Post by Men of Skye on May 8, 2011 4:27:35 GMT -6
Five weeks passed since the birth of James and Rebbeka's daughter and still they had not decided upon a name for her. She was a tiny, blonde and already lovely; like a little newborn Rebbeka. The couple sat at the breakfast table, along with their son Albert, while the new baby slept, guarded by, the now happy with her employment, Nanette.
James realized how dangerous childbirth was… for he had lost his own mother in childbirth. And he had agonized thru the nine months… thru the childbearing night… A night he tried to be stoic… but in the solitude of a lonely room, his emotions burst forth. It was one time, that the man who was deemed with a heart of iron, would show a fault in his stoic character… but no one would see, nor know about.
Over the past five weeks, James displayed traits of being fair between siblings, dividing his time equally. When Beka would need to feed the babe, he would bide his time with Albert… if he was not in Ducal duties.
"It would have been so easy if the child were a boy; we could have called him after you or your father, you know?" Beka broke the bread into tiny bits, not eating even the tiniest morsel, distracted but the subject of their conversation. "Or even after my Auntie Ava's all time favorite lover." She had been reading the old woman's journals during confinement before the child came, and early at that.
James chewed the meat, but laughed at Beka’s statement… but canted his head in question and swallowed at the mention of Ava’s lover. “Her favorite lover? Who?”
"Thor is a good name." Albert offered, from his end of the table, cutting through a poached egg with a steak knife, pretending he was slaughtering an evil enemy.
James laughed as Albert blurted out his choice of name. “Aye son, would be grand for a lad, but for a lass, it might scare off suitable suitor later in her life.”
"Her lover. A nice name for a boy. William Maubry." Beka watched James' reaction to that news. "Really! You ought to read that particular journal; can it be the one and the same man?"
"Valkrie! That's a good name for a girl! " Albert had been listening to stories from the kitchen help, again, it seems.
James laughed again, his hand slapping the table… his head shaking slightly. “Ah my beloved son… such a politician you are…” His hand reached for the boy’s full head of darkening hair. “Valkrie is grand too son… but alas, we must consider the lass’s future… she must have a name as respectable as your Mother’s… Like Anne, Mary, Katherine… Aidana, Deidra, Ghleanna, or Neala… Good strong English or Gaelic names…” he smiled… “You are named Albert, to soothe the French side…” he winked at Beka. “Now we must appease the English or Gaelic flavors…” Then he rose and moved to Beka, his hands placed upon her shoulders… he leans and whispers in her ear. “Maybe we should love more often… to produce enough children to soothe every nationality…” He was about to grope her breasts when Anne interrupted.
"There's a caller here, Yer Grace." Anne, from the kitchen, came to their dining hall doorway, bowing quickly, while wringing her hands, anxiously. "She come to the kitchen door but I think maybe best to see her in here, sir. Say she is kin."
James looked oddly at Anne, then to Beka. It was definitely a queried expression upon his face. “Kin? Show her in, Anne…”
Behind of Annie, there stood a tall woman, pale face, and long almost-white hair in a braid over one shoulder, draped over her dark brown leather jacket. "Let me talk to them." She shoved on past the concerned Annie and walked up to James and held out a hand as if to shake hands. Her clothing was leather, long tight leggings covered at least at the top with a skirt made of leather ribbons, like a Roman soldier of old. Heavy hobnailed work boots clunked when she walked into the room. Her face and hands were scrubbed clean but her neck and wrists left no doubt she had not bathed for months. That and her odor. Beka gagged and covered her mouth. Had this person been at sea for Lord knows how long?
One looked to Beka, then James looked at the approaching woman. No protocol befitting his station, nor clothing of the same… he was tempted to call for the guards. A handshake? Of a noble? Of the King’s own brother? This took James aback. And the smell?!! But James was silent.
"Duke? I am Aurilla, your Mother-in-Law; I come to meet you and see my grandchildren." She stood there, expecting a more warm welcome than this state of shock. "James! Come here and give you Mum-in-Law a big kiss!" Aurilla closed the distance between them, her arms wide open and welcoming.
