“I cannot believe such a powerful nation could be finished so completely. What I long to see, Linnet, is an end to war and conflict. That is why this peaceful trading project appeals to me so much. There is so much more that is interesting in life than fighting. I heard that a mill has been set up in a place in Kent called Dartford where they are making paper. Imagine that, Linnet! How much easier it will be for us to write to each other. I call that progress—not one side killing more than the other. And something else. I heard of a new plant the other day. It is called saffron—a kind of crocus. Its stigmas make cakes yellow and give them a most distinctive flavour.”
“Have you tried it?”
“I have not seen it yet. It has only just been brought to England. But I intend to at the first opportunity.”
And so we walked and passed our days most happily, for she had brought with her not only the clothes she had made for my baby and new recipes for my tasting, but that sense of comfort which only she could give me.
She brought back memories of my father and young Damask who had so wanted to come with her, and had made a doll for the baby. My father had insisted that messengers be sent as soon as my baby was born with word that I had a fine healthy boy. Edwina, who now had her own little boy and wanted everyone to know of her contentment, sent affectionate messages. It was like seeing them all.
I was very happy during those last days and even the apprehension which must come to a woman who is about to have her first child was stilled by my mother’s presence.
It was not a difficult labour and to my intense delight I gave birth to a healthy boy.
I had never seen Colum so overjoyed. He snatched the baby from my mother and marched round the bedchamber with him. Then he came and stared down at me. I thought I had never been so proud and happy in my life.
I had reached the summit of happiness. I had my beautiful son whom we named Connell and he delighted me in all ways. I marvelled that this perfect creature was my own son and I rejoiced in him doubly when I saw Colum’s pride.
If he had been out, as soon as he returned to the castle he would go to the child’s nursery and satisfy himself that all was well. He would pick up the boy and lift him high in the air. Jennet and I would say that it was no way to treat such a young baby but Connell did not seem to mind. If he were crying—and he had a lusty pair of lungs and a strong temper—he would stop when his father lifted him up even when he was very young. As he grew a little older it was clear that he was fascinated by his father.
I was delighted. I loved to see the joy Colum found in his son.
And I had given him to him. I sometimes marvelled that this boy of ours should have been conceived in such a manner. I think Colum did too. But there was nothing that could have made him happier than the possession of this son.
My mother stayed with me for a month after the child’s birth and then she thought she should return to Lyon Court. She had young Damask to look after. Next time she came, she said, she might bring her, although she thought she was a little young to make the journey. My father had set out on the first of his trading voyages and would be home, she believed, by Christmas. We must all spend Christmas together. It was unthinkable that we, living so near, should not. I must persuade Colum to come to Lyon Court but perhaps because of the baby they should come to us.
We said goodbye. It was September and a touch of autumn already in the air. The mornings were misty and the sea calm but grey. I thought that at Lyon Court they would soon be gathering the apples and pears and I remembered how we had done it the previous year and stored the fruit in the apple room.
I watched her ride away for as long as I could see her. She did not look round. I fancied there were tears in her eyes. But she had confessed herself well pleased with the way in which everything had turned out. I think she was comparing me with herself and perhaps on consideration she could say her marriage had been a happy one.
I wished that we were just a little nearer. If Castle Paling had been as near Lyon Court as Trewynd Grange was how happy I would be! The fifteen miles or so which separated us just made frequent visits not so easy to achieve.
The christening of Connell was a great event. There was a big christening cake and Colum had asked a great many guests from the surrounding country. People whom I had never met before came to the Castle and there was feasting and revelry for two days and nights.
I was living in a dream of happiness and it seemed as if Colum was too. The beauty of the ceremony in the castle’s Norman chapel touched me deeply. My son wore the christening robes which had been worn by several generations of Casvellyns and I wondered whether the husband of Ysella and Nonna had worn them.