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Chapter Six

“ A letter from Esgyrn Castle, my lord.”

The rider bowed to the people assembled around the table before handing the missive to Matthew, who smiled his thanks and instructed him to go to the kitchen for some food and ale. The dusty man went gratefully.

“This will be news of Esyllt and the babe. I expect she will be safely delivered by now. This second baby followed his sister Gwenllian rather quickly, but I don’t think anyone was surprised, given how devoted to one another my brother and his wife are.” He threw a quick glance at the letter and let out a burst of laughter. “Well, it appears my dear sister-in-law has given birth to a boy this time, if you would believe it! Little Rhys. My brother finally has a son. Miracles do happen, or it would seem.”

James smiled to himself. He had thought exactly the same thing a year ago, when he’d received news that Matthew, whom everyone here had thought would remain unmarried, had found himself a wife. Would there be a third miracle at Sheridan Manor? One that involved him for a change?

Just then, his gaze met Carys’. She flushed. His body surged. She averted her eyes. His heart leapt. Yes, perhaps there would be. Miracles came in all shapes and sizes, and the best ones came under the guise of women who brought color and excitement to men’s lives. Connor, then Matthew, and now him. Were all the men at Sheridan Manor destined to fall for Welsh women?

Was he falling of her?

No, surely what he felt wasn’t that deep?

“I am so glad for Esyllt. I must write to congratulate her, and tell her my own happy news,” Branwen said, placing a hand on her still flat stomach.

She had announced earlier that morning that she was expecting her husband’s first child. Both James and Carys had feigned ignorance of the fact, not wanting to spoil the moment for the parents-to-be. He had enjoyed sharing a secret with her. While Richard had enthused about the birth to come, the two of them had exchanged a glance full of complicity. Dear God, he was really getting old, if such looks were enough to make his heart flutter. As a young man, he would have preferred to exchange lusty looks hinting at a night of debauchery. But this had felt just as satisfying.

Once everyone had offered their congratulations, Matthew had looked at both him and Richard and declared that his son was to have the best two grandfathers he could have hoped for. James’ heart had almost burst with joy. Carys had been right the previous day. They would all be one big family here at Sheridan Manor.

Perhaps against all odds he would not end his life alone.

“Do you know, our babies will be cousins,” Branwen carried on. “Who would have thought it? Oh, I’m so happy.”

Carys smiled at her daughter. James knew what she would be thinking. Branwen had been happy since her wedding to Matthew, but she was now positively glowing.

“So am I.” Matthew took his wife’s hand and lifted it to his mouth. “You will allow me to add a note to your missive, Raven, so I can ask Esyllt to be godmother to our child. I promised her on the day of Gwenllian’s christening that she would be my first child’s godmother. I will be only too glad to honor my promise now that the time has come. Unless you object?”

A giggle. “Of course not. I want no other than her and Eirwen. And, of course, Connor will be the godfather.”

“Of course.”

“Let us drink to little Rhys’ health!” Richard declared, raising his cup in the air. “May he be blessed with many more cousins in the years to come.”

Branwen blushed and hid her face in the crook of her husband’s neck. At first James could not identify the odd sensation bubbling in his chest. Then he realized that it was anticipation. For the first time in years, he had something to look forward to.

His gaze once again landed on Carys.

Yes. Perhaps his life was not quite over yet.

The rest of the meal was spent in a jovial atmosphere. Once everyone had washed their hands in the bowls of scented water, James drew Carys to one side.

“Can I have a word with you?” he asked in a breath, careful not to be overheard

She nodded and waited until they were alone to turn to him, eyes aglow. “What is it?”

It was only then he realized he had no idea why he had asked her to stay behind. What did he want to tell her? He didn’t know. So he just kissed her.

It was a gentle kiss, emotional, but intense nonetheless. Or perhaps it was precisely because it was driven by something other than lust that it was so intense. They worshipped one another’s mouth, knowing they didn’t have anything to prove. Their tongues swirled in a sensual dance rather than spar in a frenzied exchange. They took their time, savoring rather than devouring each other.

And his whole body surged in response.

His soul vibrated.

This was more than a kiss, it was the beginning of something. When they finally drew away, Carys stared at him a long moment, a dazed look in her eyes.