The man of little expression showed sure signs of surprise by now. Duke? Not yer grace? Oh my God, did this… woman… of which he now questioned the gender… have no culture? And now she called him by name? Even the guards edged closer… yet waited for their Master’s sign. Mother-in-Law??? It was as if his chest was crushed… he could not breathe, nor speak.
Rebbeka looked again and she did recognize the woman from somewhere, could it be, since she was three or four, but it seems there she stood. Beka managed to squeak out a very tiny child like word of greeting, "Mommy?"
The woman embraced James, her grip as powerful as a small man… and it was difficult to overcome the smell, for the woman may not have bathed in weeks…or even months. His fingers barely tapped her back, as he looked to Beka for assistance.
"It is a real Valkrie! Here in our house!" Albert was impressed but not in the fact that here stood his only living Grandparent.
Albert’s comment sent Anne and the rest of the staff out of the room, almost in full laughter… and pity the poor guards who had to stifle any hint of humorous appearances. As for James… he just swallowed… “Mother?” then looking at Beka once more.
"This is your Grandmother." Rebbeka did recognize the voice and the way Aurilla moved, how she swung her long braid, the smile. "Mother, this is our son Albert; our daughter you will meet tonight, at dinner. You will dine with us, of course?" Deep inside, Beka hoped the woman would simply turn and walk out of their lives and that be that. Logically, of course, that was not going to happen.
The boy stood and bowed to Rilla, as if she were a queen for he had no idea what rank a Grandparent had in life. As for title, that confused his reply so reasoning she had to be at least an equal to his parents, Albert said, "Your Grace."
Then an idea struck the child and he swerved his head to his parents' direction. "That is it! Name my sister after both yourselves. How about 'Grace'? It is English as well." Albert had been learning several languages, with Nanette's guidance.
"Please visit for a few days, if your schedule allows. Annie will show you to the Rose Room, that you may be refreshed from you journey before we dine. There is so much to discuss." Yeah, right. Like where have you been for almost all of my live, Beka thought but did not voice.
"First I will kiss my son in law! Tis custom among my people." There were other customs Aurilla was not going to mention to him yet, not until she was ready to head off back to sea, heading for Skye.
James was shocked… at the woman’s appearance… and her smell… How on Earth, or in Heaven, could Rebbeka Marteau come from this woman?
He looked at Albert when he bowed… and called her “yer Grace…” and James swallowed again. “Dinner??? She’d better bathe first…” He thought. Had Beka truly lost her mind? And James canted his head and gave her a look… good thing Aurilla was not looking…
Visit for a few days??? James heart sank… he prayed none would come visit… for this woman could be his undoing… The Northmen would invade just because the woman was upwind of them!!!!
And Aurilla caught James ever so unsuspecting as she turned and kissed him… and even a bit more than motherly… James eyes shot wide open, and his hands flailed… as if to get Beka to come save him from the dragon. And when Aurilla turned to look at Beka, James quickly wiped his mouth upon his sleeve… Ewww, he could even smell the stench upon his own clothes…
“M’Ladies… please excuse me, I shall go to my quarters before dinner to freshen up… Beka darling… maybe Mother would also like to freshen up… can you show her to her room…” James had to desperately play the part of a dutiful son-in-law…
"We will see you in the dining hall, then." Rebbeka smiled over one shoulder to James, making a wrinkled "eeeww" face as she gently guided Aurilla to the hallway; gingerly touching only her fingertips to the woman's grungy jacket shoulder. "Come, Mother. We have the luxury of deep bathing tubs here at the castle. There will be warm water enough for washing and another fill for soaking. I have made some new bath soaps and would like your opinion of several types." The first soap Aurilla was going to receive was a good stout lye soap. That would deal with all those skipped baths!
