Chapter 515) White Horses

“Things that break your heart are the same things that open your eyes.”

—Unkown Author

Henfordshire
Kyranmore Abbey

“… the most honorable, most pious among us … ” the archbishop rambled on monotonously, when Bianca nudged me.

“What does that word mean? Pious. I only know pizzazz, but he can’t mean that!”

“Good, dutiful, chaste …” I ‘translated’.

“Chaste? How, please, can she be chaste? She’s knocked up!” Bianca exclaimed just a tad too loud.

“SHHHH! Bee! So was I at my last wedding, and so were you with Jake during your shotgun wedding to Carson, before you came to your senses and married Gav, so zip it. Almost done.” I whispered back at her.

We were in a place of worship, the ancient Kyranmore Abbey, nobody knew exactly how old it was or who originally built it and for which deity and beliefs as its walls well preceded any surviving records, but it had been through a lot, seen its fair share of wars and catastrophes, it has been repurposed many times throughout the ages. Currently, the good creme de la creme of Henfordshire was assembled to watch his honourable Lordship John Duke Montfort-Yates tie the knot to Lady Charlene Ashford, supposedly a descendant from a long like of old nobility, but I swear she sprung from hell. Max had just started to officiate the wedding; the archbishop had finished up his part of the ceremony around it.

About a week or so preceding their wedding I had finally met Lord John and couldn’t have been more surprised that he and Max were once childhood friends, and maybe might even now be attempting to rekindle a friendship. Not that I didn’t like Lord John, honest I do, but he is so much unlike Max, an almost polar opposite, even though Max had started to grow out a full beard, something he never seemed to fancy, until Lord John reappeared.

Lord John is not what you might expect, he most definitely wasn’t what I expected. He is an impressively built man, tall, broad without being heavy or plump.

His voice is deep, oozes authority and confidence and carries so well – as does his hearty laughter, it would make any singer jealous. His once ravenblack hair and beard have a lot of silver strands, he shows the wrinkles of middle age in a for aristocrats rather unusual rougher, almost leathery skin confirming that most of his preceding years spent had been spent traveling the world, a lot of that on high seas, exposed to the elements. His entire being commands attention, his presence is captivating and striking, he isn’t handsome in the classic sense, though certainly captivating. What he may (or may not) lack visually, he makes up for in charisma. An interesting person, with a seemingly never-ending supply of stories to tell, debatable how much those have been embellished, but he is definitely someone you want at your parties, especially the type we hosted and attended, which are always impressive and often pompous but a far cry from the crazy fun parties my side of the family would throw.

I can see why someone like Lady Charlene would be so interested in him and not just for his title and ranking, which was top nobility, directly below royalty.

Lady Charlene looked beautiful as a painting, as always, I cannot lie, but there was an iciness about her, always. She’d make an excellent vampire, although, if that were to ever happen, I’d be dead as a doornail, she’d see to that instantly, I am sure. I know they have rules, but she has never been known to follow any rules too closely, and she knows hwo to masterfully employ her beauty and gamine ways to get out of bad situations.
They sure made an impressive couple together.

Bianca was next to me, she and Gavin had been elevated into aristocracy by Max about two weeks ago, and were given the titles of Baron and Baroness, making them the very first members of the Cameron family to obtain a noble title. My children were of course Cameron descendants and royals, but not Cameron in name, Gavin was, and since the title was hereditary, their kids would carry them on afterwards. Which basically would mean when they came of age, since Gavin is a vampire and would never pass on naturally. Either way, that whole family was now attending court etiquette classes. And Gavin FINALLY got a haircut. He looks dashing now, if I may say that about my own uncle, who is my age which may make that a little less weird. And Bianca always looks gorgeous, but she’s my best friend and has that darker complexion I always wished I had, so I am biased.

Anyway, with them, especially Bianca, now in the proper standing with the rest of the local society ladies whom I usually spent my pastime with, when I wasn’t with family or at the stables, as Kismet’s twin fillies were finally old enough to be saddle trained. You weren’t supposed to ride a horse until they are about 3 or 4 years old, depending on the horse, and they were FINALLY old enough. Victoria had been BEGGING me for White Ivy, so Izzy was to continue the riding lessons with Victoria on White Ivy soon, rather than one of the other, already well-established horses. All three of my children shared the same love for horses and riding as their respective fathers and I did. Even little Vivienne was sometimes on horseback, always with one of her parents with her and on very docile horses. She wanted to ride on her own so bad but was way too little.

