The Knight and the Dove (56 page)

The word
son
seemed to snap Bracken out of his trance. He moved swiftly then, but with extreme gentleness. He lifted Megan as if she herself were the child and bore his precious bundle carefully to her bed. He bent over her once she was settled but had to wait while she gripped his hand for another pain. When it subsided, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Megan smiled at him in love. “I understand.” Megan stroked his beard until another paroxysm gripped her, and Bracken moved to allow his mother and Helga access.

The remaining time was not long, but to Bracken it felt like hours. It was just before midnight when from his place in his wife’s salon he heard a baby cry. He had been trying to read Megan’s copy of the Psalms and Proverbs. He now set that aside and stood but could move no further. The door was open, and he heard his mother praise God in a loud voice, but he couldn’t make himself walk in.

I have a son,
his heart kept repeating.
I have a son.
It never occurred to him that Megan might not be safe, but not until Joyce called to him could he propel his body forward.

He walked into the room on shaky legs and found little light and even less activity. Megan lay still, her eyes on his as he entered. Joyce sat on a chair near the bed, a small parcel wrapped in her arms. Helga stood on the opposite side of the room, her eyes suspiciously moist.

“How are you?” Bracken asked when he stood by the bed.

“I am well. What do you think of our baby?”

Bracken turned to bend over his mother. He smiled.

“He’s not very big, is he?”

“She,
Bracken,” Joyce told him, and watched his look of astonishment.

“She?” Bracken turned just his head to ask his wife. Megan nodded with a sleepy smile.

“I know ’tis not what you planned, but she is all ours.”

“She?” Bracken now asked of his mother. Joyce chuckled.

“Take her, Bracken; hold her,” Joyce urged. “You will not yearn for a boy.”

It was the best thing Joyce could have suggested. Bracken took the baby in his hands, awkwardly at first, and then moved her with confidence into the light. Her face was bunching up to cry and Bracken chuckled low in his throat.

“Not only have you given me a daughter,” he lovingly accused Megan, “but I find the first time I hold her that she is a termagant.”

Megan laughed as well. “Is she not beautiful? I think she has your chin.”

The baby let out a wail then, but her parents ignored her.

“My chin? You’ve never seen my chin.” Bracken’s bearded face was still turned to Megan.

“But I can tell,” she stated with complete confidence. “Will you bring her here?”

Joyce and Helga exited quietly when Bracken put their daughter in the crook of Megan’s arm and sat on the bed beside her. They looked at her for long minutes and then at one another.

“What shall we call her?”

“I don’t know, Bracken. I had only a boy in mind.”

Bracken troubled his lower lip.

“Gwen is a pretty name.”

“She doesn’t look like Gwen,” Megan told him, her eyes on the baby. “How about Ursula?

Bracken’s nose wrinkled. “I knew an Ursula once. She was an old hag.”

And on the search went. It was a ridiculous time of night to be discussing names, but more than an hour passed before it occurred
to them that a name did not need to be decided upon immediately. Bracken sought his bed with the intention of sleeping through the night. He might not have bothered had he known that the matter would still be decided before morning.

Somewhere around 3:00 a.m. he woke to the sound of the baby crying. When he got to Megan’s room he found the baby lying comfortably at her breast. Bracken stretched out carefully on the bed to watch. Megan’s eyes were closed when it came to him.

“Meredith.”

“What?” she blinked, and then frowned at him.

“Meredith. Do you like the name Meredith?”

Again Megan blinked. “I do,” she said with some surprise. “Indeed, it’s a wonderful name.”

Bracken nodded, well satisfied. “It will be so. Meredith of Hawkings Crest.”

“Do you think she’ll be Mary or Edith?”

“Meredith,” Bracken stated firmly, and Megan agreed. A moment later she looked down to see the baby staring right at her.

“Did you hear that, my darling? You’re our little Meredith. Isn’t that a wonderful name?” Megan pressed a soft kiss to her daughter’s brow and glanced up to find Bracken’s eyes on her. She thought he would have been watching the baby, but in the dim light she could see that he studied her intently.

“I love you,” he said with sudden tenderness, causing tears to rush to Megan’s eyes. “And I have loved you since I stood in the Reverend Mother’s office and knew that I would storm the abbey if that is what it took to get you back.”

“Oh, Bracken,” Megan whispered. “I never knew.”

“’Tis my fault. For far too long I was afraid to let you know you were in my heart.”

“It’s good to know now.”

Bracken leaned to kiss her, and when he moved they both saw that the baby was asleep again. Bracken tenderly lifted little Meredith, and when he was on his feet, called for Helga. When both infant and servant were gone, Bracken went back to the bed.

“Will it disturb you if I join you?”

“No,” Megan assured him. “It’s lonely in here.”

“It was in my room as well.”