"Such a nice home." Beka's mother paused as she slowly entered the Rose Room, decorated for feminine visitors and already the maids were attending the bath, filling it with pail after pail of steamy clean water. "I could use a wash up, I suspect. Days at the building site were so long, I just came back to the inn, ate, drank and fell asleep until the next workday." She began to get into the spirit of the ease and comfort of the du’Chere home.
James retreated to their quarters… and ordered a bath, and his clothing destroyed… The stench was awful upon the woman… and James’ first impression of his mother-in-law was that she was a cretin… a simpleton. When the bath was readied, James ordered his men of the privy to scrub him, in order to remove all remnants of the woman.
"Such a man!" Aurilla sank into the warm water, her clothing off for a good cleaning, thanks to an expert laundress or two. "What did the Navigator say when you wed this one? There was a ship captain, as well, too?"
“Father's name was Aubrey, Aubrey Riggs. Mother! Did you call him by his profession or his name when you were together?" Beka said in a light jesting tone, but she meant every word. “And the Captain, Jan Reikwal, was with father when their ship was lost at sea; I lost them both at one time." She continued to lay out a gown and accessories for her mother, choosing some of her own wardrobe and some donated by the housekeeper's; especially the shoes. Rilla was a much taller lady and had large feet.
"Let Pearl wash your hair, Mom. She has such talent with hairdressing; she does mine all the time." The Duchess was generous with praise for good servants, which only made them all the better. Pearl took the task to heart, giving the long light mane of Rilla's a good scrub and finishing with fine conditioning oils and scents, before drying and making the tendrils left over from the updo into curls.
Later in the day, after a nice relaxing afternoon chatting and resting, the women headed to the dining table, with little Albert their escort. James sat at the head of his own table, and had the eye of everyone present. Especially the transformed to civilized lady Mother-in-Law.
James had sat down at his table, waiting patiently for the others to join them. When Beka, Rilla, and Albert walked in, he stood up. With a wave of his hand, he spoke, as would any dutiful son-in-law… “Come Mother, Wife… join me…” then he sat back down. Well, Rilla was not the most couth woman he knew, but she had cleaned up quite well… far be it over the first meeting. But if knew what was next, he would have left.
"Dear James, for we are kin and I cannot be such a stickler for forms at home, eh?" From some forgotten nitch of her brain, Aurilla dragged out good table manners, well except for that leaning into her son-in-law's space.
All were seated, to include the lead servants, as was the custom in the Gaelic Nations, and James, being the Lord of the Manor, gave the signal to begin eating. Table conversation was the usual, with all averting away from the habits and likes of Lady Aurilla. When Rilla spoke, James took a bite of the roast beef and he nodded.
"James, I come to honor the custom of my people; when a daughter has a newborn child, her mother takes her place, you know, until the young woman can do her duty once more. Therefore, here I am." Her meaning was all too clear as Rilla gave a come hither glance over the roast beef and gravy boat. "No need to find a meantime wench; you have a mother in law. Tis the custom."
But when the woman spoke again… James tried to swallow… but only managed to choke… Pieces of chewed meat were spit out uncontrollably as he gasped for air… his sea-green eyes veered to the woman in shocked. This woman, twice his age, the mother of his wife, and grandmother to his children, offered her body unto her son-in-law. As a custom no less. Flabbergasted, he could only choke… and his eyes sought his wife for help.
"Mother! I have never heard of such a thing!" Beka set her table knife down with a thunk, taking care not to have a weapon in hand when her blood boiled to this point. She would have liked to sink that knife into Aurilla, clean to the hilt!
"All I can say is that it is the custom and let us say… The peaches are still in season". Rilla told him. This was not the mother Beka had imagined, no way, this crude forward...um… bad woman.
OMG! She did not venture unto such notions. And the peaches comment sent James into a full-blown choking situation… Now he rose and sat in his chair, choking, his hand at his throat, gasping for air… If there was a time for TMI, it was now… not centuries later !!! Pieces of roast beef were splattered all over the table, but such an inhale of air as James took, brought a lodged piece far too great for his throat. His face was red, his eyes watery… this was the end, he thought. His mother-in-law had propositioned her son-in-law. Life was at an end, or so he thought.
