The Fiddler (Hand in Hand Chronicles)

Chapter 10 - "there is a tide in the affairs of men"

Aimee is never seen or heard from again. At least, not by me. Some claim a figure visits Piers' corpse. He's not buried. Edward can't let him go. I do suspect, or hope, Alice and Maggie know of Aimee's whereabouts but I'm well with them telling no one. I fill Maud in on the entire trip and give a bit of an edited version to the older children. Thomas never writes to me. And the next time the Barons meet he doesn't speak to me.
Back from London I bring the children some dogs. A big pair of wolfhounds to watch the nursery, and a large, mostly black mastiff pup for Blanche, as well as a pair of sweet setting dogs for Maud and Tommy, who like petting soft things. Blanche loves her mastiff, christening it Legion, and the creature soon follows her everywhere.
By the time fall comes so does the baby, a few days early but it's an easy labor. This time Maud asks me to stay with the children so I do, the elders and I play chess and I watch Emmy and Harry play with the dogs.
We're back to girls, a healthy, chubby little girl with already bright red hair. Joan. With three girls and a boy we're more than content with our brood. Maud is once again healthy and at our age we expect this to likely be our last child. Maud's past thirty, she could perhaps have one more but we'll try to avoid it for another few years. The older she gets the harder a pregnancy will be and Harry's birth was already a rough one.
Politically I do little. Edward has little power though he does his best to try to override that with royal privilege. His son is born a few months after my daughter, we have a Prince Edward now, a blessing it's a boy and he has a crown prince I suppose.  We don't go and visit that would mean leaving Leicester. We move out of an abundance of caution (I did laugh while Thomas shook the bodies of his lifeless children) to Monmouth castle, then eventually Kenilworth. It's virtually impossible to siege set on a marsh, and while it's bigger and more expensive to maintain, my growing family will soon need the room. Harry and Emmy are both walking and talking and baby Joan isn't going to be far behind.
"It's beautiful," Maud says, staring up at the ceiling, "Look at these windows."
"I've been here once. Thomas didn't want it so I got it. Hell to maintain but for some reason there's lots of you small people," I say, holding Harry back as he tries to run away. He thinks this game is hilarious and we do it very often.
"Can we pick our rooms?" Blanche asks, bouncing backward, as Legion follows her.
"So long as they're all the same hall yeah go on," I say.
"Come on Emmy," she takes her sister's hand, "Let's go find your room."
Maud laughs, "They're going to let lost."
"Oh I'm counting on it," I grin, finally letting Harry go. He runs to try to follow the others, the wolfhounds loping after him.
And we are safe. It's nearly impossible to siege, the great outer ward, food stores enough for five years if I ration it right. An entire swamp surrounding us. And plenty of yard within the walls for the children to play in.
Famine strikes England, but again with there being enough stores for years. I have to cut taxes and budget for my own properties but it really doesn't affect me at all. My family is entirely safe. Maud is happy, all our children thank god have been healthy, losing none in childbirth like most do. And she's remained healthy. We've avoided another pregnancy. All is going well.
Harry, my only son, bless him the boy in a house full of girls, struggles with his lessons. Unlike his sisters he reads slowly, often getting confused. His tutors get frustrated. I get new ones. Those get frustrated too. He's very frustrated. One day I come into the nursery to find him in tears over a reader, unable to even read the word 'cat'.
"Fine then. He can learn slower. He's happy it doesn't matter," I tell Maud.
"He does have his sisters, he tries hard though," she says.
"So let's let him do other lessons, take a break. He doesn't need to be miserable," I reason.
"He is little," Maud concedes, "I want him to read though. He's your heir."
"Let him learn at his own pace, I mean you're right he must but," I sigh, "I don't want him being mocked either."
"Perhaps the summer off," Maud offers, "Come fall he's a bit bigger. He's a boy maybe we're expecting him to learn to early. Do you remember when—,"
"I've intentionally done everything I can to forget my own childhood."
"Right."
I don't want him being mocked though. Not by anyone. I painfully remember how Thomas teased me about any mistake in lessons and I'm pretty sure those were typical errors. And we have a large family I don't want us neglecting him.
"Let's go say our good nights, and see if he wants to take some time off from at least reading," I offer.
"Yes, poor baby," she says.
