. I did not know FitzTudor, and besides, he was a fool. Your grandson is not.”
“He died conveniently,” the old man said slyly.
“He died tragically and foolishly,” Adair retorted. “I did not have him murdered. But I did intend on returning him to his father, and demanding an annulment from the church. The king had no right to send me a husband when I had already said nay.”
“The king needs the borders held close,” Lord Lynbridge replied.
“FitzTudor could not have done it for him, and we have peace,” Adair answered.
“There is never real peace in the borders,” was the dour answer.
“His lordship, the Earl of Stanton, will hold this land,” Adair said.
“Aye, my lady, he will,” Lord Lynbridge agreed. “If there is one thing my grandson Andrew knows how to do well, it is fight. There is no better man in a battle than Andrew Lynbridge.”
“Andrew Radcliffe,” she gently corrected him, and he nodded.
“Aye, Andrew Radcliffe.” Then he looked at her and said, “Robert tells me you keep a good table, my lady. I am famished. Am I to sit here starving?”
“You will have your meal after the Mass, my lord.
While we have been speaking, Father Gilbert and two lads have been setting up the altar on the high board.
While the marriage contract was signed at Middleham, the blessing of our union will be this morning in the presence of my Stanton folk. It is a fortunate coincidence that you have come now. I am glad Andrew’s family will be here to witness our marriage.” She signaled to Albert and said softly, “Have two sturdy men take the old man in the chair and set it before the altar so he may be part of the ceremony.”
“At once, my lady,” Albert said, and went off to do her bidding.
“It is good to see you again, my lady,” Robert Lynbridge said, and he bowed.
“Please, Rob, you will call me by name. You are now my brother, and I have always wanted an older brother.” She gave him her hand, and he kissed it.
“You handled the old man well,” Andrew murmured low. And he slipped a proprietary arm about her waist.
“He’s a bully if allowed.”
“I have never allowed any man to bully me, even the king,” Adair said sweetly.
Rob laughed. “Can it be you have met your match, little brother?” he teased.
“Perhaps Adair has met hers,” Andrew answered with a chuckle.
“We shall see, my lord,” Adair replied.
The altar was now set up upon the high board. Old Lord Lynbridge was carried before it so he might see all. The great hall was filled with the Stanton folk. The Mass began. The candles flickered while the voice of the priest spoke and sang the ancient service. And when he had concluded the Mass, Adair and Andrew came and knelt before him. Father Gilbert blessed the union that had been formally contracted almost two weeks back. Then he raised the couple up and turned them to face the Stanton folk, who cheered heartily,
bringing smiles to the faces of both the bride and the groom.
The candles on the altar were snuffed, and the servants hurried to clear the high board while the Stanton folk brought the trestles and benches from the sides of the hall, where they had been pushed and stacked so the Mass might be said. The house servants began hurrying forth with the food. Bread trenchers of hot oat stirabout were put on all the tables. The oats were sweetened with honey, and bits of apples and pears. Platters of ham and hard-cooked eggs along with freshly baked loaves were brought, with tubs of butter and dishes of honey.
Wooden cups were filled with October ale. At the high board the eggs were poached in cream and marsala wine. There were baked apples with honey and cream as well.
Lord Lynbridge had been carried to the high board and seated to the left of the bride. He said little, but the murmurs from him and the smacking of his lips indicated his approval of the meal set before him. Albert himself saw that the old man’s goblet was never empty, Adair noted, well pleased. After the meal Lord Lynbridge declared that he and Rob would return home that same day, but Adair prevailed upon him to sit by the fire for a brief while. There Humphrey Lynbridge fell asleep.
“It was too much for him,” Adair said. “You and your grandfather must spend the night, Rob. Unless you have pressing business that requires you to leave sooner, I think it better you go in the morning. How long a ride is it to the court?”
“It is several hours’ riding,” Robert Lynbridge answered.