James realized how dangerous childbirth was… for he had lost his own mother in childbirth. And he had agonized thru the nine months… thru the childbearing night… A night he tried to be stoic… but in the solitude of a lonely room, his emotions burst forth. It was one time, that the man who was deemed with a heart of iron, would show a fault in his stoic character… but no one would see, nor know about.
Over the past five weeks, James displayed traits of being fair between siblings, dividing his time equally. When Beka would need to feed the babe, he would bide his time with Albert… if he was not in Ducal duties.
"It would have been so easy if the child were a boy; we could have called him after you or your father, you know?" Beka broke the bread into tiny bits, not eating even the tiniest morsel, distracted but the subject of their conversation. "Or even after my Auntie Ava's all time favorite lover." She had been reading the old woman's journals during confinement before the child came, and early at that.
James chewed the meat, but laughed at Beka’s statement… but canted his head in question and swallowed at the mention of Ava’s lover. “Her favorite lover? Who?”
"Thor is a good name." Albert offered, from his end of the table, cutting through a poached egg with a steak knife, pretending he was slaughtering an evil enemy.
James laughed as Albert blurted out his choice of name. “Aye son, would be grand for a lad, but for a lass, it might scare off suitable suitor later in her life.”
"Her lover. A nice name for a boy. William Maubry." Beka watched James' reaction to that news. "Really! You ought to read that particular journal; can it be the one and the same man?"
"Valkrie! That's a good name for a girl! " Albert had been listening to stories from the kitchen help, again, it seems.
James laughed again, his hand slapping the table… his head shaking slightly. “Ah my beloved son… such a politician you are…” His hand reached for the boy’s full head of darkening hair. “Valkrie is grand too son… but alas, we must consider the lass’s future… she must have a name as respectable as your Mother’s… Like Anne, Mary, Katherine… Aidana, Deidra, Ghleanna, or Neala… Good strong English or Gaelic names…” he smiled… “You are named Albert, to soothe the French side…” he winked at Beka. “Now we must appease the English or Gaelic flavors…” Then he rose and moved to Beka, his hands placed upon her shoulders… he leans and whispers in her ear. “Maybe we should love more often… to produce enough children to soothe every nationality…” He was about to grope her breasts when Anne interrupted.
"There's a caller here, Yer Grace." Anne, from the kitchen, came to their dining hall doorway, bowing quickly, while wringing her hands, anxiously. "She come to the kitchen door but I think maybe best to see her in here, sir. Say she is kin."
James looked oddly at Anne, then to Beka. It was definitely a queried expression upon his face. “Kin? Show her in, Anne…”
Behind of Annie, there stood a tall woman, pale face, and long almost-white hair in a braid over one shoulder, draped over her dark brown leather jacket. "Let me talk to them." She shoved on past the concerned Annie and walked up to James and held out a hand as if to shake hands. Her clothing was leather, long tight leggings covered at least at the top with a skirt made of leather ribbons, like a Roman soldier of old. Heavy hobnailed work boots clunked when she walked into the room. Her face and hands were scrubbed clean but her neck and wrists left no doubt she had not bathed for months. That and her odor. Beka gagged and covered her mouth. Had this person been at sea for Lord knows how long?
One looked to Beka, then James looked at the approaching woman. No protocol befitting his station, nor clothing of the same… he was tempted to call for the guards. A handshake? Of a noble? Of the King’s own brother? This took James aback. And the smell?!! But James was silent.
"Duke? I am Aurilla, your Mother-in-Law; I come to meet you and see my grandchildren." She stood there, expecting a more warm welcome than this state of shock. "James! Come here and give you Mum-in-Law a big kiss!" Aurilla closed the distance between them, her arms wide open and welcoming.