Megan moved very carefully as she was still quite tender, but a few minutes later, her head was pillowed on her husband’s chest, his arm wrapped securely around her. She lay very still as the beating of his heart came steadily to her ear. Megan had worked at not holding onto Bracken’s life too tightly, reminding herself always that he belonged to God, but at that moment, she found herself praying that she would hear his heartbeat for years to come.

Meredith needs us both, Father God,
she prayed silently.
If it be Thy will, may we raise her together and show Your love to her and to all who may follow.

Megan then smiled at her own prayer. Meredith was just hours old, and here she was praying for more. What must she be thinking? Megan found it was not a hard question to answer. She was thinking of how much God had already given them. He was sure to have much more in mind, much more indeed.

Epilogue

H
AWKINGS
C
REST
O
CTOBER
1542

W
ORD OF
B
RAKCEN’S ARRIVAL CAME
to Megan, and she swiftly passed baby Gwen into Helga’s waiting arms. She spoke a word to the other children, who obediently remained upstairs, their beautiful dark eyes watching their mother exit.

Megan ran downstairs to the great room, but Bracken was not fast enough and Megan met him in the keep. He put an arm around her and swept her into the newly built chapel. When he found it empty, he pulled her up against him and found her lips with his own.

“I missed you,” he said when at last they could speak.

“And I you. Bracken,” Megan could wait no longer, “is it true?”

Bracken’s eyes closed in agony. “’Tis true. Henry has found Catherine Howard guilty of misconduct and had her executed.”

Megan let her head fall forward against his chest. “This is the fifth wife, Bracken; how much more will our king demand?”

“He is obsessed. There is already talk of Catherine’s replacement.” Megan moved to look at him. Her eyes were sad. Bracken reached to touch her cheek.

“How are you and the children?”

“We are well.”

“How about young Stephen’s touch of flu?”

“He is also well. If activity means anything, he’s a specimen of health.”

“I saw my brother Stephen in London. He talked of coming here to visit.”

Megan shook her head. “He’s not been, and I can’t say as I’m sorry.” Her tone was teasing. “He spoils the children terribly when he’s here, especially young Stephen when the other children are not looking.”

“Now I wonder why that is.” Bracken drew the words out, and duke and duchess smiled at one another.

They both loved remembering the birth of young Stephen, now eight, and the rebirth of the older Stephen. Megan had been far along in the pregnancy when they’d made a trip to Stone Lake Castle. Stephen had accompanied them.

It was not the best time to go, but Megan’s mother had just given birth to a baby daughter. Because Annora was doing so well, Vincent had begged them to come and meet Megan’s baby sister, Mercy. Vincent and Annora had named her such because of the mercy God had shown them in the way He worked in their lives and marriage. It was on the way home from Stone Lake that Megan’s pains began. Stephen had never been so frightened in all of his life as Bracken and Helga prepared Megan to give birth in the forest.

Bracken and Megan were confident, calm even, but Stephen nearly came undone. Megan did not understand what was so frightening, but when Bracken left them for a time, Stephen began to talk.

“What if you die?” There were tears in the young man’s voice. Finally Megan understood.

“Then I’ll live forever with God,” she told him serenely.

“Oh, Megan.” Stephen’s tone was tortured. “To have such assurance must be a wondrous thing.”

“You can have it as well, Stephen.”

“Nay, Meg, not I.” His look was heartrending.

“Yes, Stephen, you. Trust me. I would never lie to you.”

The words were a turning point for Stephen. He respected Megan as he did few people. He was ready to listen for the first time, and by the time Megan’s baby was born, Stephen was a new creature. It was simply a normal course of events to name the child after Bracken’s brother.

“And what of little Arik and Gwen?”

Megan pulled a wry face.

“Arik has it in his head that he must have a sword for his fourth birthday next month, and he can talk of little else. Of course, big Arik’s encouraging him in this pursuit. Meredith has experienced a growth
period and is almost as tall as I am. Gwen has a tooth in her mouth and is still spitting up all over me on a regular basis.”

Megan was smiling and Bracken laughed at his wife’s description of their brood. He had been away for only a month, but so much had occurred. Indeed, not just in his family. England itself was changing before their very eyes.

“Come, Bracken,” Megan now urged. “The children are most anxious.”

He did not need to be asked twice. Within minutes Bracken’s children were swarming him, and he held and kissed each one in turn. He couldn’t stop staring at them. They all seemed so much taller and more grownup. He had two hours with them before the time grew late and they were ushered off to bed with promises of a special outing in the morning.

Bracken then ate a hasty meal and rushed to be alone with Megan as soon as they were able. They sat before the fire in the bedchamber for many minutes, not speaking but getting silently reacquainted.

Finally Megan said, “What is to become of us, Bracken? In truth, I am frightened.”

“There is no need. God makes kings, Megan, and He is still in control of England. The monasteries have been dissolved, and Henry’s push to restore what he calls the true church of England is crushing many innocent people beneath his political heels, but our God is the king of the universe.”