I want to thank everyone you has reviewed thus far. This is a huge undertaking. At this point we are 2 years in and we are on Chapter 10...yikes! Special thanks to Stardiva...she's got a great story herself going - you should check it out!. Either way, thank you for those you have reviewed thus far and I look forward to hearing from others in the future. :P
The morning came too early for Valentine. Her body was sore and she felt a bit weak. But her energy seem to flow back into her as she heard the soft cooing in a bassinet next to the bed. It was then she remembered: she was a mother. The faint movements told her that her son was awake and restless. Less than 24 hours ago he was still inside her, safe and warm in her womb. She could hear the gurgling as he sounded as if he was going to start to cry. Valentine looked to her left and saw Christopher there. He was not in his normal sleepwear or his normal sleeping position. It looked as if he had just flopped into the bed, lying on his stomach, and fallen asleep in pure exhaustion. Valentine smiled as she looked to her Christopher. Oh, how she wanted to cuddle closer to him, but their newborn son was threatening to cry out and she did not want Christopher to be disturbed.
When Valentine had become pregnant, and Michael and Marchie had come to the flat to live, it soon became apparent that the flat was not going to big enough for all of them. Marchie had advised she could move in the Maddie downstairs. However, Christopher noted the room's location was too far from the nursery for her to be an effective nanny. Maddie could move upstairs into the converted room with Marchie, but the nursery could not be moved downstairs, which did not help. The 1st floor was always a bit chillier than the 2nd floor, and the children would be too far away for Valentine's liking. Marchie was surprised at Valentine's insistence that Michael and the new baby be nearby so she could be involved. Marchie had not expected that. Nor had she expected Miss Wannop to breastfeed her own child. The subject had come up one afternoon between Marchie and Valentine. Valentine had been caught off guard when Marchie had inquired about when Valentine was going to begin interviews for a wet nurse. Valentine understood that upper class ladies did not always nurse their own children, but Valentine was not upper class and she would not relinquish the gift of watching her child suckle at her own breast just for societies' sake. Lord knows she and Christopher had thumbed their noses at them already, what difference does it make now? Marchie agreed with Valentine, having nursed her own son and daughter when they were born. Christopher never asked or thought to question how things would progress after the child was born, Valentine determined that it just wasn't something he was ever asked to participate in before. In the end, it was decided they baby would stay in Christopher and Valentine's bedroom for the time being. This shocked Marchie who had thought she would be required to attend the new baby. She was just a bit disappointed she was not going to be as involved as she had been with Christopher and Michael.
Valentine drew back the covers of the bed, and eased up slowly. The sun was just being to rise and its rays peeked through the curtains of the bedroom. The room was warm, the fire in the fireplace had been tended to throughout the night to stave off the cool February air. Valentine crept to the bassinet and her breath caught the sight of her little boy. He was wrapped up in a blue cashmere blanket and had on pale blue gown. Her son did not look very happy, his face scrunched up and red, but he made only semi-silent fussing noises. It was almost as if he too was not happy the sun rays.
Valentine gingerly lifted her son into her arms. He fussed a bit being moved, but soon he realized who was holding him. Valentine checked his nappy.
"Everything alright there." Valentine whispered. Still the boy fussed, but soon Valentine was seated in the overstuffed chair Christopher had insisted he bring upstairs from the living room. The warmth of fire radiated out nicely to keep the area around the chair warm. Valentine smiled as she adjusted her son a bit in her arms, seeing the blanket on the back of the chair she knew Christopher had placed there for her. He always thinks of everything, Valentine thought, as she brought the warm wool blanket to cover her lap and legs. Valentine adjusted her nightclothes to expose one full breast. Her body seemed to know a hungry baby was near, as a bit of milk had already leaked from her breasts in response to the baby's fussing. Her mother had helped show Valentine how to encourage the babe to latch onto her breast.
"If he is too upset when you go to nurse him Valentine he will not latch on, so it is important to calm him as much as possible before you try to nurse. Better for you both I assure you." Valentine's mother stated, speaking from obvious experience, as she guided her daughter through her first step into motherhood.
Valentine moved the baby's mouth to the waiting nipple, tilting his head slightly to provide the best angle. She was bit awkward at first, but soon the child was suckling hungrily at her breast. Valentine adjusted the blue blanket around his body, feeling the wonderful strong pull of the baby's mouth on her breast. Valentine watched her son as he drew from her breast, stroking his soft head, examining him for the first time in real appreciation of his beauty and wonder. His skin was pale, but heal the rose tint of newness. He had a light dusting of golden hair on his head, not surprising given his both of his parent's fair hair. He had blue eyes, but Dr. Foster advised his eyes may change within a few weeks to another shade. Valentine hoped he would have Christopher's handsome hazel green eyes. Valentine leaned back in sublime sedation. She was so relaxed she did not notice those same hazel green eyes she had been dreaming about were now watching her from the bed.
