Rosemary Morgan took her daughter’s face into her hands and stared at Blaze a long moment before releasing her. The girl was lovely, of that there was no doubt. “You are a very lucky girl,” she began, “
and
you will make a memorable Countess of Langford if you are clever.”
“
Why me?
” demanded Blaze. “How can you possibly pay him a dowry of any kind, let alone the kind of dowry it must take to marry an earl?”
“He will have you without a dowry,” Lady Morgan replied.
“
Why?
” The word was sharp. The tone suspicious.
“Edmund Wyndham was married for eighteen years to a woman who, like our poor Queen Catherine, could not produce a child. At least the king has our Princess Mary, but the Earl of Langford’s only child died shortly after its birth. A birth which killed its mother. He is a wealthy man, Blaze, but he wants children. He already has an heir in the person of his nephew, but he wants his own son. You surely understand that.
“Somewhere, he did not say where, he learned of our family. Of the fact that all my children are living. That they are strong and healthy. Even knowing that we could not afford a dowry, he came to us, and offered to take you for his wife without one. He believes that you can produce healthy children for him even as I have produced them for your father.”
“So the great earl comes to Ashby to buy himself a blooded brood mare, does he? I will not marry him, Mother! I may be poor, but I have my pride. I should sooner be condemned to spinsterhood! How dare this man think that he can buy me? What arrogance!”
“Nay, Blaze, he is not arrogant! He came as a supplicant, and he treated your father with elegance and dignity. His coming is like a miracle. It is your duty as a child of this family to accept gratefully the wonderful opportunity that has been offered you. Do you not see how fortunate you are?”
“I do not see, Mama. Let this earl marry one of the others. Both Blythe and Bliss would kill for such an
opportunity
,” Blaze said scornfully.
“You are the eldest,” stressed her mother. “It is fitting that you be matched first. Besides, Blythe and Bliss are a full year younger than you are. The earl is a mature man, and you are the perfect age both to wed him and to begin bearing his children.”
“No!” said Blaze stubbornly.
Lady Morgan drew a deep breath to still her rising temper. The girl is impossible, she thought. I certainly named her well. “You are not the only one involved in this, Blaze,” she told her difficult daughter. “As part of your marriage settlement the earl has agreed to respectably dower your sisters so that they too may find good husbands.”
“Then I am to be a sacrificial lamb!” Blaze burst out angrily.
Lady Morgan’s temper could no longer be contained, and quickly spilled over. “Blaze,” she said, standing up and placing harsh hands upon her daughter’s slender shoulders, “you will go to the chapel at once! Pray to the Blessed Mother for her forgiveness. Your sin of selfishness, pride, and disobedience to parental will I will not tolerate! May Our Lady’s good, kind heart along with her prayers help cleanse you of these unruly thoughts. Hopefully you will realize how fortunate you are to have been chosen to wed Lord Wyndham. Mayhap you will even allow yourself to consider your younger sisters. To appreciate the fact that their futures rest, may God have mercy on us all, in your two selfish hands!”
“Ohh, that is unfair of you, Mama! To put the responsibility of my sisters’ welfare upon me, and me alone!” Blaze cried defiantly.
“I will not argue further with you, daughter,” said Lady Morgan. “Go to the chapel this minute!”
Blaze ran from the room, her heart pounding with her anger and her frustration. Deliberately ignoring her mother’s orders, she hurried back to the kitchens, stopping halfway down the narrow stone steps to look upon her sisters. Bliss and Blythe were busily overseeing the others, for Larke and Linnette had joined them. The elder set of twins were so beautiful, Blaze thought sadly. It was not right that they be condemned to living their lives here at Ashby without husbands and children of their own. They had only a few years left in which to find husbands. Some would have claimed they were already past their prime. Blaze could not remember ever seeing anyone who could match her sisters’ beauty. They were identical in features but for a tiny beauty mark. On Bliss the dainty mark was located just above the left corner of her mouth, but on Blythe it was above the right corner. Each had pale daffodil-blond hair and sapphire-blue eyes. Their faces, like their eldest sister’s, were heart-shaped with slender little turned-up noses and generous mouths. Their pleasingly curved eyebrows and long sweeping eyelashes were dark enough to show against their fair skins, and did not need the artifice of charcoal. Theirs was a delicate beauty, yet their rosy cheeks bespoke of good health that could not be denied.
