Aside from Heaven
Chapter 4Q
Through my window, there's a rainbow
~~~...~~~
Hugh and his family arrived the next morning, with Fulks and Henriette arriving in the afternoon.
"Ah, you did not wait for us," Henriette complained cheerfully, holding little Sibilla. Despite being several weeks early, the baby was chubby and pink. William arranged a wet nurse, in case Vivienne's milk did not come in. It did, but Vivienne was appreciative of the substitute, if necessary. "Look at all of the black hair!" Fulks's wife nodded to her father-in-law. "You should not deny her anything."
"Vivienne or Sibilla?"
"Both!" Her grin was wide. She made a moue when William reached over and took his new daughter. "Oh, dear Papa, I only held her a moment!"
"I never hold her," William stated matter-of-factually. "Everyone else holds my daughter." He pulled the tiny girl into a protective embrace. He turned his back to the company of family and wandered towards the fireplace, crooning softly to sleeping babe.
It was quiet for a time, save the murmuring from the Patriarch, the man unaware of five pairs of eyes watching him closely.
"I just remembered something," Hugh whispered to his brother.
"Wot?"
"I remember him holding you like that." Fulks's eyebrows rose in question. "He looked at you like you hung the moon." Fulks began to smile. "He looked at Cecilia like that, as well. As if he held a great gift." He turned to leave for the kitchen to retrieve some fruit for his wife. As he did so, he leaned in towards his younger sibling. "This new sister of ours looks like Cecilia. I remember."
As he left, no one noticed his sire's eyes on him. William had heard every word.
~~~...~~~
Elienna gave birth to the rejoiced heir to Hungtington-Locksley in late September. Like his sister, he was hearty and robust, with black curls, similar to his very young aunt. He was named William Hugh, after his father and grandfather.
Vivienne joked that William was so puffed up, one would think he had given birth, rather than his daughter-in-law.
Just before Yule, Henriette gave birth to a daughter. Imaigne was fair and frail, much to the worry of her parents. She refused to nurse from her mother, but latched on to the healthy and hearty farm maid William found in the village.
And in between, Edward Balliol was put back on the throne of Scotland by Edward III.
And by spring of 1336, he was run out of the country yet again, never to return.
~~~...~~~
The knocking on the bedchamber door was incessant and William lay waiting for Eleanor to answer it and send whoever away. After some minutes, he remembered that Eleanor married her young blacksmith some weeks before and now lived in a small cottage near the stable in Gisborne, where her new husband worked. Vivienne's old chamber had been turned into a nursery and Sibilla and her wet nurse resided there. He growled as he threw the bed covers and curtains back, hearing Vivienne mumble in her sleep, as she rolled over. He threw a long night shirt on before heading towards the door. He stubbed his toe on a bedpost, growling even more when he threw the door open. "This better be good!"
Walter stood before him, pale and wide-eyed. "Sir, it was n-n-n-n-not m-m-m-m-my wish to d-d-d-d-disturb you..."
"Wot is it?"
The nervous young man nodded towards the stairwell. "He insis-sis-sisted." The barely-bearded boy, who suddenly developed a stutter, again nodded towards the staircase. William headed to the banister and peered over. John, a priest who served the Sisters of Ripley, as well as aided with Mellisande when she was violent, stood at the bottom of the stairs, He looked up to the Lord of Gisborne, the faint glow of the fireplace in the Great Room below, driving the temperature of the room in the heat of the summer night up and illuminating the messenger, whose shadow was long in the firelight. "I am sorry to wake you at this hour, however I bring sad news."
William was now aware that Vivienne was beside him. "Bad news?" she whispered.
John looked at Vivienne in disapproval before returning his attention to William. "My Lord, your lady wife," he placed much emphasis on the word 'wife', "has died."
The words didn't penetrate William's still asleep brain. He wasn't aware of Vivienne's gasp. "Wot?"
The man exhaled in vexation. It was obvious he didn't approve of his lordship's current living situation or having to deliver these tidings to him in front of his mistress. "The Lady Mellisande has died."
William stared at the man for some time, before thanking him and sending him to the kitchen for sustenance. As he turned, he told the man that there were several rooms off the kitchen for guests, if he wished to stay the rest of the night. John nodded that he heard William's offer and left the room towards the back of the house.
The Black Knight watched and listened until the priest's foot steps faded. He turned to Vivienne, who held the back of her hand to her mouth in shock. "Vivienne?"
She looked at him, wide-eyed, in shock. "My lord?
"Will you marry me?"
