The Other Elizabeth

Chapter XI: Lammastide 1450

Chapter XI: Lammastide 1450 

Tolleshunt D'Arcy, Essex, England

"Thank you, Bessie," I say, turning around, as she finishes putting the final pin in place on my new headdress. It is a rather small, like a turban, in red with gold swirls, and there is a matching gown of damask with golden artichokes and daisies entwined. Henry had it made for me to try to lighten my spirits, and to try to relax and enjoy the day, not fret about Isabel. Sometimes I wonder if I am being too overprotective, but she is still as small as the loaves of bread we are to see today- for today is Lammas Day.

I turn to meet Henry outside my bedchamber door. I feel a little weighted down, but I shall hold my chin up and act as if naught is wrong. He proffers his arm out, smiling and we walk up to the nursery together.

"E-libbe-bet, E-libbe-bet!" Florence waddles over to me as we walk through the open door, clapping her little hands together. I bend down; 'tis strange, for she is like another daughter to me, yet she is my sister by marriage, and she is my own daughter's aunt. She and Isabel will grow up together like sisters, I hope. Oh, how I should have loved to have a sister!

"Good day, Florence," I say, tickling her under the chin. She giggles.

"Hawwy?"

"Yes?" He bends down next to me. Her little face becomes all serious, and she stops talking in her babe talk.

"May I come with you?" Her wide brown eyes blink open and shut. Henry looks at me.

"I am sure our lady mother will allow it, as long as you behave." I nod in agreement.

"I always behave; I is a good puella."

"No, you do not!" I retort, and start to tickle her until she is out of breath. She must be destined to be a wise woman- speaking Latin at the age of two! I presume Henry could do the same; mayhap my own daughter will be incredibly intelligent and scholarly too, unlike myself. Henry lifts Florence up gingerly onto his waist, and we walk over to where Jane is cradling Isabel. I sit down beside her.

"I am surprised Florence did not wake her with her squealing," Jane remarks.

"Aunt Flo-w-ence is be-wy so-wy," Florence says, sucking her thumb. Henry places Florence on his lap, and she sits there wriggling. Jane passes Isabel to me and busies herself on the other side of the room. We sit there peacefully, looking at our little daughter. I want to cuddle and protect her forever. She is so warm, yet so small. I could gaze upon her from dawn until dusk.

She opens her little eyes suddenly. She makes no sound. Henry and I just stare into her deep blue gems of eyes. They sparkle. She is the most precious and most beloved baby in all of Christendom.

"We shall see her tonight," Henry says gently. I nod, biting my lip. I wish I could take her with me, or not have to attend these celebrations. I start to shake. I place a kiss upon my Isabel's cheek, and Jane takes her from me. 

I realise how much I missed Florence during my confinement. She chatters endlessly; she can be a serious soul, yet she can be most cheeky. I hold her hand all the way down to the church as we skip. The minstrels follow the candlelit procession of all the tenants. They each carry a loaf of bread- for 'lammas' means 'loafmass'. Today is the celebration of the first gathering of wheat for harvest, as well as a quarter day. However, My Lord does not have to deal with the hard task of evicting any of his villagers, for this year's hay harvest has gone well.

We walk past the bare fields stripped of hay, the meadows with the sheep turned out to graze, with the straw-grass bleached yellow from the splendorous sun. The ground is cracked and hard underfoot as we make our way to church, where the priest will bless the loaves. I remember Lammas back at Middleton- I look back on memories of myself being chased through the fields by Thomas, and squabbling over which loaf looked finest. Of course, the peasants eat horrible-looking brown bread, unlike us. I would love for Isabel to have memories such as those too, and have a sibling (preferably a brother), although God only knows how my poor body will cope with a second pregnancy.