The Hands of Time Page 13

  Valerie had taken to coming into his bed at night seeking comfort and warmth, and as much as he longed to comfort her, her presence was a constant torment. Feeling her body nestled close to him, her womanly smell filling his nostrils, he was being torn apart by desire and guilt. He wasn’t sure how she would respond if he touched her, but even if she welcomed him, it would only be out of loneliness and grief. She didn’t want him; she wanted Finlay. For his own part, the guilt of lusting after his brother’s wife was overwhelming, especially so soon after his death. He swore to himself that he would make no move until enough time had passed, and Valerie wanted him to. He promised Finn he would marry Valerie, and he would do it tomorrow if he had to, but the marriage bed would have to come later. It was not enough to have Valerie’s body; he wanted her soul too, and that would take time.

  Alec arose from his chair and smoored the fire before going to bed. He braced himself for another sleepless night, as Valerie snuggled against him and nearly drove him to madness with her nearness. Some days, he thought it would be easier to just take a knife and castrate himself, than endure another night of frustrated desire.

  Chapter 42

  I was dreaming. I had to be, because Finlay was alive and sound asleep next to me in the gray light of early morning. I pulled open the bed curtains slightly, to watch the large flakes of snow falling silently from the leaden sky and twirling to the ground, covering everything in sight. The world was a study of white and gray, silent and dreamy. Even the dogs were quiet, no doubt asleep in their warm kennel. I lay quietly, enjoying the warm weight of Finn’s arm holding me close, and happiness flooded through me to know that he was still alive, not broken and dead, lying in his lonely grave by the Abbey.

  Finn sensed my wakefulness, and pulled me into a warm embrace before getting out of bed and cursing profusely, crouching by the hearth to rekindle the fire. It was awfully cold, and I was glad once the flames merrily crackled, once again raising the arctic temperature in the room. Finn dove back into bed, warming his frozen feet against my calves, and making me squirm and giggle. It didn’t take him long to get other ideas, and he slid under the covers, pulling up my nightdress and kissing my swollen belly, silently proclaiming love for our unborn child. His kisses headed south and I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation and trembling with desire. Finn came back up, and as he raised himself above me, green eyes turned to amber and suddenly it was Alec, his eyes never leaving mine as he claimed my inflamed body for his own. I welcomed him without reservation, and he took what had been denied him for so long.

  I woke up drenched in sweat and shaking with need, to find Alec sound asleep next to me. It was still fully dark, and I felt a wave of shame at the thought of betraying Finn with Alec, even in a dream. As I silently berated myself, my body longed for the touch of the man next to me, and I moved away, careful not to wake him. It was just the pregnancy hormones that were surging through my body. I knew I loved Alec, but I wasn’t ready for our relationship to change. Finlay had been my lover, and I would mourn him until I was ready to love again.

  Chapter 43

  The winter finally began to give way to spring, and the castle began to come back to life. Purple heads of crocuses were poking through the snow-covered earth of the garden, and the drip-drip of melting snow could be heard in the middle of the day, when the sun was at its warmest. It all froze again at night, but spring was definitely on the way. Alec would go into Plymouth by the end of the month to start making arrangements for the first shipment of the season. He was itching to get back to work, and have something to occupy him, taking his mind off Finn’s death.

  I was amazed by the size of my belly, and the little person inside was getting bigger and kicking a lot harder, making me double over in pain sometimes as a tiny foot rammed me in the ribs with all the force it could muster. I was anxious about the birth, but I tried to keep my fears to myself, knowing Alec was also worried. He had lost everyone he loved, and if anything happened to me, I knew he would go mad. Bridget had delivered her share of babies back home, but I wanted a real doctor, so Alec arranged with Dr. Marsh to come as soon as I felt the first pains. The doctor would not openly deny Alec, but his attitude towards us had changed since Finlay’s arrest. We were persona non grata now, and we would be reminded of it at every turn.

  Despite my fear, I was looking forward to the birth of the baby, and was more than ready to be alone in my body again. I couldn’t get comfortable during the day or at night, and was exhausted from lack of sleep due to my night wakings to use the pot. Come soon baby, I thought to myself, urging my little tenant to make an appearance.