The man of little expression showed sure signs of surprise by now. Duke? Not yer grace? Oh my God, did this… woman… of which he now questioned the gender… have no culture? And now she called him by name? Even the guards edged closer… yet waited for their Master’s sign. Mother-in-Law??? It was as if his chest was crushed… he could not breathe, nor speak.
Rebbeka looked again and she did recognize the woman from somewhere, could it be, since she was three or four, but it seems there she stood. Beka managed to squeak out a very tiny child like word of greeting, "Mommy?"
The woman embraced James, her grip as powerful as a small man… and it was difficult to overcome the smell, for the woman may not have bathed in weeks…or even months. His fingers barely tapped her back, as he looked to Beka for assistance.
"It is a real Valkrie! Here in our house!" Albert was impressed but not in the fact that here stood his only living Grandparent.
Albert’s comment sent Anne and the rest of the staff out of the room, almost in full laughter… and pity the poor guards who had to stifle any hint of humorous appearances. As for James… he just swallowed… “Mother?” then looking at Beka once more.
"This is your Grandmother." Rebbeka did recognize the voice and the way Aurilla moved, how she swung her long braid, the smile. "Mother, this is our son Albert; our daughter you will meet tonight, at dinner. You will dine with us, of course?" Deep inside, Beka hoped the woman would simply turn and walk out of their lives and that be that. Logically, of course, that was not going to happen.
The boy stood and bowed to Rilla, as if she were a queen for he had no idea what rank a Grandparent had in life. As for title, that confused his reply so reasoning she had to be at least an equal to his parents, Albert said, "Your Grace."
Then an idea struck the child and he swerved his head to his parents' direction. "That is it! Name my sister after both yourselves. How about 'Grace'? It is English as well." Albert had been learning several languages, with Nanette's guidance.
"Please visit for a few days, if your schedule allows. Annie will show you to the Rose Room, that you may be refreshed from you journey before we dine. There is so much to discuss." Yeah, right. Like where have you been for almost all of my live, Beka thought but did not voice.
"First I will kiss my son in law! Tis custom among my people." There were other customs Aurilla was not going to mention to him yet, not until she was ready to head off back to sea, heading for Skye.
James was shocked… at the woman’s appearance… and her smell… How on Earth, or in Heaven, could Rebbeka Marteau come from this woman?
He looked at Albert when he bowed… and called her “yer Grace…” and James swallowed again. “Dinner??? She’d better bathe first…” He thought. Had Beka truly lost her mind? And James canted his head and gave her a look… good thing Aurilla was not looking…
Visit for a few days??? James heart sank… he prayed none would come visit… for this woman could be his undoing… The Northmen would invade just because the woman was upwind of them!!!!
And Aurilla caught James ever so unsuspecting as she turned and kissed him… and even a bit more than motherly… James eyes shot wide open, and his hands flailed… as if to get Beka to come save him from the dragon. And when Aurilla turned to look at Beka, James quickly wiped his mouth upon his sleeve… Ewww, he could even smell the stench upon his own clothes…
“M’Ladies… please excuse me, I shall go to my quarters before dinner to freshen up… Beka darling… maybe Mother would also like to freshen up… can you show her to her room…” James had to desperately play the part of a dutiful son-in-law…
"We will see you in the dining hall, then." Rebbeka smiled over one shoulder to James, making a wrinkled "eeeww" face as she gently guided Aurilla to the hallway; gingerly touching only her fingertips to the woman's grungy jacket shoulder. "Come, Mother. We have the luxury of deep bathing tubs here at the castle. There will be warm water enough for washing and another fill for soaking. I have made some new bath soaps and would like your opinion of several types." The first soap Aurilla was going to receive was a good stout lye soap. That would deal with all those skipped baths!
"Such a nice home." Beka's mother paused as she slowly entered the Rose Room, decorated for feminine visitors and already the maids were attending the bath, filling it with pail after pail of steamy clean water. "I could use a wash up, I suspect. Days at the building site were so long, I just came back to the inn, ate, drank and fell asleep until the next workday." She began to get into the spirit of the ease and comfort of the du’Chere home.
