Page 7 of A Second Chance for Carys
To her surprise, she herself did not feel out of place at Sheridan Manor. After her initial doubts about living in England, she had accustomed herself very well to her new surroundings. Many Welsh people felt hatred toward the English invaders, and she could understand the feeling to a certain extent. Some of themhadabused their power. But, in truth, being here was just like being at home. Once you got to know them, you saw that the people here were just like the people she’d known all her life. Some, like Matthew andConnor, were good men and loving husbands, others like Avice and Richard were trustworthy friends. Some like the groom, the master of hounds and the washerwoman were conceited, dull as rain and with a penchant for gossip just like the baker, the miller and the brewer’s wife had been in her village. There was the odd aggressive one, but really how was that any different from, say Morgan or Dafydd, who’d been all too ready to use their fists?
Mostly, they were just like her old friends and acquaintances had been, and now that she could at last communicate with them, she fit right in.
The similarities between the two peoples made the conflict between their two countries all the more ridiculous. Carys saw in ways she had not seen before how it was all just about the greed of one man, the King of England. Most likely, his subjects would have been happy left to their own devices.
“Do you want to tell me what is troubling you?”
Branwen examined her nails in an attempt at avoiding having to give an answer, but Carys knew her daughter had always welcomed the opportunity to share her burden when asked. When she finally looked at her, her eyes were filled with tears.
“I’ve started to bleed. Again.” Unsure what to say, Carys waited. “Ah, Mam, Matthew and I have been married for months, more than half a year already and my womb has yet to quicken. I thought it would have happened by now, that I would get to hold my child in my arms in the new year, but nothing is happening. What if we can’t have children?” She shook her head. “It’s not as if we weren’t trying either.”
“No.”
This, Carys knew all too well. There was no mistaking the looks her daughter and her husband exchanged whenever they thought no one was looking. And, of course, there had been the scene she and James had interrupted shortly after their arrivalat Sheridan Manor. No, Branwen and Matthew were doing all that was required to ensure a babe was conceived. That was not the problem.
Wasthere even a problem? She dearly hoped not.
Carys bit her bottom lip. She had always been there for Branwen but unfortunately, in this instance, she wasn’t sure what to tell her. The pain of wondering if you would ever get to bear your own children, of waiting for your courses every month, their arrival betraying the fact that life had not blossomed in your womb despite all your prayers, she knew all too well. How had she not guessed the lack of children would be weighing on her daughter’s mind? What happy bride did not want to start a family with the man she loved?
“Give it time. Your life was turned upside down when you met your husband, and much has happened since your wedding. You’ve left your country and you’ll need to adapt to your new environment. Your body will need time to adjust to all the changes. It’s been less than year, and you’re still young, surely there is no cause for concern yet.”
“I know, but…As you know, for years I took herbs to prevent conception,” Branwen reminded her in a deathly voice. Thinking back to her difficult past was always painful. “What if the effect was permanent? What if after so long fighting to prevent a man’s seed from taking root in it, my body had?—”
Carys stopped her with a hand on the cheek. Unfortunately, she knew all about the reasons her daughter had been forced to protect herself from birthing children imposed on her by men who’d gone to her thinking only of their pleasure, and she had to admit that perhaps her fears were not unfounded.
But fretting about it would accomplish nothing. She had learned it the hard way. Better to seek advice from people who knew than struggle in her own.
“Thinking like this will do you no good whatsoever. I’m certain your body is not damaged, but perhaps it needs some time to rid itself of the effect the plants had on it.” Now that she thought about it, it would not be surprising if this were the case. “We can go and ask a midwife’s advice tomorrow if you wish. Children will come in time, and if they don’t, then you will make your peace with it, like I did. The important thing is for you to be happy. Are you happy?”
The question was unnecessary, and Branwen did not even hesitate. She straightened up, a defiant gleam in her eyes.
“Matthew is the man I never thought to find. I love him so.”
“Is he worried about you not having conceived yet?” Was that what the problem was? Was her husband putting pressure on her, talking about the heir he wanted, making her miserable? Carys doubted it, and Branwen’s horrified expression was enough to tell her that was not the issue.
“He’s perfect. I know he wants children, but he’s never addressed me with a single word of reproach. Esyllt told me she got with child the first night she spent with Connor, and here I am, still waiting.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she bit her bottom lip. “I cannot help but think there is something wrong with me.”
“There is nothing wrong with you.” Carys drew her daughter into her arms the way she had when she’d been a child in need of comfort. “Now, no more crying. This is no one’s fault and no cause for concern. We’ll go and see Mistress Ivy, the village healer, tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Branwen said through her sobs.
“I’m sure you’ll soon tell me you’ve missed your courses and I know everyone at Sheridan Manor will rejoice when your first babe is born.”
An image of James Mortimer came to her mind. Why him rather than Richard, Matthew’s father, she wondered? Indeed,technically, the carpenter would be the babe’s grandfather, not him, even if she knew the steward had been a father figure for Matthew during his childhood.
Probably because she jumped on every opportunity to think of him.
He’d been gone for months, so long that she was starting to wonder if he would ever come back to Sheridan Manor. She had not dared broach the topic with anyone, not even with Branwen, who might be privy to what was going on, because what he did should be of no interest to her.
But try as she may, she could not get him out of her head.
The moment she had found herself draped on top of him was branded in her mind, which was little wonder. Only lovers found themselves in such a position. He had felt so strong underneath her…how would he feeloverher?
No, not again! She had to stop thinking about him in such terms.
Clearing her throat, she squeezed Branwen’s hands. “Be ready at dawn, we’ll go pay the healer a visit.”
Winter came and went, and soon enough, the snow began to melt.