“What did you do that for?”

Another excellent question. Another one he did not have the answer to. But something about the announcement they had just heard had made it impossible for him not to kiss her. Anticipation was coursing up and down his spine and for the first time since Joanne’s death, he wanted to recapture a bit of spontaneity, a bit of the insouciance he and his wife had shared. He had become so dour since then, so stuck in his ways. He’d wanted to act, and not worry about the consequences for once.

“I didn’t kiss you the other day on the beach,” he murmured against her lips. “And it was eating at me. I thought it was time I rectified the mistake.”

“Oh, but you most definitely kissed me,” Carys whispered back, bringing her lips to his ear. “Only … not on the lips.”

Everything within James tightened. Jesus, was the woman trying to make him mad with lust by alluding to what he had done? If so, she was going the right way about it. He had not been able to forget what had happened on that blanket. His delight at seeing that her shift was indeed embroidered with flowers all along the hem, the joy bubbling in his veins at the thought of finally being able to taste her, her moans of ecstasy when she had spasmed around his fingers, and the satisfaction of knowing he had rendered her boneless, everything was etched into his mind for eterntity.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t take me afterward,” she carried on, her voice low and seductive. “Your explanation was interrupted by the arrival of the women and children and then later while we rode back home, I will admit I didn’t understand what you told?—”

Her voice trailed when he drew away from her, all desire doused.

Running a hand through his hair, he started to pace around the room. He’d not taken her because he could not, and now he would have to tell her why. At the time, he’d been relieved his explanation had been cut short but things had become too personal between them; he could not let her worry she had done something wrong or think that he didn’t want her. He knew his statement about not having any spare parts of himself to lose would have puzzled her. But how to explain his reticence to bed her?

Better to start at the beginning.

“I told you that day I didn’t have any children. Well, I did, once. My wife gave birth to four babies, and I buried them all.” His chest tightened at the memory, as he’d expected, but now that he had started, he found that he did not want to stop. “My two daughters, conceived first, were both born dead. The first one came out before her time, and there was nothing we could do. The other, we were told, had been strangled by the umbilical cord during the long and difficult labor. Again, there was nothing to be done but to accept the loss. Joanne was heartbroken, and blamed herself for not being able to deliver her swiftly enough. I was devastated also but had to find the strength to be there for her, convince her she had done nothing wrong.”

Carys was frozen in horror by the revelation. The pain of losing one child after another was hard to imagine. She waited, because he had mentioned four children, and only told her what had happened to his two poor daughters. Where were his sons?

“After those traumatic experiences it took me a while to agree to Joanne’s entreaties that I give her another child.” He shook his head as if fearing she would judge him for refusing his wife her dearest wish. She did not judge him. No one could know how they would react after going through such tragedy. She might have done the same in his place. “I gave her pleasure, of course, and we even made love on occasion, but I always made sure not to reach my release inside her. I could not bear to lose another child, or her, in childbed. The two births had been hard on her. I did not see how a third one would not end in tragedy.”

“Of course.” It was all too understandable.

“Then one day, despite my carefulness, she announced she was with child again. I was petrified, but did my best to hide my feelings from her, not wanting to spoil her joy or worry her unduly. Six months later she gave birth to the most beautiful babe I had ever seen. We were happy again, and my fears receded to the back of my mind. Two years after Edward’s birth, she told me we were to have another child. Anthony was born on Christmas Day, the exact copy of his brother. For a while, everything was perfect.”

For a while. Yes. Until disaster struck again. Carys braced herself.

“What happened to them?”

Did she want to know? Yes. If James could find the courage to speak out, she could certainly listen.

“For Anthony, we don’t know. Four months after his birth, we found him one morning, dead in his cot. No one could give us any explanation as to what that might be. I still don’t understand what could have happened. We were told that it was God’s will, and that we weren’t the first or the last parents to experience such loss. A meagre consolation, as I’m sure you’ll agree.” He rubbed a shaky hand over his face. Carys could barely breathe. Years later, his pain was still so vivid that she could feel the echoes of it rippling through her. She could not begin to imagine what he had gone through. “He was such a happy, lively little boy. When I found him, cold and still, I could not accept it. I held him all day and?—”

He stopped and clenched his fists. Carys stayed silent, because there was nothing to say. It was horrid, and nothing she could have said would change that.

