Rosamund Read Free Page B

be. But Edmund had a good feeling about the new lord. He chuckled to himself. His greedy and mean-spirited half-brother believed he had chosen a feeble old man to husband their niece. Edmund chuckled again.
    Henry had always been a smug fellow. Edmund knew just what he was about, for he was as transparent as a piece of glass. Henry had made this marriage for Rosamund because the child was yet too young to be mated and bred. Hugh Cabot was surely past such things. Yet the heiress to Friarsgate was still a married woman, safe from the predators who would marry her and disregard Henry’s wishes. Henry wanted Friarsgate for his own heirs. If the child Agnes carried was a son, Edmund had no doubt that Henry would have married that son to Rosamund as soon as it was possible. Even if the child was still at his mama’s breast. No matter that the bride would be older than the groom. Such things were common in marriages where land was the paramount issue. But if Hugh Cabot was the honest man Edmund believed him to be, then Rosamund would be safe from her uncle Henry, who had probably outfoxed himself in this matter at long last.
    Edmund watched as the two riders disappeared over the hill. Turning, he went back into his house to neaten it up. He would return to his duties as Friarsgate’s steward in the morning. Together he and Hugh would teach Rosamund all she needed to know to husband her lands when they were no longer there to do it for her.

    Friarsgate had chafed beneath Henry Bolton’s rule. Now with its new lord it once again became the happy place it had been in the time of Rosamund’s parents and grandparents. On All Hallows’ Eve, which was also the feast of St. Wolfgang, bonfires were lit on all the hillsides at sunset. In the hall at Friarsgate, a tall, large candelabra was placed at the center of the room. Garlands of greens hung with apples were suspended about the chamber, decorating it. The highlight of the meal was the crowdie, a sweet apple-cream dessert shared among those at the high board. Within the crowdie had been placed two rings, two coins, and two marbles.
    “I’ve a coin!” Rosamund shouted excitedly, laughing, as she pulled the penny from her spoon.
    “So do I!” Hugh chortled. “So, wife, if the legend is correct, we shall be rich, but then I already am with you.”
    “What did you get, Edmund?” the child asked her uncle.
    “Naught,” he said with a laugh.
    “But that means your life will be fraught with uncertainty,” Rosamund said. She dug her spoon into their common dish of crowdie. “I will find you the ring!”
    “He’s already wed wi me,” Maybel reminded her charge. “Leave the rings for the lasses in the kitchen who will enjoy what is left, my little lady.”
    “Did you get a prize?” Rosamund queried her nursemaid.
    “The marble,” Maybel admitted.
    “No! No!” the little girl cried. “That means your life will be lonely, Maybel!”
    “Well, it ain’t been lonely yet,” Maybel replied with a chortle. “I got you to look after, and I got my Edmund. It’s all a bunch of tomfoolery anyway.”
    Escorted by her husband, Rosamund went from the hall out into the early evening to pass out crisp apples from a woven willow basket to her tenants who were gathered about the All Hallows’ Eve fire on the hillside. Apples at this time of year were considered good fortune. Rosamund’s fruit was accepted with curtsies and bows and thanks from the people of Friarsgate.
    The following day was All Saints’, and a feast was held to honor all of the saints, known and unknown. On November second, All Souls’ Day was celebrated. The Friarsgate children went singing—a-souling—from door to door, and were rewarded with “soul cakes,” a small sweet oatcake with bits of apple in it. On the ninth day of the month Rosamund surprised her husband with a small feast to celebrate his natal day. She also presented him with a silver broach decorated with a black agate that had belonged to