Blood of Quartz

Chapter 3

Berrigan Keep - Nursery

A wispy fog curled in tendrils around the trees, hiding riverbanks and fencerows in a shroud of softness. Abigail slid her hand along the cool, smooth stone, daydreaming of summer sun and warmth. The dampness of the morning seeped in through the window, touching her skin, and she leaned out, taking in a gulping breath of fresh, earthy air. It was not the same as the sharp salt tang of the sea, but wonderful in its own way.

For several days, men had been streaming into the town, and into the keep. Her uncle Samual had sent out a summons, and soon, she would be travelling back to the coast.

Back to her mother, and father, her sisters. He had promised her she could ride back with the army he was sending to King Nathaniel, and finally leave from Berrigan Keep. She had stayed longer than expected, originally only here as a companion for his wife, Harriet, while she was pregnant.

Harriet, who had left them too soon, bringing her first child into the world.

Abigail would miss the vistas from the Keep, and the forests to walk through, the flowers and the birds chirping in a symphony of sweetness when she gathered morels or berries with the kitchen staff. She didn't need to, but she enjoyed the slow, methodical peace of the task. The forest was such a different place than the sea, dark and secretive. It had become part of her in so many ways, her feet cushioned by moss, the trees whispering their stories when they twisted in the wind. But her heart remained with her family, and she missed them.

Well... All but one piece of her heart.

A squawk from behind her made her turn from the window. Tiny baby hands lifted from the river rush basket, a mountain of linen swaddling slowly being pushed out to the floor. She stooped, and scooped the tiny baby into her arms. Happy gurgling reached a crescendo pitch, tiny frog legs kicking for all they were worth, free from the confines of the tight wrapping.

"And you get to come with me, I hope!" she said, walking in bouncing steps about the room, curling the baby against her chest, humming off-tune to her. How she had come to be so attached to her cousin was unfathomable. Her heart leapt when she looked into her eyes, her soul sung when she fell asleep across her chest.

She just hoped Samual consented. The baby was a girl, and many whispered she was of no use to him. Something to be endured until a male heir could be made. Abigail thought it was rubbish, all of that pompous law. But it was law, and the reality of it was that this child was a burden, even more so because the mother was gone, unable to give more children to the earl.

Abigail sang some nursery songs from her own childhood as she changed out swaddlings, cleaning her with the lavender-infused water kept near the fire. She let tiny hands pull on strands of her hair, tiny bright blue eyes flicking about, taking in the world. How she loved the wonder this child brought to the everyday!

Samual didn't ignore his first child, far from it, and Abigail knew he loved her. He would visit and play peekaboo, but in the quieter moments the miracle of his child was replaced by the grief of his wife's passing. He would never stay long after that. Swallowing away the tears, he would leave before he became overwhelmed.

He was only in his middle twenties, only a few years older than her. So young to be a Lord, so much responsibility, with deep loss piled on top. He should be at his peak, happy and vibrant.

Abigail was fond of her uncle, and grateful to him for his hospitality, but this was no place for a motherless baby, and no place for her if she was to rear it. This child would be better in a cheery home with many others to care for her. Like her family, who would be warm, open, and inviting to a new member. She could only imagine the life this little girl could have if she took her back to her own home, and decided she would request that his daughter come with her, to be raised with her own family.

Samual also needed to name her. It was his duty, and as yet, had not given her one. Abigail had suggested Harriet, but he had just shook his head. "I don't know yet" he would mutter before walking away. For now, Abigail called her Mouse, because of her tiny pink ears and fine dark fluff on the child's head. It would have to do until he could.

A knock at the door, and Cerla, the wet nurse peeked in, smiling when she saw the two of them. Abigail nodded to her, and the older woman gently pulled the child out of her hands, sitting on the stool near the fireplace, immediately setting the child to nurse.

"She's hungry today, no? I heard you up and walking, I figured she might be waking for her breakfast."

"Thank you Cerla. She is," Abigail replied, and sat opposite, letting the fire warm her feet. "We will need to figure out how to feed her when Samual says I can take her with me."

Cerla nodded. Abigail knew Cerla would never leave her home, her other children or her husband, the town's butcher.

"Goat's milk will be fine for her in a month's time. You'll not be leaving before then," Cerla said, tutting and patting the squirming infant at the same time. "You know, his Lordship may not let you take her. Have you spoken with him about this?"

Abigail sighed, and put her chin in her hands, staring into the fire.

"No. I really do need to," she said. "He grieves every time he lays eyes on her. This child needs a happy home, a warm home. Not a distant father with sad memories."

Cerla hummed a small tune, nodding and watching Mouse nurse, not replying. Everyone knew it was for the best, but it was not their decision to make.

They chatted about the day to come, quietly enjoying the few moments of peace before they had to get on with their morning. It was Cerla's job to oversee the kitchens. Abigail would see to it that flowers were in urns about the keep, that the front hallways and visiting quarters had fresh rushes on the floor. She would inspect the draperies in case they needed to be cleaned.

It was hopefully enough to repay her uncle's kindness and kept her busy.

"How many more days before the Duke is due to arrive?" Cerla finally asked as she pulled her overshirt back together, bouncing the child lightly to burp her.

"Soon enough, I hope! He will likely stay long enough for the summons to all be answered, and then we can leave once this business of this army is finished," Abigail replied, standing and stretching. Their respite was over.

"Best we get on with it, then. I have a kitchen to prepare, and you need to speak with his Lordship before the chaos descends." Cerla smiled, and they both laughed. Abigail would miss Cerla, for certain. They had become good friends, bonding over Mouse.

Abigail reached for the long swath of butter yellow dyed cloth hanging on the wall. Cerla helped her wrap up Mouse into the cloth, and then tie it around Abigail, so the child was snugly curled into her breast. Happily full, and burped, she was asleep in an instant.

They shared a happy look over the head of the sleeping child, and Cerla squeezed Abigail's hand.

"She is well done to have you, my lady," Cerla whispered.

And I hope to keep her, Abigail thought as she headed towards her uncle's study.