~~~...~~~
Mellisande, in a low swing of depression, or perhaps, in a slim moment of lucidity, hung herself outside of her cottage, from the central rafter of the garden house where Guy and Genevieve conversed before their marriage. In a rare fit of verbal discourse, the abbess of Ripley's conceded to bury the woman in consecrated ground despite how she died, as she was not in her right mind to begin with. Truth be told, William was adamant that if Ripley's didn't bury her on their grounds, the financial good will of the FitzGisborne's would more than likely cease and the Abbess did not want to see a large portion of their financial overhead to dry up. Besides, few knew she had hung herself, save a small number at the nunnery and William. None of the nuns were talking and William wouldn't tell a soul. The sisters who prepared the body for burial made sure his wife's wimple covered the marks on her neck, even though there was no viewing, save a private one for William and his sons.
Not to mention, his Lordship questioned how the woman gained the grounds without her nurse and guard to keep her from doing herself harm. The offer to bury her properly within her family crypt seemed to appease the man and the abbess breathed a sigh of relief when he left, his family's continuing patronage still intact and unsullied.
The Abbot at Kirksley was a different matter. He balked and barked at presiding over William and Vivienne's marriage so soon after the death of the Lady Mellisande. He threatened to force a papal dispensation, however William reminded him there was no need for one and if he wouldn't perform the ceremony, surely there was a church between here and France that could use the money William was willing to pay to get the deed done.
Some of the locals grumbled about the speed of the ceremony, but no one said a word to The Lord's face, or any of his children's. Some remembered the evil demon that resided within the lordship's first wife and were openly grateful the second one was not only beloved by him, but beloved by the people of Nottingham. She made his lordship happy, therefore they were happy.
And the feast that Nottingham Castle provided for the nuptials was spoken of for many years.
~~~...~~~
mid-late October 1336
For a change, the messenger showed up at mid-day, rather than midnight. For that, William was grateful. The man still brought horrid news.
William was still interrogating the man – the king's messenger, truth be told – when Vivienne stepped into the foyer. Her gardening apron was covered with soil – herbs and other things were being harvested and hung to dry; syrups, ointments, tinctures, and teas separated and prepared. The Arunja trees were growing tall and according to Hugh, one of the trees at Locksley was heavy with the sweet fruit, as was one of the lemon trees. Vivienne and William were planning on going to visit the following week to make jellies and jams for winter.
Well, Vivienne would make jellies and jams. William planned to watch her and make crude comments about that lovely backside of hers, one she finally allowed him to explore and plunder.
Gently. Oh, so gently.
She was also expecting again. As like before, they hadn't told anyone, although both had felt the babe move and she was loosening the ties on her gowns. At this rate, she would be showing properly within ten days. Still, she was glowing and smiling and people around wondered what caused a happy woman to be happier.
Eleanor knew, as did Margaret's daughter, who replaced her mother as the housekeeper of Gisborne. As with Sibilla, Vivienne's morning sickness was a force to be reckoned with and left the young woman pale and weak for a short time.
"William?"
His thoughts were jerked back to the missive in his hands. "The messenger brings very bad news." He blinked several times. "I do not wish to upset you or our babe. Go upstairs."
Vivienne scowled. "But William-"
"I said," he turned to her tersely, jaw set, but eyes pleading, "Go upstairs and await for me."
His wife stiffened and she narrowed her eyes. Dear Jesu, he did not want an argument in front of this man, of all people. With his back to the king's messenger, he nodded towards the stairs. "Please." It was whispered.
That plea did her in. With a deferential nod she did not feel, she dipped -
Oh Angel, I'm going to pay for this
before nodding to the messenger and returning to the stairs. William heard her call to Eleanor to prepare a bath for her. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders before returning his attention to the man in royal livery standing in the foyer. "When did this happen?"
~~~...~~~
She was not in the Master's Chambers, so he quietly strode to the solar with more bravado than he felt. Sure enough, his wife was awaiting him. He grabbed her and took her in his arms immediately. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you are angry?"
"Don't sweet talk me, you... you... sweet talker!"
William had to laugh at that. "Where is Sibilla?"
"Taking a nap, in her cradle. Eleanor is with her." William nodded. "Don't change the subject!" The moment she inhaled, William covered her mouth with his hand.
"The messenger is down in the kitchens and will not stay the night." The Lord of Gisborne had been relieved upon being told that bit of news. "He has several other members of the nobility to visit after here and would like to get back to his own wife, who is expecting."
"Well, that's all fine and lovely, but-"
"John is dead."
Vivienne blinked several times. "Who?"
"John. The king's brother, Prince John."
