Part 16 (1/2)
Christmas came. My little Connell was four months old, l.u.s.ty as ever, doing, as Jennet said, all the things a boy ought to do. Showing temper, showing interest, growing plump and healthy. I wouldn't allow him to be swaddled and Colum agreed with me. If he had not I should have prepared to fight against him on this point. I couldn't bear to think of my baby bound up in swaddling clothes for weeks. ”I want his legs to grow long so that he will be as tall as his father,” I said.
We loved to see him kick and his legs were straight as a pine tree.
Such celebrations we had that Christmas. My mother and father came to spend the time with us. With them came Damask, Penn and Romilly. Edwina would not travel because her son being only a few months older than mine was too young, she said. So she and Carlos stayed at Trewynd. Jacko was with the family of his betrothed at Plymouth but he did ride over with the party to see Jennet and stayed with us a night and then went back to Plymouth.
I enjoyed decorating the great hall with holly and ivy and giving orders in the kitchens. There were special pies made for my father's pleasure; there were the coins to put in the cakes and puddings, all with their significance, and of course the silver penny for the cake to be discovered by the King for the Day.
The joy in seeing my parents was great. My father insisted immediately on being taken to see his grandson and had brought a carved s.h.i.+p for him which was a replica of one of his own Lions-The Triumphant Lion. I laughed at him and told him Connell was too young for such toys, and he retorted that real boys were never too young for s.h.i.+ps.
It moved me deeply to see him at Connell's cradle, putting out a great hand before the child's face. Connell reached up and his hand curled about my father's little finger. I had rarely seen my father so moved. I believe there were actually tears in his eyes.
He stood up abruptly and he said to me, ”So my girl Linnet has a son of her own. Bless you, girl. You've made me a happy man.”
Later when we rode together as we used to when I was at home and the understanding had started between us, he said to me: ”I spent years railing against fate that denied me a legitimate son. When you came I cursed G.o.d for giving me a girl. Now I see I was wrong. I learned in time that you were as good as any boy-and so you've proved. Now you've given me my grandson.”
I said I was happy too. Then I added: ”I have to watch my son will not be spoiled. His father dotes on him even as you do. He must not grow up to think he has but to smile and the whole world will be at his feet.”
”Have no fear. That boy will take after his grandfather. I see it. He'll be for the sea. He's got that look in his eyes.”
I laughed at my father, but he was serious.
”I'm glad,” he said, ”you've got a man who is a man. Never quite took to Fennimore Landor. Too much of the popinjay about him.”
”You are not fair to him. He is a brave good sailor.”
”Squeamish,” said my father. ”Can you see him pacing a deck with blood dripping from his cutla.s.s?”
”I should not admire him for that.”
”A handsome fellow, I grant you. But you've got a man and I'm proud of you.”
Yes, there was no doubt that my father liked my husband. They rode together and talked a great deal.
My mother too seemed happy, and Damask's infatuation for Colum continued. He was amused by the child but he took little notice of her, which she did not seem to mind as long as she could sit near and watch him.
It was like the old Christmases I remembered at Lyon Court. I suppose I had made it so. All the servants and their families came into the great hall and were given wine and Christmas cake; they sang carols and the mummers came and performed.
I did talk to my mother when we were alone.
I mentioned the fact that I had discovered Colum had been married before. ”His wife was Melanie Landor,” I said. ”Fennimore's sister. Did you know?”
”We did discover it after the wedding,” said my mother. ”What a time that was! First the secret ceremony and then the other. It was all rather hurried, as it had to be.”
”When did you realize that Colum's first wife was Melanie Landor?”
”It was after your wedding when you had left for Castle Paling with Colum. The Landors were to visit us. Only Fennimore and his father came. Mistress Landor was taken ill. She admitted to me afterwards that she could not face us when she knew that our daughter had married her daughter's husband.”
”It must have been a shock for her.”
”It was. How did you discover? But Colum told you, I suppose.”
”No, he did not. I found out through Jennet.”
”Trust Jennet!” said my mother half indulgently, half in exasperation.
”Yes, Jennet told me who she was. I was surprised.”
”And you mentioned it to Colum?”
Memories came back to me-the darkening room, the red bed with the shadows deepening and the ghost of Melanie lurking.
”I did. He was not very pleased.”
”He had not wished you to know?”
”I am not sure of that. He had simply not mentioned it. It was over, she was dead and he was married to me now. Tell me what Mistress Landor said when she knew I had married Colum.”
”Remember that she lost her beloved daughter. She must have been nearly demented when it happened. She did not wish her daughter to have any more children. She was certain that if she did she would kill herself. Of course she blames Colum. She becomes hysterical over her daughter's death. We must understand that, Linnet.”
”She told me that her daughter had been murdered. It was a great shock when I discovered who she was ... for that reason.”
”You must remember she is a mother. That is why she has to blame someone for her daughter's death. Her grief was a.s.suaged by her anger against her daughter's husband. Sometimes when grief like that sweeps over you anger is an outlet for it.”
”I understand. And the Landors have never had any communication with Castle Paling since her death.”
”Perhaps in time they will come to see reason. In any case, my dearest, you are happy. You have a beautiful son and a husband who loves you. And it has all happened so quickly. Just over a year ago that we ... No matter. I rejoice. May G.o.d bless you, my darling, and may you always be as happy as you are now.”
She wanted to see the castle. I told her about Ysella and Nonna. ”Ysella's Tower is locked up. It is used as a kind of storage place. Seaward is where certain of the servants live.”
”A whole tower to themselves?” said my mother.
”There is so much s.p.a.ce in a castle, Mother.”
”I remember the Abbey where I spent my childhood. It is very beautiful here, and so interesting. I like to think of my little girl as the chatelaine of a great castle.”
When I was showing her the rooms in the castle we came to the Red Room.
It was the first time I had been in it since that night when Colum had found me there. I noticed that there was a layer of dust on the planked hutch and the bedposts.
My mother noticed it too and raised her eyebrows. As she grew older she had become a meticulous housewife.
”The servants don't like to come in here alone,” I said.
”The haunted room, is it? Now I see it has that air. What legend is there attached to this place?”
I said: ”It was the room in which Colum's first wife died.”
”Ah,” said my mother, ”if I were you I would take down those red hangings and the bed curtains and put in another colour. Change it.”
”I hadn't thought of that.”