Christopher gazed at his Valentine, his mistress, his true love. He had felt her get up from the bed. He was surprised last night that Valentine had asked him to stay with her. He was equally surprised when Valentine did in fact keep the babe in the room with her. And he was downright dumbfounded when Valentine had risen prior to the dawn and was now in the process of nursing his son. All of these things Sylvia would have never allowed or done. In the first days of Michael's life, Sylvia had claimed to be too weak to do anything, even hold Michael. She had flatly refused to get up to care for Michael, having Marchie do 90% of the work, and was against nursing the boy herself for fear of ruining her figure. In those first few weeks, Christopher had held Michael more than Sylvia had; Sylvia only played the role of loving new mother when guests were around and she could parade Michael out like a trophy. Christopher admonished himself for thinking of his wicked wife as he gazed upon his angelic Valentine. She was not like Sylvia, Christopher felt as if he was a first time father, even though this was his second son. A second son, Christopher quietly rejoiced, he would have never thought it possible when he was sitting leg deep in mud on the front lines watching men die all around him in the war. This was his second chance…a second son. Christopher watched as Valentine awkwardly placed their son to her breast, but soon the child had settled in and was content; Valentine too seemed sublime as she rested her head against the back of the large chair.
Christopher rose out of the bed, he looked down at himself and saw he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday. Christopher glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantle, 5:12 am. Still too early to call Hollingsworth to tell him the good news. Too early for anyone to be up, including Valentine, Christopher thought as he glanced over at her. He was amazed that she was up and about…Sylvia had….No! Stop doing that, Christopher, he thought. Valentine was fine, she had done an amazing feat yesterday and he would be forever in awe of her and all women. He padded silently around the bed, not wanting to disturb her. However, as he passed by Valentine's head lifted a bit and her eyes opened, a smile so bright and soft spread across her face, it was not to be imagined.
"Where are you going?" Valentine whispered, the crackle of the fire only thing louder that her voice. Christopher paused, looked down to her, "I need to build up the fire a bit in here, plus I need to relieve myself."
Valentine nodded slightly, "Don't be long." Christopher moved quickly and quietly through the house to obtain the items he needed for the fire. When he returned he saw that the child had finished nursing and Valentine was just holding him, toying gently with his small pink hand exposed from under the blanket.
Christopher moved to the fire, adding a few logs there. He turned to his lady love, offering his hand to help her stand.
"Come back to bed." Christopher advised sweetly. Valentine carried the baby to the bed, Christopher's arm around her waist in concern.
"There was a time before if you had said those same words to me, there would be much different ending to your invitation." Valentine spoke softly as she climbed into the bed with the sleeping baby in her arms. Christopher chuckled and quickly tucked her and the baby in, before walking around to the other side of the bed and climbing in next to Valentine. Valentine moved closer to Christopher, who place his arm around her shoulders to bring her up against his side. Valentine laid her head on the Christopher's shoulder and sighed in contentment.
"Are you sure you are well enough to move about, my dear?" Christopher asked softly, feathering his lips against Valentine's temple thoughtfully.
"I am fine, Christopher. We are both just fine." Valentine assured him, stroking the baby tenderly. Christopher contemplated his son being held in his true love's arms. He stroked the soft down of the boy's perfectly round head. Dr. Foster advised the child had come through the birth without any complications and was a healthy 15 kilograms.
"For a first child, Valentine has performed admirably", Dr. Foster advised Christopher as he walked to the front entrance of the flat.
"Thank you doctor for your professionalism and kindness towards Valentine." Christopher responded, shaking the doctor's hand. Christopher was aware some doctors were not inclined to serve women who were paramours of the ton. He had heard some vicious stories in the past about the way doctors would treat these women, when it was the men who should be the ones taking the brunt.
"It was my pleasure. She is a remarkable young woman, very intelligent." The doctor paused, "See that she gets some rest and you as well, Christopher. New infants are not to be trifled with." Dr. Foster smiled genuinely to Christopher, both of laughing at his joke, as he exited the flat with the midwife in tow.
"Our son needs a name." Christopher remarked to Valentine as they lay cuddled up in the bed, the warmth of the fire and their love filling the room. Curiously they had never really fully discussed any names for the baby previously.
"What names do you like?" Valentine asked quietly as she lifted the child so Christopher could take the child from her so she could use the water closet. Christopher rocked the sleeping baby gently and kissed his little forehead softly. Christopher said nothing as she walked to the next room. As she re-entered the room she paused at what she heard and saw.
"D'ye ken John Peel with his coat so gray? D'ye ken John Peel at the break o' day?" Christopher softly spoke/sang to his newborn son with his deep-baritone voice, he did not hear Valentine return, so she watched as he continued singing softly.
"D'ye ken John Peel when he's far, far a-way. With his hounds and his horn in the morning?" As Christopher finished his song, he glanced up to see Valentine watching him.
"Well that's it then." Valentine announced as she returned to the bed. "Your son will love you forever and ever." Christopher looked at Valentine queerly.
