Page 81 of The Lovers (Echoes from the Past #1)
SIXTY-FOUR
Suffolk, England
Only the front few pews of St. Edmund’s Church were full on the day of the baptism.
Edward had been eager to baptize the child right away, but the baby had to be at least a month old, according to the midwife, to be safely taken into town, and Elise had to be churched in order to attend the baptism of her firstborn.
Until then, she was considered unclean and couldn’t receive the holy sacraments.
Elise thought that she might chafe at being cooped up for a month after the birth, but her body needed to recover, and her fascination with her son kept her fully occupied.
The servants thought she’d gone daft, besotted as she was with her baby, but Elise simply basked in the joy of being a new mother and relished being truly needed at last. She’d overheard Mistress Benford expressing the view that this was common enough in peasants, but not in women of higher station who handed off their babies as soon as they were born to be cared for by nursemaids and suckled by a wet nurse.
Elise had no such plans, but she feared that Edward might overrule her.
Edward arrived three days after the birth, by which time James was safely out of the way with Mercy.
He appeared thinner and older somehow, as if the events of the summer had taken a personal toll on him, but he assured everyone that he was in fine health.
Edward strode into the room and looked around until his eyes settled on the cradle in the corner.
He approached carefully, as if the baby might unexpectedly pop out, and stood over the cradle, watching the child sleep .
“You are to be congratulated, madam,” Edward said formally to Elise, who hovered behind him, awaiting his reaction to his newborn heir. “You have fulfilled your wifely duty.” Elise was taken aback by Edward’s stiff demeanor but decided to go along with it, hoping to tease him into a better mood.
“So are you, my lord. You have a fine son and heir and are the envy of all,” she said with a smile.
“So I am. So I am,” Edward replied, finally relaxing enough to smile. “What shall we call this little fellow?”
“I assumed you had a name picked out already,” Elise said, hoping that Edward would permit her some input.
“Charles, I think, after His Majesty. The king adores flattery, and having children named after him makes him happy. Charles Edward. We should have him christened at the earliest opportunity.”
“Middle of December, then,” Elise replied. “I will be churched by then, and Charles will be strong enough to be taken out.” She would happily accept the name Edward chose as long as she was allowed to be present at the baptism.
Edward looked irritated but conceded with good grace. “All right, middle of December it is. I shall remain here with you until then. His Majesty was most effusive in his congratulations and has given me leave to stay as long as I like.”
“It’s our pleasure to have you, then,” Elise said with as much cheer as she could muster.
She hoped that Edward would return to court and remain there until the christening, but it seemed he was determined to actually play the role of husband and father for a change.
She couldn’t imagine that Edward wouldn’t grow bored after a few days, but she had to hold her tongue in check.
He was master here, and she had to put on a show of obedience .
“What do you think of your brother, Barbara?” Edward boomed when he saw Barbara in the doorway. She never entered, just stood there, hovering and silent, her blank gaze fixed on the baby as if she couldn’t quite figure out where he’d come from.
Barbara shrugged. “Brother,” she said, but her attention was already on something else. She wandered off, leaving Edward even more annoyed than before.
“Dimwit,” he said under his breath, and Elise prayed that Barbara hadn’t heard that. She wasn’t sure that Barbara would care, but it was still wrong of a father to speak so of his child.
“Have you engaged a wet nurse?” Edward demanded.
“No. I’m nursing him myself.”
“That’s most unseemly. I’ll have Mistress Benford send to the village for a wet nurse. No lady in your position should suckle her own child. It’s base and quite disgusting.”
“Please, Edward. I enjoy it, and it’s not as if anyone sees me. I know virtually no one here, so no one would care. It’s such a pleasure to feed him. He is always hungry and has the most wonderful expression on his face when he’s had enough. It’s almost a smile.”
Edward turned to Elise, his eyebrows comically raised with surprise. “You enjoy it?” he asked, his tone incredulous.