James retreated to their quarters… and ordered a bath, and his clothing destroyed… The stench was awful upon the woman… and James’ first impression of his mother-in-law was that she was a cretin… a simpleton. When the bath was readied, James ordered his men of the privy to scrub him, in order to remove all remnants of the woman.
"Such a man!" Aurilla sank into the warm water, her clothing off for a good cleaning, thanks to an expert laundress or two. "What did the Navigator say when you wed this one? There was a ship captain, as well, too?"
“Father's name was Aubrey, Aubrey Riggs. Mother! Did you call him by his profession or his name when you were together?" Beka said in a light jesting tone, but she meant every word. “And the Captain, Jan Reikwal, was with father when their ship was lost at sea; I lost them both at one time." She continued to lay out a gown and accessories for her mother, choosing some of her own wardrobe and some donated by the housekeeper's; especially the shoes. Rilla was a much taller lady and had large feet.
"Let Pearl wash your hair, Mom. She has such talent with hairdressing; she does mine all the time." The Duchess was generous with praise for good servants, which only made them all the better. Pearl took the task to heart, giving the long light mane of Rilla's a good scrub and finishing with fine conditioning oils and scents, before drying and making the tendrils left over from the updo into curls.
Later in the day, after a nice relaxing afternoon chatting and resting, the women headed to the dining table, with little Albert their escort. James sat at the head of his own table, and had the eye of everyone present. Especially the transformed to civilized lady Mother-in-Law.
James had sat down at his table, waiting patiently for the others to join them. When Beka, Rilla, and Albert walked in, he stood up. With a wave of his hand, he spoke, as would any dutiful son-in-law… “Come Mother, Wife… join me…” then he sat back down. Well, Rilla was not the most couth woman he knew, but she had cleaned up quite well… far be it over the first meeting. But if knew what was next, he would have left.
"Dear James, for we are kin and I cannot be such a stickler for forms at home, eh?" From some forgotten nitch of her brain, Aurilla dragged out good table manners, well except for that leaning into her son-in-law's space.
All were seated, to include the lead servants, as was the custom in the Gaelic Nations, and James, being the Lord of the Manor, gave the signal to begin eating. Table conversation was the usual, with all averting away from the habits and likes of Lady Aurilla. When Rilla spoke, James took a bite of the roast beef and he nodded.
"James, I come to honor the custom of my people; when a daughter has a newborn child, her mother takes her place, you know, until the young woman can do her duty once more. Therefore, here I am." Her meaning was all too clear as Rilla gave a come hither glance over the roast beef and gravy boat. "No need to find a meantime wench; you have a mother in law. Tis the custom."
But when the woman spoke again… James tried to swallow… but only managed to choke… Pieces of chewed meat were spit out uncontrollably as he gasped for air… his sea-green eyes veered to the woman in shocked. This woman, twice his age, the mother of his wife, and grandmother to his children, offered her body unto her son-in-law. As a custom no less. Flabbergasted, he could only choke… and his eyes sought his wife for help.
"Mother! I have never heard of such a thing!" Beka set her table knife down with a thunk, taking care not to have a weapon in hand when her blood boiled to this point. She would have liked to sink that knife into Aurilla, clean to the hilt!
"All I can say is that it is the custom and let us say… The peaches are still in season". Rilla told him. This was not the mother Beka had imagined, no way, this crude forward...um… bad woman.
OMG! She did not venture unto such notions. And the peaches comment sent James into a full-blown choking situation… Now he rose and sat in his chair, choking, his hand at his throat, gasping for air… If there was a time for TMI, it was now… not centuries later !!! Pieces of roast beef were splattered all over the table, but such an inhale of air as James took, brought a lodged piece far too great for his throat. His face was red, his eyes watery… this was the end, he thought. His mother-in-law had propositioned her son-in-law. Life was at an end, or so he thought.