She had heard about these mysterious, sudden deaths. One summer, two women in her village had lost their babes that way in the space of a week. Her neighbor had been a friend, so, naturally, Carys had gone to offer her condolences. Lost to her grief, unable to make sense of the tragedy that had hit her, desperate to find a culprit, the woman had rounded on her.

“You’re lucky to be unable to bear children!” she’d spat. “At least you’ll never know the pain of losing a babe.”

Yes, she was a lucky woman indeed, who would never know the joy of holding her babe in her arms.

She’d not responded.

Pushing the memories away, she took James’ hand in hers. “What about Edward?” Though this was painful, she didn’t want to give him the impression she didn’t care about his second son’s death. Each of the boys deserved to be talked about, because they had each been equally loved.

“About a year after Anthony’s death, Edward came back home one evening, complaining of cramps in his stomach. We asked him what he’d been doing that day and were told he’d drank some of the stagnant water by the marshes.” James’ eyes were void of emotion, his voice flat but this time Carys didn’t make the mistake of thinking him impassible. He was anything but. “He suffered for days. Just like with the others, there was nothing I could do, but this time it was even worse. I had to watch all the while, knowing I could not help, until he died.”

“Oh, James.”

Lord, this was unbearable.

“After that I found it impossible to make love to my wife in the normal way. I just couldn’t bear to father another child, only to lose him in turn. She understood, I think, and never complained, never blamed me. But it meant we could never quite recapture what we’d had at the start of our marriage. On her death bed I told her I wish I could have acted differently, but of course it was too late. She died without having joined with me, her husband, properly, for years.”

Carys squeezed the hand she was still holding. “ Mae’n ddrwg gen i .”

Telling him she was sorry, and in Welsh, would not help in any way. But she needed to say it nonetheless. Why had she asked him anything? They had kissed, it had been wonderful, and instead of basking in the moment she’d gone and ruined it all with her stupid question, reminding him of his losses, his pain and his regrets. Couldn’t she have let it be?

“So in answer to your question, I didn’t take you that day on the beach because I could not. I cannot risk losing control. It’s been years since I have been able to?—”

To let himself go in a woman’s arms.

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. She’d understood what he’d not been able to say. But she knew with her there was no risk, as she would never conceive. Should she tell him as much? Was she brave enough? Was it the right time? They were talking about him right now.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you, or touched you in the way I did, because I’m never going to give you what you want. I cannot.”

Something fell to the bottom of Carys’ stomach. He thought she only wanted him for the pleasure his body could give her when he possessed her. He thought she was looking for a lover. She did not. She was not. What was between them was more than that.

Before she could say anything, he left.

“Carys, there you are. I looked for you everywhere yesterday and could not find you.”

Carys smiled at Richard. “No, you couldn’t have. I went to the village in the afternoon with Eirwen.”

The two of them had gone to Mistress Ivy to tell her about Branwen being with child, knowing she would be delighted at the news. She had been.

“I knew there wasn’t any problem with your daughter,” she said, abandoning the pots and plants she’d been sorting out to take her hands in hers. “Now that she has seen for herself that she can do it, she will have the beautiful family she craves. Sometimes it’s all in the mind.”

“Yes.”

And sometimes it was not, Carys couldn’t help but think. Sometimes there really was something broken in a woman’s body. Mistress Ivy must have seen the pain slashing through her guts because her smile wavered.

“I’m sorry. That was not the best thing for me to?—”

She cut her with a swift smile. “You couldn’t have known. And you’re right. Now that Branwen has seen there is nothing wrong with her, she will be able to relax and give her husband the family they both want.”

Carys certainly hoped so. With her conversation with James still preying on her mind, she could not help a sense of foreboding. All her life she had focused on getting with child. That, for her, had been the difficult part. She had not stopped to think beyond the conception, or even imagined that there could be problems afterward. But, oh, now she knew just how many there could be. The story she’d heard that morning would haunt her for months to come. James and Joanne had suffered so much! Please let Branwen and Matthew not go through what they had gone through. She wasn’t sure how any of the people at Sheridan Manor would bear it.