“It’s a most gratifying feeling,” Elise confessed, hoping that Edward wouldn’t persist in hiring a nurse.
“The child seems to be thriving, so you may continue nursing him until we return to London. Then a wet nurse will be engaged, whether you like it or not.”
“Thank you, Edward,” Elise said. They wouldn’t be returning to London for a while yet, and by then Edward might have forgotten his decree.
For the moment, Elise had to endure Edward’s presence and accept the separation from James.
Not having him nearby made her feel vulnerable and lonely, especially since she couldn’t share her joy of their son with the child’s doting father.
She missed Mercy too. Mercy infused the household with good humor and mischief, and without her, the others seemed gloomier and less inclined to laughter.
Elise tried to focus on the words of the reverend, but her mind wandered as she gazed around the beautiful church.
Bright winter sunshine filtered through the stained-glass windows behind the altar, and rays of colored light streamed down, casting colorful shadows on the stone floor.
The voice of the reverend seemed to carry all the way to the vaulted ceiling, traveling the length of the nearly empty church and disturbing the unnatural hush.
Lord and Lady Fillmore stood next to Edward and Elise, having been invited by Edward to act as godparents to little Charles Edward.
Lady Fillmore was pleasant enough and expressed an interest in the baby and Elise’s health post-delivery, but Phineas Fillmore barely glanced at her, his eyes searching the church instead, as if he expected an ambush at any moment.
Elise met the couple briefly at the wedding feast, but she hadn’t had an opportunity then to speak with them or observe them.
She had been too absorbed by her own worries and expectations.
Now that she had nothing to do but stand quietly, Elise studied the people who would be her son’s godparents.
She wasn’t sure why, but she feared Lord Fillmore.
His shifty eyes and prizefighter physique put her on guard.
He held a noble title and dressed like a gentleman, but Elise knew a thug when she saw one.
Beneath the elaborate wig and richly embroidered coat was not a man of refinement.
Elise turned her attention to Lady Fillmore.
She was a few years older than Elise and very beautiful, with tresses of honey-blonde hair and wide blue eyes that constantly strayed to her husband, their expression watchful and at times even fearful.
What bound Edward to this coarse man, and why did he choose him to be their son’s godfather?
Elise hoped that they wouldn’t stay long and would return to Oxford—where the court had moved in September after cases of plague were reported in Salisbury—to the side of their king.
It was bitterly cold when they stepped out of the church.
An icy wind picked up and blew with gale-like force off the North Sea.
Shutters banged on houses, and brown, shriveled leaves cascaded from trees before being blown away like specs of dust. Elise held Charles close and covered his face with her cloak to keep the chill wind from freezing his little face.
Her own face felt numb with cold, and tears formed in her eyes from the force of the wind.
Several carriages waited outside, ready to take everyone back to the house, where a christening luncheon would be served.
Elise looked around as she was handed into the waiting carriage, hoping for a glimpse of James, but he wasn’t there.
Edward might fly into a rage if he spotted him, so James wisely stayed away.
She wondered where he’d taken Mercy. What a shame it was that Edward was so rigid that he had no desire to even meet his granddaughter.
Surely, he wouldn’t even care if Molly and her family perished. They were of no interest to him.
As the carriage drew up to the manor, Elise squared her shoulders against the gale and followed Edward into the house, where she reluctantly surrendered Charles to Peg.
Mistress Benford had been cooking and baking since the previous day, and a mouthwatering aroma permeated the first floor.
Lord Fillmore rubbed his hands together in anticipation, ready to enjoy a hearty meal and Edward’s fine claret.
Elise wished that she could escape directly after luncheon, but it was her duty to play hostess and look after Lady Fillmore, who’d be left to her own devices as soon as the men’s drinking turned serious.
It would be a long afternoon, particularly since all Elise wished for was to be alone with her lovely boy.
She pasted on a smile and invited their guests into the dining room.