Blaze Wyndham Read Free

said the earl. “Gold, lands, and standing I have in abundance. What I lack is children. What I need is a son, and for my son’s mother I would have a strong and healthy wife. My Cathy was a gentle soul. We were betrothed in the cradle. She was her father’s only surviving child. His lands, which were not entailed, matched my father’s lands. It was considered a good match. We knew each other all of our lives. Like Queen Catherine herself, my own Catherine suffered miscarriage and stillbirths over the otherwise happy years of our union. She died giving birth to the only one of our children to survive outside of her womb. Alas, but our son followed his mother within hours of her own death, and was buried in her arms.”
    The earl’s voice wavered for a brief moment, and he ducked his head to hide his pain, then continued onward. “It is told me, sir, that Lady Rosemary has never suffered the loss of a child either before or after its birth. Surely a daughter of such a healthy woman would herself also be healthy. That is why I come to you, Lord Morgan. That is why I would have one of your daughters to wive. Do you have a marriageable daughter at this time?”
    “I have three, my lord earl, and a fourth I suspect who is also not far from womanhood, but again I tell you I know not how I can dower one daughter, let alone eight.”
    “Are those daughters fit, sir?”
    “They have never had a sick day in their lives, any one of them. Indeed it is miraculous, for my otherwise healthy young son snivels and wheezes his way through each winter even as I do.”
    “Pick whichever of your daughters you would, my lord Morgan. I care not as long as she is old enough to bear children, and does not squint. Keep your lands for your son: I will have your daughter without a dowry. As part of her marriage portion from me I will settle upon each of her sisters a dowry of her own, enabling you to make decent betrothals for them all. My bride will be treated like a queen, and shall lack for nothing that she may desire. This I swear to you upon the soul of my own dead Catherine.”
    Rosemary Morgan pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress her cry. She could not believe what she had just heard, for it was a miracle, and surely the answer to their prayers. Her gray-blue eyes wide, she looked up at her husband. He was pale with the shock of the earl’s speech. She watched for what seemed like forever as he struggled to regain a mastery of himself.
    Lord Morgan finally drew in a deep breath, and expelling it noisily as if to clear his head, he said, “I would, of course, choose my eldest daughter to be wed first. She will be sixteen on the last day of November. Her name is Blaze.”
    “An unusual name,” remarked the earl.
    “All of our daughters have unusual names,” said Lady Morgan, now recovering from her initial surprise. “I am afraid poor Father John disapproves most highly. In order to have my own way I have had to baptize each of my girls with a saint’s name first. As they have all been christened Mary, they are known as I would have them known.”
    The earl chuckled. “Is your daughter Blaze as determined, madam, as you are? I would hope that her name is not indicative of her temperament.”
    “Blaze is a good child, sir, but I would be honest with you,” said Lady Morgan. “She is no milk-and-water lass. None of my girls are.”
    “And what are their names?” he queried her.
    “After Blaze come Bliss and Blythe, our fourteen-year-old twins. Then there is Delight. She is thirteen, and still somewhat of a scamp. Our second set of twins, Larke and Linnette, are nine. Vanora is seven, and Gavin and his sister Glenna are five.”
    The earl smiled once again at Lord and Lady Morgan. “I envy you that fine family. Particularly your small son,” he said.
    “There were times when even I despaired of seeing him born,” Robert Morgan admitted candidly.
    “But he was born!” the earl replied. “With a young and healthy wife,