"Mama!" Fortune ran to her mother's side.
James Leslie didn't bother to wait for help. Pushing his stepdaughter aside, he lifted his wife up in his arms and carried her through the village, across the drawbridge, and into the castle.
Seeing him enter the hall old Biddy called out, "Have you a birthing table, my lord?"
Rohana came running. "I will take care of my lady," she said. "I have been doing it since she was born."
"Let Biddy care for the bairn after it is born," Jasmine said so the old woman would not be offended by Rohana. "And she can help you now too, for she has had the experience." Then she groaned. "This child will wait for no one now it has decided to be born! It will not be like you, my Fortune, taking forever, and then having to be turned about so you could come properly. Ahhh! I can feel the child's head! It is coming now!"
James Leslie knew just what to do. He deposited his wife on the high board, and braced her shoulders so the other women might aid her. There was absolutely no time for niceties. Jasmine groaned with her labor. She had never had so quick a birthing, but she could quite distinctly feel the child's head pushing down. "Rohana?"
Her serving woman pushed Jasmine's skirts up, and peered between her mistress's legs. "You're correct, my lady, the head is coming. Push with the next pain. Ohh! 'Tis almost here. Gracious, I have never seen a baby born this quickly, my princess. Ohh!" Rohana caught the infant as it slid easily from its mother's body. The child began to howl almost immediately, waving its small arms protestingly at having been pushed so rudely from its dark and warm safe haven.
"What is it?" Jasmine demanded.
" 'Tis a lass!" James Leslie crowed, delighted. " 'Tis a fine, hot-tempered wee lassie!"
"Well, Jemmie, you wanted another daughter to spoil, and damn me if you haven't gone and gotten your way," his wife said with a chuckle.
Fortune had stood staring at her mother's very brief travail, and had actually seen her new half-sister born. She was fascinated, and asked her mother, "Do they all come so quickly, Mama?"
Jasmine laughed weakly. "Nay, poppet, they do not all come so swiftly. 'Twas my fall earlier, I believe, that brought my early labor on, although from the sound of her this child is strong."
"A fine lass," Biddy said, handing the cleaned and swaddled baby into her mother's arms. "A Samhein lassie!"
"What are we to call her?" James Leslie asked his wife.
Jasmine considered a long moment, and then she said, "Autumn, because she was born to me in the autumn of my life, in the autumn of the year." Then she saw the bowl of late roses on the sideboard. "Autumn Rose Leslie," Jasmine decided. "Our daughter's name will be Autumn Rose."
PART III
“Love God, and do what you please.”
– St. Augustine
Chapter 13
Sir William Devers survived his wound, but he would never walk again. As soon as it was feasible he was moved from the Reverend Samuel Steen's house in Maguire's Ford back to Lisnaskea. He was only in his mid-twenties, and as he lay in his bed, or sat in the chair that had been fashioned for him, he grew angrier and angrier. He wanted to hold the Catholics responsible for his infirmity, but they had not shot at him. He had been shot from behind, and the Catholics of Maguire's Ford had been facing him. Still, Sir William Devers reasoned, if they had not been at Maguire's Ford then neither would he have been there, and he would not be the invalid he was now. Who had shot him he did not know, nor did anyone else seem to know.
And so he did hold the Catholics answerable for his helpless state, and encouraged by his wife and mother, plotted a revenge he would never be able to carry out against the Catholics in general, against his half-brother, Kieran, and against Fortune, for he reasoned, had she never come to Ulster, none of this would have ever happened. It was all their fault.
No one came to visit Sir William and his family. The servants gave notice but for a few. He was condemned, it seemed, to spend the rest of his days at Mallow Court with only his mother and his wife for civilized company. Sir William Devers took to drinking anything that would free him from his pain and his boredom.
At Maguire's Ford Autumn Leslie, born on All Hallows' Eve, the Samhein celebration of the ancient Celtic races, thrived. Jasmine knew instinctively that this was absolutely her last baby, and so she nursed her daughter devotedly, declining a wetnurse. Fortune adored the baby, and spent much of her time with Autumn and their mother.
"She is so sweet," Fortune sighed. "I should so like a little girl like her… one day. I know this is not the right time, Mama."
"If Kieran goes alone to the New World," Jasmine suggested, "perhaps you should be with child then. That way I could be with you when the child was born. Then when it is safe for you to join your husband, the baby will be old enough to travel with you, but wait until we return to England before you make that decision."
Fortune sighed again. She wanted a normal life like her mother and her sister, India, had. A home, a husband, babies, and peace. Why could she not have these things? But she knew the answer to her own unspoken questions. She had married a man whose faith was not acceptable. They would have to make a new life in a place where his faith and hers were acceptable. But when? Why must it all take so long? She cuddled her baby sister closely, marveling that everything about Autumn was so perfect. Her dark hair with its faint auburn tints, her eyes which were beginning to hold distinct glints of green even at two months of age when she was baptized by the Reverend Samuel Steen, her half-sister, and brother, Adam, standing as her godparents.
Christmas and Twelfth Night had come and gone. The winter had set in hard. Maguire's Ford was quiet, and there was no longer any threat of violence from Lisnaskea, the excesses of the previous October having drained all choler from them. To Kieran's delight there were several families who had decided that they would like to go with him and Fortune to the New World, including young Bruce Morgan. They saw the opportunities available to them there despite the dangers involved. The older folk, of course, could not find it in their hearts to leave Ulster. They had always survived somehow, and would continue to do so, they reasoned.
January gave way to February, and then February gave way to March. The green hillsides were dotted with the white coats of the lambs born the month before. The duke began to make plans to leave Maguire's Ford for Scotland. They would depart the estate the fifteenth day of May, the day after Adam Leslie's fifteenth birthday. The two Leslie sons had settled quite well into Maguire's Ford. The Reverend Steen had been engaged as their tutor. The king's patent was expected before they departed, and Jasmine had already had the estate boundaries redrawn, dividing the land equally between the two boys. When Duncan turned sixteen in another four years, a house would be built for him on a site he had already chosen.