"My dear, don't you remember? That is the song you sang to me when we were trying to find our way in the mist. So I could find my way back to you." Valentine paused waiting for Christopher to remember. He did remember, the night, the ride, the conversation, and the almost kiss; he smiled widely.
"That was the night that I feel so in love with you, although I hadn't really realized it." Valentine confessed to her lover. Christopher leaned over and kissed her tenderly.
"So I think we should name him John, to remember the song you sang to me when we are old and gray." Valentine offered. Christopher did not seem as inclined to agree to the name, although it did have some merit.
"Alexander. Alexander Gilbert John Tietjens. Alexander for our son's future greatness, Gilbert for your father. John for our song. What do you think?" Christopher asked expectantly.
"I think it is wonderful, Christopher. It's perfect. Just like him." Valentine expressed with tears of joy.
"Get some rest, I shall put great Alexander to bed." Christopher instructed Valentine, who obediently slipped down further under the covers, as Christopher carried Alexander back to the bassinet.
Alexander Gilbert John Tietjens was baptized less than a month after his birth at the St Martin-in-the-Fields Church by the Tietjens family priest. Even though the child was born out of wedlock, the priest understood the need to ensure the child's religious upbringing was assured.
Michael was elated that his new playmate was a boy. He was anxious for Alexander to grow big enough for him to really play. Valentine assured Michael that it would not be long before Alexander would be able to truly play, but until then Michael would have to be careful and attentive.
It was through the baptism Sylvia was made aware of the fact Christopher and his mistress were parents of a new baby boy. The fact that Michael was still being withheld from her was not so much of an issue before, but now Sylvia was incensed.
"How dare he keep my son from me when he has a new brat from his whore?" Sylvia screamed at her maid, Evie, who looked on without reaction. She knew better than to say or do anything when Sylvia was in one of her moods. She had recently gotten "bored" with her latest man. He wasn't anything compared to Christopher, Sylvia thought. Christopher was a man, an adult. But he did not give her the attention she needed to not be bored out of her mind. And then he had left her to go to war. It was all too much. And now this.
Sylvia had enough. She would get him back. She had cut down his precious pagan tree at Groby. And now she was trapped at Groby once again waiting for SOMETHING to happen. Well, she would make something happen alright.
"Get out! Get out right now!" Sylvia yelled at Evie. She wrapped her negligee tightly around her as she literally chased Evie down the stairs, yelling for the servants to get up as the hall clock chimed 1 am. The servants did not respond immediately, enraging Sylvia more.
"I hate this place! It feels like a tomb! Well, I will not live in a tomb. Not anymore." Sylvia announced as her mind went wild as she began her search.
The phone rang the next morning. Everyone was at breakfast; Christopher read his paper, while Valentine fussed over Michael and Alexander simultaneously. Maddie answered the phone quietly, returning to the dining room.
"Telephone, Mr. Tietjens." Maddie stated flatly.
"Thank you, Maddie." Christopher responded, folding his paper and leaving it on the table. Valentine immediately snatched it up to read the latest headlines. There was silence in the other room, but Alexander began fussing drawing Valentine's attention. Valentine heard the telephone receiver being placed in its cradle. Christopher returned to the dining room, looking grave and concerned.
"Christopher?" Valentine asked seeing the concern on Christopher's face. Christopher motioned for Valentine to follow him to the living room area.
"Marchie, see to Alexander a moment. I need to speak with Christopher." Valentine followed Christopher who poured himself a whiskey, at 9am in the morning.
"What is it? Who was that?" Valentine asked very concerned as she watch Christopher take a deep swig of whiskey from the glass.
"That was Mark. There has been a fire at Groby." Valentine gasped in shock, glancing over to Michael.
"Is anyone hurt?" Valentine asked. Christopher half-smiled in response to Valentine's concern for the people verse the property at Groby, Mark had been the exact opposite.
"Yes. Sylvia. She died in the fire. Everyone else escaped with only a few with minor injuries." Christopher stated gravely, Valentine covering her mouth in shock. "Sylvia was apparently deranged about something, Mark was not sure what about. She tried to burn Groby to the ground, and in the process killed herself."
"My god! And Groby? Is it…is it gone?" Valentine whispered, reaching out to clutch Christopher's arm in concern.
"Not all, but there was extensive damage to the main house according to Mark." Christopher took another drink from his glass. "Mark is taking the next train to Leicester, and I am going to join him. I need to make arrangements. I will call you when I have more information." Christopher paused, the reality overwhelming him, he dropped to the sofa silence, glancing at Michael.
"Oh Valentine. What am I going to tell Michael? I took him from his mother, and he hasn't seen or heard from her since, because I forbid it. And now she's dead." Christopher sobbed softly, not for the loss of his wife, but for Michael's loss of his mother. "Is this my penance? For being happy, that my son will hate me for what I have done. Sylvia will haunt me from the grave for eternity."
Valentine took Christopher's hand trying to comfort him. "My dear. This is not your fault. Sylvia abandoned Michael long ago. She chose her path just as we have chosen ours."