When we get upstairs, Harry's room door is a crack open. I pause, stopping Maud from walking in I was born deceitful. One of the others is likely in there. I lean a bit to look.
Blanche is sitting on the edge of the bed, and little Harry is curled up, face splotchy from crying. He's clutching a velvety black toy dog, made to look like his wolfhound.
"I try so hard, I'm stupid," Harry whimpers.
"You're not stupid. And anyway, you don't need to know how to read," Blanche says, "I'll read things for you."
"You will?" Harry asks, "I don't want everyone thinking I'm stupid."
"We won't tell anyone. Me or Emmy will read for you, I promise," she says.
"Thank you sissy," Harry says, hugging her around the waist.
"Like papa says right? We take care of each other. You're going to win tournaments for me right?" She asks.
He nods so hard, red curls flopping.
"Okay. Now no more crying," she kisses his forehead.
Maud and I retreat, so she can come out. She does, closing the door.
"He's still crying over his lessons," she whispers, "Stop making him sad he's really dumb."
"He's not—dumb, your uncle Hugh is dumb," I say.
Maud hits me.
"You know your brother's dumb," I say "A person who is smart, would not be in your uncle Hugh's situation." He's Edward's accountant. And maybe sleeping with him. That's his situation. Because that went so great for the last man Edward bedded.
"Oh my god you cannot use uncle Hugh as an object lesson for every possible situation," Blanche says, so tired of me.
"Ah, I think it's clear that I can, I'm writing an epic poem on it. It's called 'Did uncle Hugh do that thing or could you imagine him doing it? If so don't do that thing' I'm gonna hang it in your classroom," I say, we're holding our hands identically as we condescend to each other. I hope Maud finds us funny.
"I know you're joking, but don't," Blanche says, "Don't do that. It's embarrassing."
"Your father is right, book smarts don't mean anything, a smart man is one who knows how to stay alive," Maud says.
"Well he feels stupid and he's sad. What's more important him crying or him knowing how to spell 'cat' he's got all of us," Blanche says, then she walks away.
Maud and I look at each other.
"Did we—just get chastised?" I ask.
"By the fourteen year old?" She says.
We nod.
I laugh, "It's good she's taking care of her brother."
"And she's right. At least he's not stupid like Hugh he has common sense. Hell Hugh would probably live longer if he couldn't read," she says.
"We just assume he'll do something stupid and die?" I ask.
"Yes," she says. Hugh is now Edward's sort of treasurer. Is Hugh good at this? Absolutely he's brilliant with money. Does he occasionally use this brilliance with money to skim the odd thousand crowns? Most definitely. Do other people know he's doing this? Yes. But the hilarious thing is, he's actually so good at his job the government is benefiting despite his occasional theft. Is he definitely becoming more and more of a criminal? Yes, yes he is. We know he's going to get caught and executed I asked Maud if she wanted me to try to save him she said no she didn't want to risk me in it. So it doesn't affect me at all but that is definitely happening.
We have a good life at Kenilworth. We take the children for walks through the forest, they love exploring the grounds with their dogs. And I learn to relax a bit about their whereabouts, constantly. My girls are strong. They don't have the fear I did. And big dogs are always trailing them to protect them, once the wolfhounds alert us to Harry getting closed in a cellar, but other than that brief panic they stay mostly out of trouble. And the odd trouble they do get in, like staying up late or the like, is mostly within the realms of a normal childhood.
I'm pretending that the day won't come when my baby girls will marry, but thankfully Blanche breaches that conversation for me.
She and Tommy slip into my study one afternoon. I'm trying to get through work to go play for Maud while she sews I know that's what she's doing. Harry had a bit of a fever so she's sitting with him.
"I thought you two were going hunting?" I ask. They and some of the staff will go bird hunting, sometimes I'll go but with the little one ill I had said to go on.
"We changed our minds. Father I want to talk to you," Blanche says.
"And I want to talk to you," Tommy raises his hand.
"Separately?" I ask.
"No, look, I know you've never talked about marrying me to anybody," she says.
"No, you're a bit young for that," I say, like I would consider it ever.
"Well I don't want to get married. Ever," she says, quickly.
"Neither do I!" Tommy pipes up. I kind of thought that with him and we like the kid so I'd never arranged it.
"So—can you marry us to each other? That way we don't have to marry anyone else?" She asks.
