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“I have four sisters,” Hastings said against his throat before she fell asleep some time later.
And I will have to dower all of them, Severin thought, then smiled. He had never before had sisters and now he had four of them. He decided then that he wanted them to come back to Oxborough. He wanted to be surrounded by family. He wanted to be responsible for them, to protect them. Aye, he liked the thought of four little sisters.
“This is my home. I cannot leave Rosehaven.”
Lady Janet was serene, calm, all those tranquil and even-tempered qualities Hastings didn’t have and would probably never have.
She sat forward, saying earnestly, “Mother, we cannot allow you to remain here. I have found you after nearly ten years. I have found my sisters. You must come back to Oxborough. It is your first home.”
“I do not want the memories that would be there, lurking, waiting to hurt me.”
“There are no more bad memories. Severin cast them all out when he came.”
Severin looked back and forth between mother and daughter. He knew what Hastings would look like now in her older years and it pleased him. Ah, but he prayed she wouldn’t become the placid woman her mother was. No, he wanted her passion, her laughter, her yelling when she wanted to kill him. He wanted their children.
He prayed he would never see Marjorie again. He would never tell Hastings that he had once come close to taking her. It was that second night when he’d tied Hastings by that damnable rope to Edgar the wolfhound. But he hadn’t gone with Marjorie. He had looked over at his sleeping wife, her head against Edgar’s neck, and had managed to deny himself. The next morning it had been easier. Then Hastings had seduced him.
A wife seducing her husband. Surely it did not happen all that often. But she had. He swallowed, remembering that afternoon spent in the forest. It had left only her in his mind.
“I know!”
He was jerked out of his thoughts at Harlette’s shout. Trist was wrapped around her skinny neck, but she was grinning widely.
“Mother does not want to leave her gardens.”
“But we want her to,” Marella said, rubbing Trist’s chin just as Severin had showed her.
“That’s right,” Matilda said, sidling up to Severin. “We don’t want Mother to give all her time to her flowers. We want her to give her time to us.”
Normandy stood there, arms folded over her chest. She was a beautiful girl and would soon grow to be a beautiful woman. She would, Severin thought, grow to look just like Hastings.
“Mother,” Normandy said very slowly, very calmly. Completely unlike Hastings, Severin thought. “I agree with my sisters. You spend too many of your hours plucking at your blooms. We learned that we only have you in the winter. This isn’t good. We have spoken of it and would like to return to Oxborough. Our brother”—she nodded to Severin—“has agreed to let you have two gardens within the inner bailey.”
Severin had agreed to no such thing. He said without hesitation, “It is true, my lady. Your blooms are welcome next to Hastings’s. She must needs still learn from you. I saw that her columbine wasn’t what it should be. Her lupine isn’t as vivid as yours.”
Lady Janet looked at each of her daughters in turn. Then she frowned at Hastings. “You, my daughter, are the mistress of Oxborough. I fear I could not settle to be an adjunct to your household. I have controlled Rosehaven entirely for nearly ten years, since your father was not often here. Even when he was here, his mind was not on castle matters. I am used to doing things as I wish them to be done. I am needed here.”
The four girls sighed and looked wistfully at Severin and Hastings.
Two days later a compromise was reached. Lady Janet and her daughters would spend the winter months at Oxborough. “After all,” Harlette said, “we all flourish in the winter, unlike the flowers. We will have her all to ourselves.”
“I want to be with Trist,” Normandy said, rubbing her cheek against Trist’s chin.
“What about me?” Hastings asked to no one in particular.
“You will have your husband,” Severin said. He added to his mother-in-law, “You will wish to be with Hastings when she births our first child this winter.”
Lady Janet’s eyes widened. She clapped her hands and shouted
, “I will have a grandson or granddaughter who will not be named after William the Conqueror or his wife or his mother.”
“Mother,” Marella said. “I am named after a horse. But I have accepted it. It was William’s favorite mare. Father once told me that not only did William love that mare, he always rode her when he visited Matilda. He said that William would say that the mare’s scent reminded him of Matilda’s.”
“How very odd,” Hastings said. “Surely he didn’t mean it like that.”
Marella shrugged. “Father said that Bishop Odo wanted the mare but William would not give her up.”
Lady Janet flung out her hands. There was, Severin saw, dirt beneath her fingernails. “Enough, Marella. I just wish Severin to promise me that he will not name his son Odo or Rolf or Grayson, the young man who was William’s groom. He came to a very bad end.”