  I woke up on the morning of March 15th feeling achy and tired, and forced myself to get out of bed. Alec had already gone. I used the chamber pot and went back to my room to get dressed for the day. My back was hurting more than usual, so I walked around the dining room massaging my lower back with my fists, pressing them harder and harder trying to alleviate the pain. I saw Bridget watching me as she poured me a cup of tea and placed a warm bun on my plate. She was just about to say something when Alec walked in, looking invigorated and smelling of cold and pine.

  “Best go fetch the physician, Mr. Alec,” Bridget said, giving me a knowing smile. “I think we might have a baby before day’s end.”

  “What?” we both turned to her surprised. “Pardon me for saying in front of the Master, but I have seen enough births to know how they start. ‘Tis back labor you are having, Mistress. ‘Twill not be long now afore it comes on full force. Best get the doctor.”

  Alec was out the door before I could even reply, and I heard him galloping out of the yard a few minutes later. I felt a pang of fear at Bridget’s words, but I had to give birth sometime, and today was as good a day as any. Bridget and I had spent the past few months sewing baby gowns and knitting little sweaters; I was as ready as I’d ever be. By the time Alec returned with the petulant Dr. Marsh, my pains had moved from my back to the front and I was walking around, finding that it made the contractions easier to bear. Alec gave me a worried look, but Dr. Marsh shooed him out of the room, ordering me to lie down so he could examine me.

  “You’ve got hours yet,” he said sounding displeased. “Stay in bed and I will check on you in an hour or so. In the meantime, I would not say no to some luncheon.” Bridget led him to the dining room to be fed, and I got back up again and continued my pacing. The contractions were not that close together, and despite being painful, they were still bearable. The doctor was probably right. I had hours yet.

  I eventually wore myself out with the pacing, and lay down on the bed trying to get some rest. The contractions weren’t getting any closer, and I was worried that something was wrong. Dr. Marsh assured me that everything was just fine, and went back down to have a drink with Alec, who insisted on coming up every half-hour to check on me. He looked more scared than I did, and that gave me a little comfort. By midnight, I was tired and cranky. The pain was getting worse and walking didn’t really help anymore. Every contraction nearly brought me to my knees, as I clenched my teeth trying not to cry out. Bridget was at my side, wiping my forehead and murmuring words of encouragement. I had to admit that I was becoming more scared, as my body began to turn on me and dish out more pain than I could handle.

  I felt another wave of pain rolling over me, and heard myself screaming as if I was somewhere outside my body. The pain was tearing me apart, and I could feel my bones moving to make room for the baby. It had finally made up its mind to come out, and now it was pushing down with unbearable force, trying to fight its way into the world. Bridget had made me a twisted sheet wrapped around the bedpost, to pull on when it came time to push, and I held on to the sheet with both hands, pushing with all my might as Dr. Marsh looked on; tired and eager to leave. He said that everything was all right and I believed him, too scared to contemplate any complications.

  “Push, Valerie,” Bridget urged me, to the disapproval of the doctor.

  “I’ll tell her when to push.
Get away with you, girl.” He was irritated and took it out on Bridget, but she would not leave me. She got on the bed behind me, supporting my back and giving me something to lean against as I pushed. I heard a terrible scream erupt from somewhere deep in my chest, as I tried in vain to get the baby out. I could hear Alec’s pacing outside the room, his footsteps on the creaking floor obliterated by my next scream.

  I must have been pushing for hours, but at last, sometime after 3:00 am, the head finally appeared between my bloodstained thighs, and the doctor lazily pulled the baby from my body. I held my breath for a moment waiting for it to cry, then released it in a flood of tears as the baby wailed in protest, as Dr. Marsh cleaned its mouth and nose, and presented it to me wrapped in a warm blanket. I lay back on the pillows exhausted, and clutched the baby to my chest. Its face was screwed up in another wail, and I kissed its tiny head, crying into the downy dark hair.