"You're so lucky I understood that the first go," I sigh.
"Please? I just—I don't want to marry," she says, "But if I marry him then—no one could arrange my marriage to someone I didn't want. And I don't want to join a nunnery or something."
"Ask your mother, and I ask you both wait six months and think it over. You might start liking girls and boys respectively you never know—oh stop blushing you two, I've lived with you your whole lives," I say, smiling a little as the both blush completely. "You're both young. Yes I agree give it perhaps half a year, but you have to tell your mother and see what she says."
"Thank you papa," Blanche comes around to hug me.
"I want you to be happy, that's all," I say, kissing her cheek.
I walk with Maud later, after she's spoken to them. Of course she's no more eager for our baby girl to leave than I am.
"If it's what they want it's practical. Most girls would rather a man they know and have grown up with than an unknown, and it does protect her," she says, "Hopefully you live another twenty years—,"
"At which point she's just past thirty and still marriage eligible and if something happened to just Harry? No, it's best we do find the girls acceptable husbands as they wish," I say, "Unless they want the church but that isn't for everyone."
"No. This way they can have children if they want and if they've an understanding about living their own lives so be it," she says.
"And keep living under our roof for a while, don't know what I'd do without a pack of girls in the house," I say, kissing the top of her head.
"About that," Maud says, slyly.
"You are not," I frown, smiling.
"Yes might be another on the way," she says.
"You are not, how long've you known," I say, catching her in my arms before she keeps walking.
She laughs, "I was thinking I was too old for it but I'm starting to put on weight."
"I don't feel it," I say, sliding a hand down her dress. It is winter she's in thick wool.
"Apparently your children love being born in the fall so who knows this one would come in summer," she says.
I kiss her lips, "Excellent we need another little red haired thing tripping about."
"One of these days a child will look like me," Maud laughs.
Our older children are old enough to just roll their eyes when they learn they're getting a new sibling so that's beautiful. Maud is of course correct and by Christmas time she's fully showing. We don't go to London and the coming child is an excellent excuse to avoid a feast. She really is too far gone to ride. Not that I ever planned on leaving.
Our dates were a bit off, or the baby's early, either way there's another Lancaster girl come spring. This time I stay with Maud, the labor is early possibly because we're idiots, and she goes into labor in the night, waking me. I fetch the midwives and return, fearing for her health. When she's that far gone I tend to spend the night in her room for that reason, though we thought we had another month. Our fifth child the labor is fairly routine and blessedly easy. I'm the first one to hold our apparently full term, perfectly healthy daughter, sticky with blood and crying miserably.
"She's fine," I tell Maud, helping her hold the slick baby, who has a dusting of dark hair. I hold them both in my arms till Maud is cleaned up and more comfortable in bed. Then I go and tell the other children they have a sister. They're all happy even Harry, who I thought might want a brother. Later I learn he legitimately thought Tommy was his brother. Later is when Tommy and Blanche marry and he gets so confused.
Our brood is now Blanche, Emmy, Harry, Joan, and now our precious Isabela, called simply Bell. She's a beautiful child, my milky pale skin and bright blue eyes, but her mother's thick brown hair. She's a quiet baby, and being the youngest immediately her elder sisters' pet.
"Last one and we finally got off red hair," I tease Maud, as we watch this baby sleep.
"She's beautiful," Maud says. Dark long lashes and that soft curling brown hair, she is a precious child.
"Did you two do this to me?" Blanche asks, coming in the nursery.
"We were worse I think, but yes," I say, "I used to come in to your room every couple hours, now I've got a dog to do it."
"Did you need us?" Maud asks, leaning against my chest.
"Emmy asked if 'her' baby is okay," Blanche says, "I said I'd check."
Emmy's eight now, Harry seven. She's taken quite a liking to her baby sister. Joan is glad as well but being five is still more interested in her toys.
"Don't stay up too late," Blanche says, cheekily.
"We likely won't get another newborn to do this with," Maud says.
"Yes, let us stare your sister in peace," I say.
Blanche smirks at me, my own cheeky smile her mother says.
And we are getting another new born to do this very soon. Before little Bell is even sitting up in her cradle, Maud's belly has begun to swell. As close together as Emmy and Harry, we did think we were better than this. Clearly not. She feels fine though so this time we find out organically with a round belly, and not by calling surgeons like lunatics.