“I just brewed some lemon balm tea,” Mistress Ivy said, an obvious attempt at distraction. “Would you like a cup?”

“With pleasure.”

While they talked and drank the fragrant tea sweetened with honey, Eirwen hovered by the table where dozens of plants had been piled up, ready to be sorted before being dried. By the time the tea had been drunk and they were ready to go, the table looked very different.

Instead of taking exception to Eirwen’s meddling, as some people might have, the healer arched a brow. “Does your daughter know about plants?” she asked, surveying the arrangement. “She’s not only made neat piles and gotten rid of the less than perfect leaves, but she’s organized them according to the properties they possess. Look, here are the ones used for stomach complaints, there are the ones that can combat fever, and so on. I cannot believe she placed them thus at random.”

Carys frowned. Was Eirwen knowledgeable about plants? She’d certainly never hinted at an interest in healing. Intrigued herself, she translated the question. Her daughter reddened and nodded, as if admitting to a guilty secret.

“Apparently, she does,” Carys told the healer, amazed and proud all at once.

“She must do, because she’s done exactly what I would have done, and even started to remove the leaves from the stalks in preparation for drying. This is most helpful.”

After that, the woman had asked them to come back another day to see if Eirwen was as knowledgeable about plants as she suspected she was. As it happened, with the growing population in the village, she had been hoping to get some help. Carys had been only too glad to agree. It would be wonderful if, thanks to her unsuspected skill, her daughter could make a difference in the community and get to know people. Her knowledge of English would also improve that way. At the moment, she was barely able to communicate with people other than her and Branwen. Mistress Ivy did not seem concerned, however, when Carys pointed the potential problem out.

“We’ll find a way to understand one another. It seems to me she doesn’t need much guidance anyway,” she’s added, nodding toward the table. “She knows what she’s doing.”

“Then, of course we’ll come back.”

Eirwen, when consulted, nodded enthusiastically.

Carys had left the hut feeling ten times lighter. This was just what Eirwen needed, a new friend, a way to fit in her new environment. It seemed both her daughters would find their happily ever after in England. Who would have thought? Blessed be Matthew Hunter, who was responsible for this turn of events.

Heat invaded her, because it was not only Branwen and Eirwen’s life he had changed. He was also responsible for her meeting with James. And the steward might potentially be her happily ever after.

“Did you need anything?” she asked Richard, who was still waiting, an expectant look on his face.

Before he could answer, she reached out for her embroidery basket. An idea had just popped into her head. She would decorate a blanket with ivy leaves to thank the kind healer for her offer to tutor Eirwen, and she wanted to start immediately. As it happened, she had just purchased new threads and so had the perfect colors for what she wanted to do, different hues of green.

“Yes, a word with you, if I may.” Richard walked over to her. Carys stilled. There seemed to be a new intensity about him today, one that unsettled her. “You know, I’m so glad we’re able to understand each other at last.”

Her heart started to flutter in her chest. They had been able to understand one another for months. Why was he coming to her now?

“Are you?” she croaked, placing the embroidery basket back in its place. It was obvious she wouldn’t be making any blankets right now. Her discussion with Richard would require all her powers of concentration.

“Yes. And I think you might know why.”

Yes, unfortunately, she thought she might know why. She had not missed the looks he’d thrown her as they had traveled from Wales to England together. He had been smitten with her. But just like it had been with James, they had been prevented from getting to know one another by the language barrier. She had thought he might come to speak about his feelings for her as soon as she was able to communicate in English. Then, when months had passed and he had kept silent, she had allowed herself to relax and hope she had been mistaken. Perhaps not being able to understand him had made her imagine things, or he had found someone else who piqued his interest here at Sheridan Manor and forgotten about her.

Well, evidently, she’d not been mistaken and he’d only been biding his time, becoming her friend. It was clear that he was about to open his heart to her. Her own heart sank in her chest because, although she thought him perfectly amiable, her feelings for him would never be more than friendship and she hated the idea of causing him pain.

Thinking it preferable to stop him before he could open up, she started. “Richard, forgive me, but I?—”