The only other blond amongst their siblings was Vanora, whose hair had a silvery gilt look to it. With her dark blue eyes, which in certain light seemed almost black, the little girl, despite a face still round with baby fat, promised to one day be a great beauty. So did their littlest sister, Glenna, with her chestnut-red hair and their mother’s gray-blue eyes.
The rest of the Morgan children were dark-haired. Glenna’s twin brother, Gavin, was his father’s image with his blue eyes and dark chestnut-brown hair. Winsome Delight with identical coloring. The second set of twins, Lark and Linnette, with their dark brown hair and violet-blue eyes so like her own. What future did any of them have without gold, and how could their father provide it with his sheep destroyed? He had never been able to recover financially from that second destruction of his flocks.
With a silent sigh Blaze retraced her steps back up the kitchen stairs to the main floor of the house. Moving with almost reluctant feet, she entered the family’s little chapel. Kneeling at her own little prie-dieu, she gazed up at the statue of Saint Mary, and felt her conscience prick sharply at her pride. The sweet and patient face of the stone saint seemed to reproach her for her rebellious thoughts.
What is wrong with you?
demanded her conscience.
An attractive and wealthy man wishes to wed with you. Why do you behave so wickedly
?
Because I want to be loved for me, myself,
answered her pride.
This man wants me because I can be a healthy brood mare and give him sons. What does he care of me? He did not even stay long enough to greet me!
What nonsense! returned
her conscience.
There is but one reason for the sacrament of marriage. You have been taught it. The purpose of marriage is to have children.
I would be loved!
her pride cried.
Love
, said her conscience,
will come later as you get to know one another. Love, and respect.
I must be loved,
her pride whimpered.
Your parents love one another,
her conscience reminded her.
Why should it be any different for you?
My parents knew one another before their marriage,
her pride reminded her conscience.
An unusual situation,
her conscience retorted.
Marriages are arranged by parents in their offspring’s best interests. Your mother is right! You are incredibly fortunate that this man is willing to have you without a dowry, and what of the sisters you profess to love? Are they not entitled to some measure of happiness? This man has generously offered to dower them so they, too, may find husbands. Are these the actions of a wicked man? Your parents are content. Why can you not be?
“
But where is the love?
” Blaze whispered to herself.
It will come
, said her conscience.
It is bound to come. You will find love, but more important, you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you have, by humbling your overproud spirit and being a good Christian daughter, helped your seven sisters to their own happiness. How can you refuse the earl’s suit?
“I cannot,” Blaze said softly, a tear of self-pity rolling down her face. “Oh, Blessed Mother of Christ, forgive me my disobedience. Help me to be more thoughtful of others,” she prayed. A hand dropped upon her shoulder. Startled, Blaze looked up to see her father. Hastily crossing herself, she arose. “Oh, Papa, I have made Mama very angry,” she confessed, flinging herself into his arms.
Robert Morgan’s arms enfolded his eldest child against him. “I know,” he said gravely, thanking heaven that she could not see the laughter in his eyes. Blaze had never been the easiest of his children. She required a special touch. His wonderful Rosemary! The best of mothers, and so good with all the others, yet she could never quite understand that Blaze needed more than the others. “Your mother tells me that you have refused to accept our decision in this matter of a husband for you. Is this so?”
“I will marry the earl, Papa,” Blaze said softly. “How can I scorn such a generous offer?”