"Making it an even six, maybe we'll even get brown eyes," I tease, lying next to Maud in bed. So close to the last and our sixth child she's swollen quickly. "I haven't given you enough daughters it seems."
"Yes apparently," she says, "I was sad thinking Bell was our last."
"Hmm that why you let me back in your bed?" I ask, kissing her belly, like I have with all of them. I want my unborn child to know the sound of my voice.
"Yes, the only reason," Maud smiles.
Amusingly enough, the excuse that Maud is heavily pregnant is no longer a good one to get out of the holidays. Edward sends someone to confirm I'm not lying, which I would but I'm not. So a messenger from Edward shows up and I point at my heavily pregnant wife, and apparently all the children are as sarcastic as I am, they all point at her identically. Anyway the messenger leaves. Edward doesn't dare ask that I send some children he knows that wouldn't work. Edward has maybe three kids now? I don't know it doesn't affect me at all.
Blanche is now in her teens, Emmy is eight, Harry seven, Joan five, and Bell coming up on a year old. I have my own private army of primarily girls occasionally supervised by Tommy who is oldest at nearly twenty. Blanche is a girl version of me, we have identical senses of humor and she's fond of music, she plays the harp with me for hours if we can both mange. She loves her pretty dresses and will sometimes get her sisters to match with her. Emmy is intensely clever, and very self assured, like her mother, she still has no time for dresses or dolls shes like toy swords and Harry. Harry has his mother's and my sweetness, the boy will do anything for any of his siblings, he's not shy, but he's as calm as one of the hounds. If his mother or I need cheering we go to that kid, he's endless smiles. He and Emmy, so close in age, function as a unit. Emmy dresses in boys clothes as it suits her, and the two have been nearly identical since age five. Their mother and I and Blanche can tell them apart. That is it. Their mother and I and Blanche are not historically helpful. They answer to the other's name and everything Maud and I finding it funny does no good.  Joan is my little princess, she's always neat, likes books and music, and the pretty dresses I buy her, and riding on my shoulders. Little Bell walks early and talks, but she's very quiet. A fairy of a child and simply adorable, she doesn't cry much, and hates loud noises, though she claps merrily along when I fiddle for her.
The sixth baby comes into the world the last night of advent. The labor starts after supper and by midnight our daughter is born. This time I stay with the other children who have a long time getting to bed. Blanche volunteers to sit with Harry and Emmy and read to them (Harry still can't read), and I sit with Bell then rock Joan to sleep. Normally their mother does this if I do not, they are all quite distressed at her absence. She was supposed to be in confinement we've kind of started ignoring that since we don't leave the house and there are a lot of children she wants to cuddle.
"All in bed?" Blanche asks, when I come out of Joan's room.
I nod, "Thank you."
"Of course," she hugs me around the waste, "Wake me when the baby comes?"
"You sure?" I ask.
She nods.
"Okay," I kiss the top of her hair, "Yeah, get some sleep."
I go to wait for word and make sure the others don't wake. The nurses are accustomed to my hovering and no longer comment. I'm ushered in with word the child is here.
I cross to the bed. Maud is tired, hair still braided though and face sweaty. She's holding our child.
"How's surprise?" I ask.
She laughs, "Your daughter's been wondering when you'd come meet her."
"Darling," I say, laying a hand on the carefully wrapped bundle. The child looks up at me nearly critically.  I sit down by the side of the bed, "You all right then? They said it was easy."
"It was, she was ready," Maud says, looking over at me, "I'm fine! How are the children?"
"All asleep, Blanche helped me get the double trouble off," I say.
Maud smiles, "Good."
"She said to wake her when the baby's here you want her?" I ask.
"Of course I want our baby!"
I grin, rising to go fetch her. Blanche is sound asleep, in her bed, Legion growls at me, he's lying at the foot of her bed.
"Good dog, that's what you're there for," I say. Then I whistle.
Blanche sits up, immediately wide awake. She sees my face and smiles too.
"They're fine, come meet your sister," I say, holding out a hand. She rushes to my side, wrapping under my arm. I give her a good squeeze. It feels like yesterday I was lying there on the floor of Grosmont praying for this one's safe birth. Tonight our sixth child came into the world.