  “Is it healthy, Dr. Marsh?” I asked through my sobs.

  “It is a healthy boy, Mistress Whitfield.” The doctor was washing his hands in the basin and collecting his instruments. He was eager to go home, and I was glad to see the back of him. He wasn’t a very nice man. Alec poked his head into the room asking permission to come in, and I waved him in, feeling the mattress sag as he sat down next to me. I silently handed him the baby, watching him trace the soft cheek with his finger, and count the fingers on the hand that came out of the wrapping.

  “It’s a boy, Alec. Finlay Alexander Whitfield. What do you think of that?”

  “I think Finn would be so proud of you and of his son. I hope that wherever he is right now, he can see him and rejoice.” I didn’t really believe that Finn was anywhere, but I didn’t say so to Alec, letting him enjoy his fantasy. Finn would be proud, and I would have given anything at all to have him with me right now, but it was Alec holding the baby and Alec, who would be his father. I lay back pushing my damp hair out of my face.

  “I’m famished. Does anyone have a biscuit or something?” I asked, licking my cracked lips and longing for a drink of water. Bridget sprang into action. “I am sorry, Mistress. I should ‘ave known. There is always such an appetite after a birthing. I will bring you some sausage rolls and a cup of ale. Ye need yer strength and food to make milk for the baby. Try feeding ‘im. See the way he is opening and closing ‘is mouth. It’s a nipple he’s wanting.” I felt a little self-conscious as I pulled down the side of my nightdress revealing my swollen breast, and watched Alec’s look of hunger as the baby took my nipple into his mouth and began to suck rhythmically. My eyes never left Alec’s as I nursed the baby, and I knew that although Finn would always be with us, it was time for him to take a back seat and allow us to fulfill his wish.

  Chapter 44

  Present Day

  Louisa huddled into her coat to keep out the chill of the March morning. The bare trees of Central Park looked stark against the backdrop of the leaden winter sky, making everything look like a black-and-white photograph. Filthy slush from the melting snow covered most of the pavement, and her feet were cold and wet, as she made her way to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She couldn’t wait to get inside and have a hot cup of coffee.

  The studio was nice and warm, smelling of freshly brewed coffee, paint, and the tang of turpentine. Luisa’s assistant Billie was already at her desk, sipping from her mug and looking over some papers. Lou hung up her coat in the closet, and pulled a smock over her clothes turning to Billie.

  “What do we have today?” She poured coffee into her favorite mug, added a splash of milk and came to stand next to Billie.

  “A couple of canvases came in last night from an estate sale down south. They’re in the back room. Ms. Lawrence wants you to have a look and see if they’re worth anything. I’ve set them up for you.”

  “Thanks, I’ll go have a look right now.”

  Lou set down her mug and walked into the storage room at the back, flipping on the light switch. The room was full of old frames, canvases sent down for cleaning, and supplies. Several canvases were stacked against the wall covered with dust sheets, and Louisa pulled off the sheet of the one closest to her. It was a portrait of some pompous-looking old man with bushy whiskers and a bald pate. He stood with his chest puffed out, staring belligerently off the canvas with his hand on the hilt of his sword, a hound lying at his feet. The signature at the bottom looked like Joseph Blackburn, making the portrait more interesting. Joseph Blackburn had been one of the better known American portrait painters of the seventeenth century, and his work was always in demand by museums.

  Louisa pulled off the next sheet, and her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Looking straight at her was Valerie, dressed in an elaborate gown, her dark curls piled high on her head and secured by pearl-studded pins, a large sapphire glittering at her throat. The woman didn’t look modern, but there was no doubt in Louisa’s mind that she was looking at a portrait of her sister. She closed her eyes, took a couple of deep breaths, and opened them again. She was still there, smiling serenely, looking exactly as she had when she was alive. Lou had come to accept that Valerie was dead, but now she wasn’t so sure. Could it be possible that she had dressed in this gown and posed for a modern painter? She went to the door and called for Billie to come into the storage room.