“You cannot,” answered Lord Morgan quietly. He set her back so they might look at one another. “You must trust me in this, Blaze, as you have always trusted me. Lord Wyndham is more than suitable. If the truth were spoken, my dearest, it would say that you are marrying up, for indeed you are. I had not met the man before today, but I have never heard ill spoken of him. His manner is firm and kindly. It is obvious that he loved his first wife despite her inability to give him children, and that he truly mourned her death. I believe he will love you too, Blaze. I believe that you will learn to love him. He will be a good husband. His generosity to you, not to mention to your sisters, speaks well of him. Not only will the dowries he is providing for your sisters aid them in finding husbands, but his connection to them by your marriage will aid us even more. Can you be content to have faith in my decision, my child?”
Blaze nodded. “I did not mean to be so difficult, Papa, it is just that I never thought . . . never expected that I should be wed to so great a lord. I believed if I wed at all it would be to some younger son with no more than I, if that. Is the earl’s home very far from Ashby?”
“RiversEdge is approximately a half-day’s ride from Ashby unless one goes directly across the fields, which the earl did today. His sister was celebrating her birthday, and he wished to be there. It is this sister whose eldest son is the earl’s current heir.”
“They cannot be happy that the earl is remarrying,” said Blaze wisely.
“It is not their decision,” replied Lord Morgan, and taking his daughter’s hand, he led her from the chapel. Together they walked down the corridor into the Great Hall of Ashby where Robert Morgan drew Blaze down next to him onto a settle by the fireplace. “The Langford earldom goes back to King Henry V, my child. The first earl saved that king’s life at the Battle of Agincourt, and was rewarded with a greater title than he already possessed. He was only sixteen at the time. The Wyndhams are long-lived. Lord Edmund’s grandfather lived to be seventy-five years of age, and his father was past seventy when he perished in an epidemic.”
“The earl was his father’s only son?” Blaze inquired.
“Surviving son, my dear, and only offspring of the second earl’s third wife. The family seems to have been racked with difficulties in the matter of producing a strong male line. Now in his thirties and without a direct heir, the earl is very anxious. I’m sure you can see that. As you are an intelligent girl, Blaze, I am equally certain that you understand the earl’s position.”
“He might have at least stayed long enough to meet me,” she answered him irritably.
Lord Morgan smiled at his daughter’s annoyance. Although he understood why the earl had departed once an arrangement was struck between them, he also understood why Blaze felt slighted. “The earl wanted to stay, but he had planned an entertainment in his sister’s honor. They are close despite the disparity in their ages. I know that loving your own sisters as you do, you can understand Lord Wyndham’s motives.”
“Mmmmm,” Blaze considered, and her father laughed indulgently, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. She looked up at him. “What is he like?” she demanded. “Did he leave me no miniature? Did you give him one? Is he content to marry some faceless female? Does he even care?”
“He did leave the choice of a bride to your mother and me, his one proviso being that you didn’t squint,” chuckled Lord Morgan.
“Does he?” She bristled.
“No, Blaze, he does not. He is very well-favored. Tall and fair-skinned with dark brown hair and fine brown-gold eyes. You will find him as pleasant to look upon as he will find you, my dear.”
“When are we to be married, Papa?”
“The thirtieth of September,” he replied.
“
So soon?
I had thought I should have at least until.next spring!” she said.
“The first banns will be cried this Sunday, Blaze.”
“It is barely two months, Papa!”
“The earl has been widowed over a year, my child. He wants a wife now, not several months hence,” Lord Morgan said.
“There is too much to do, Papa! It cannot be done in such a short time!”
“What is there to do?” he questioned her.
“I have no clothing that would be suitable for a bride, let alone a Countess of Langford! Even if Mama and my sisters had the fabrics, we could not sew enough for my trousseau in such a short time.”
“Your trousseau is being made at RiversEdge, Blaze. Everything, including your wedding gown, will be provided for you. The earl has promised to send some of these things ahead of time so you will not be embarrassed before his family when you arrive at your new home.”
“My dower chest! It is but half-filled, Papa! How can I arrive at RiversEdge with an empty dower chest?”
“We will take linens from your sisters’ chests,” said Lady Morgan, entering the hall to join her husband and eldest child.
“Indeed our two chests alone are filled to overflowing,” said Bliss, who with her twin had followed their mother. “You sew much too slowly, Blaze. If you had another five years you could not fill your dower chest.”