His wife continued to stare at him, before realizing who he spoke of. "The one who burned the church with the people inside."
"Aye."
"Good!"
William shook his head. "I knew you would respond in this manner, which is why I sent you upstairs."
"Why?"
This irked the man, whether it be her words or her attitude, and it showed, causing Vivienne to step back in shock. "Why? Because the man was the king's brother, heathen that he was. His military prowess has kept France and Scotland within their borders and not pushing ours. Whatever you think of him is of no regard! He is dead and his brother, the king, grieves his only brother's death." He realized he had his wife pinned to the wall and she was staring at him, wide-eyed. He took a step back. "The messenger is good friends with Hugh. He will go there next. I have been called to court for the funeral in January. I will take you with me to present you as my wife. Regardless of your feelings towards John, you will be cordial and behave like Lady Gisborne should act, keeping your tongue behind your teeth! Do I make myself clear?"
Vivienne was staring at him as if he had grown a second head, but she nodded her head in acknowledgment.
A part of William felt horrid for speaking to Vivienne in that manner, however she was unprepared and knowledgeable of Edward's court and how one, wrong step could ruin the hard work of Guy, Roland, and himself. Deep in his heart, he feared retribution from any angle, and he held one solitary threat that he would use if he had to.
He would not lose Nottinghamshire or Vivienne, no matter what he had to do. His smile did not reach his eyes. "Just after Yule, we pack and leave for London. We will take Sibilla, her wet nurse, and Eleanor with us. I have a house in London; I will notify the staff there we will be in residence for some weeks."
Vivienne bowed her head. "Yes, m'lord." It was cowed, soft, and William had the feeling sleeping in the barn would be warmer than his marital bed this eve. Vivienne shrugged. "Eleanor will be quite excited."
"Tell her to keep her tongue held as well." With that, William turned and strode from the mansion, slamming the door behind him.
Leaving his wife feeling quite uneasy.
~~~...~~~
mid-January 1337
London was packed. The king was in residence and the city was in mourning.
The stench was over-powering. Regardless, the women of the FitzGisborne household peered from the coaches that carried them, taking in the sights and sounds. Hugh and Fulks' wives and their servants pointed and whispered.
Hugh wondered aloud to his brother and father if he had brought enough crowns for his wife's anticipated many trips to the merchants.
Fulks wondered sardonically if they would have to rent another carriage to carry his wife's purchases on the return trip.
William stared ahead. He didn't care so long as he didn't have to accompany the women to the clothiers or jewelers. He hated going to the merchants! He despised the wrangling and bargaining and the measuring and being stuck with pointy objects, all in the name of fashion! He hated the entire ordeal! That's what servants were for.
Vivienne was worried she wouldn't be dressed grandly enough. There was no need for velvets and silks in Notthinghamshire. Oh, she had them; William made sure of that, but now that she was out of the country and into the city, well that was a different story. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to think Lord FitzGisborne's Lady was a simpleton, a lowly born country miss! Hugh's wife had been to court once, as a lady-in-waiting before she married Hugh, The trip to London was spent of her retelling of her short time there. Court intrigue. Drama. Politics. Vivienne had a feeling she wouldn't want to stay long.
But she would shop first. At least, they had several days before they were to be presented to King Edward and his queen, Philippa. There were dinners and masses to prepare for.
A funeral mass. The thought was sobering. A funeral mass for someone she felt deserved to die and had no place in Heaven.
She shook her head. The thought was unkind and it was not her place to judge. That was The Almighty's job and John by now, stood in front of his Maker, answering for his many sins and crimes. To her, it mattered not that the king, his brother, grieved his loss. William made it very clear how she was to behave and Vivienne came to the conclusion that it would be best if she simply kept her head down and thought of sorrowful things in order to look as if she grieved as well.
During the funeral mass, she thought of her father, genuine tears running down her face, certainly not for the deceased, but for her personal loss for a man she adored. For not the first time she wondered, if her father would be pleased of the choices she'd made since his death.
"He is not worth your tears." It was whispered in her ear and even now, in this place, it sent chills up her spine.
She shook her head. "He is not why I cry."
"Why do you weep?"
"I miss my father."
William nodded. The haunting tirade he expected from Simon never came, so he assumed his beloved knight was pleased with how his daughter's life turned out. He could ask The Angel, but he preferred to assume.
If her father was angered, he'd prefer to be kept in the dark.
There was a dinner, a feast in honor of John that afternoon after the funeral mass.
And that's when everything went to hell.
~~~...~~~
Now there's someone sleeping on my pillow
~~~...~~~
tbc