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Linnet smiled again invitingly and shifted the baby on her lap. “I declare I can scarcely feel my legs,” she groaned. And no wonder, for her baby was a large one, thought Fen looking at his chubby cheeks. Mason broke off speaking to Oswald, and wordlessly reached down to take the baby from his wife. He slung his son over one shoulder and turned back to his brother, without pause in the conversation. Fen stood up and started to lift her chair, only to find it taken out of her hands by her husband, who carried it over to the fireplace and set it down next to Linnet’s. He too, returned to his conversation with Mason, almost seamlessly. Fen noticed, as she arranged her skirts, that they were talking about the state of the roads on the journey down from Cadwallader.
Fen cleared her throat. “I do hope your journey was not too arduous,” she said taking her cue from them. “It must be difficult travelling with small children.”
“Oh, not so as you’d notice,” said Linnet cheerfully. “We’ve got our servants Gertie and Nan with us, who positively dote on them. And Cuthbert, Mason’s squire, always helps out too.” She looked around distractedly. “Where is that boy? He must have snuck off. Either to the kitchens or the stables, I’ll be bound.”
Feeling a gaze on her, Fen turned her head to find the infant gazing steadfastly at her from his father’s shoulder. He crammed one of his chubby hands into his mouth and drooled on it.
“What a fine boy,” said Fen. Despite his shock of red hair, the brooding glower already marked him out as a Vawdrey. “I understand he is my husband’s godson.”
“Yes, that’s right,” answered Linnet sounding pleased. “I do hope my brood won’t get under your feet too much over the next couple of weeks.”
Fen looked up finding the two dark-haired little girls had crept in closer to hear their conversation.
“Oh, of course not,” she said encouragingly. “I hope we shall all become firm friends.”
One of the little girls leant against the arm of Fen’s chair. Her hand crept up to place a small silver thimble on it. “For you,” she whispered.
“Why Lily, how thoughtful,” said her mother. “A present for your aunt Fenella.”
“How kind,” said Fen, feeling quite touched. “Is it a Solstice gift?”
The little girl nodded, but couldn’t quite meet Fen’s gaze. It occurred to Fen, that Lily had some fellow feeling for a female so clearly in disgrace.
Another little girl appeared at her other elbow and tugged on her sleeve.
“Yes?” asked Fen. “You must be Margaret.”
“Meg,” the other girl confided. She seemed a little bolder than Lily, for her eyes fleetingly did meet with Fen’s. She pointed at the portrait above the fire. “Is that your little girl?” she asked.
Fen winced. “Um, actually that’s me. When I was younger and first betrothed to your Uncle Oswald.”
Both girls’ gazes were riveted on her now.
“How fascinating!” said Linnet, clasping her hands together. “I’ve always been curious about Oswald’s betrothals.”
“Well, I’m afraid I only know about his first one,” admitted Fen.
“Girls,” said Linnet, looking at her daughter. “Aunt Fenella was chosen for your uncle by your Grandfather, now what do you think about that?”
Both sets of green eyes widened. “Grandfather!” whispered Lily.
“You knew our Grandfather?” asked Meg.
“Yes,” agreed Fenella. “He had a big booming voice and a large bushy beard.”
“That was him,” sighed Linnet fondly.
The girls, clearly taking this as an endorsement, crowded in closer.
“Want to see your ring.” said Meg.
Fen held up her hand and all three females inspected it.
“Vawdrey panthers,” murmured Meg, while Lily settled for running a finger over the ruby.
“How beautiful!” exclaimed Linnet. “And how thoughtful of Oswald.” She looked as if she wanted to say more, but was mindful of her children’s presence. Instead she settled for: “I do hope we can spend some time getting to know each other this Solstice.”
“That would be nice,” agreed Fen. Feeling a gaze on her again, she looked up expecting to see baby Archie, but instead found it was her husband looking at her. She smiled, but he turned swiftly away.