  “Do we have names to go with these portraits?” She tried to sound casual, but her heart was leaping out of her chest and her hands were shaking badly. Billie consulted the list in her hand and read off:

  “Colonel Bradley Walters, 1605, Oil on Canvas.”

  “Mrs. Valerie Crane Whitfield, 1608, Oil on Canvas.”

  Louisa felt the world tilt around her as she slid to the floor, welcoming the darkness that enveloped her.

  Chapter 45

  April 1606

  I recovered quickly after the birth, the baby keeping me too busy to think of anything other than its needs. Finn ate around the clock, and I felt as if my nipples would fall off from all the sucking they received in a twenty-four-hour period. I was always hungry because my body burned so much energy producing the milk, and fell into bed between feedings to get some much-needed rest. Sometimes I would wake up to find Alec sitting on the bed, holding the sleeping baby in his arms, and gazing at him with wonder. I wished he could produce milk, because I think he would have enjoyed the feedings a lot more than I did.

  We were well into April, and the weather outside was glorious, a gentle sunshine warming the cold earth, and everything just on the verge of bursting into bloom. I couldn’t believe that I’d been at the castle for nearly a year. It felt like a lifetime. I could barely remember my old life anymore, and I thought of it less and less.

  “I thought we could go into Plymouth next week,” said Alec, as he handed me the baby for yet another feeding. I pulled down my bodice and watched my greedy son latch on.

  “We could have Finn baptized and get married at the same time.” He watched me intently, and I knew that he’d been waiting to bring this up for some time, terrified of my reaction. Alec had been much better since the birth of the baby, showing signs of life in his once dull eyes. He still mourned Finn every day, but he was ready to get on with his life and to tell the truth, so was I. It was almost six months since Finlay died and decisions needed to be made.

  “That would be wonderful, Alec. Finn would approve. It’s what he would have wanted.” Alec looked momentarily taken aback.

  “Is that what you want?” I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, and I took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Yes, it’s what I want more than anything.” His face lit up, and I thought how beautiful he was when he smiled. I never wanted to see him look so desolate again, and I would do everything to make him happy.

  Chapter 46

  Father Stephen looked around stealthily before letting us into his room at the cottage. The shutters were closed against the fading light of the April evening, and he lit a candle, inviting us inside. He was staying with a farmer outside of Plymouth, and I heard him tell Alec that he would be
leaving for France within the next few weeks. He was tired of hiding, and his presence in the area had been noted by the authorities. Someone had ratted him out, and a dead priest was a useless priest. He could do more good somewhere else, and it was time for him to pack it in.

  The farmer’s wife brought a basin to be used in the baptism, and the priest donned his cassock and began the ceremony. Finn was outraged by the water poured on his head, and howled so loudly that the priest began to worry and look around in panic. I took the newly baptized baby and turned toward the wall, sticking a nipple into his mouth to shut him up, letting him suck until he finally began to feel heavier in my arms and fell into a contented sleep. Bridget took the baby, as I adjusted my bodice and took my place next to Alec, reaching for his hand. He looked handsome in his finery, with his hair tied back into a ponytail, and his boots buffed to a shine.

  Alec had insisted I wear the dress from the ball, and I felt equally attractive in my gown standing next to him in front of priest and God. Father Stephen performed the marriage service, more relaxed now that the baby wasn’t screaming anymore. He pronounced us man and wife, and Alec kissed me gently on the lips, consecrating our union. I shivered in anticipation of what was to come. We would head back to the castle tonight, and Bridget would take the baby for the night with enough milk expressed from my breast to keep him quiet for at least a few hours; giving us a chance to have our wedding night.

  I had to admit that I was terribly nervous. Finn and I made love spontaneously that first time, but this time it was different. Alec and I both knew what was coming, and felt a little self-conscious as we rode back to the castle, the baby asleep in Bridget’s arms, her knowing smile making me blush. It took some time for me to remove my dress, express the milk, and see Finn happily settled with Bridget, before I could turn my attention to my new husband. I suddenly thought that here I was married for the third time by the age of twenty-seven. I put the thought out of my mind and thought of Alec instead.