Life was good for me, for all of us, just the usual hiccups and ups and downs. Nobody is happy ALL the time, but we all were pretty damn close to it. In my case so much so that I did something I never thought I would EVER do.
Moreover, I didn’t even do what I would normally do before making big decisions, which was call my parents and big brother Nick on a three-way call to discuss. No, this time I just blurted my idea out at Max unfiltered and without proper sanity checks first.

Henfordshire
One of the many meadows in the kingdom

Some days after Lord John’s wedding, Max and I had decided to ride out, just us, well, and the guards who were always there, riding ahead and following, whenever we stopped, they strategically placed themselves to create a parameter, but usually made an effort to keep out of our sight to give us at least the illusion of privacy. We had dismounted to let the horses graze, both of us on our favorite horses, Kismet for me and Bold Pleasure for Max, we walked a little, taking in the beauty of the rolling hills and stunning nature of our kingdom, holding hands, then we kissed, until I pulled away.

“Max, let’s have another child.” I dropped the bomb without any warning.

The surprise on his face wasn’t played, but soon replaced by a hopeful smile and lightly raised eyebrows.

“Queen of my heart, I am not sure I heard you correctly …”

“You heard me just fine. I know you always wanted another child, after Victoria. We even had several fights about it. I wasn’t then, but I am ready now.” I told him.

“You have given me another child. I might share her with Jack, but to me, Vivienne is as much my child as are William and Victoria.” Max’ words made him absolutely irresistible to me.

But I felt let down, shut down, disappointed, as this wasn’t the reaction I had expected. I thought he’d be so happy and excited; he’d be doing cartwheels across the meadow.

“Oh.” I said, turned to walk off, swallowing the tears of disappointment, when Max stepped forward and pulled me back into an embrace, kissing me, over and over again.

When he finally came up for air, he was smiling.

“Aria-Grace, most precious of all flowers, your offer made me very happy. Please do not take my reaction, or lack thereof, as rejection, quite the opposite is true, I was merely surprised and at an absolute loss for words, let alone able to find a single clear thought in my mind. You spoke words I never thought I’d hear you say to me. Words you have never said to me before, not once, not ever. Despite being the most excellent mother, you never said you wanted a child before. May I ask why the sudden and very much unexpected change of heart?”

“It’s not so sudden, I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a phase or a silly idea before I came to you with it. I have been thinking that since we found out about Vivienne’s paternity. They way you just shrugged it off, something so devastating to most men, yet, you embraced me and Vivienne and this crazy situation – and even her father. Somehow, ever since then, I felt that I wanted to experience the wonder of intentional conception, of intentional pregnancy, the birth, with you by my side all the way. We never had that. Someone was always pulling one of us, or both, in different directions.”

Max’s eyes clouded, he jerked oddly, then turned away, removed his glasses, to wipe his eyes, which was when I realized he was crying! Max never cried.

“Max!? Are you all right? Max, I didn’t mean to reopen old wounds …”

He turned back to me, smiling now, his eyes still welled up.

“You didn’t. You have said the most precious, nicest thing, you have ever said to me. You said you wanted me to be the father of your child, you wanted to make us parents. I know you were practically coerced, some might call it forced, to have William and then Victoria when you weren’t yet ready for it, and for that, I have always blamed myself and judged myself very harshly. You didn’t embrace pregnancy or motherhood then, and were deprived of large parts of it, due to the old court rules. The way you were when you were pregnant with Vivienne showed me what a tremendous difference that makes. You may not have wanted to be pregnant then either, but you embraced it, you wanted her. Not initially, but after your riding accident you did. I had never seen you like that before. Despite my true attempts to excel, as a husband, partner, father, I have made so many mistakes back then …unforgivable ones.”

“Not unforgivable. I have forgiven all, and turned the page, knowing we both made mistakes. I wish, I wished so much, Vivienne were yours. I do, Max.” I reached for his hands, holding them. He pulled his right hand from me, to cup my face, tenderly.

“Do you really want another child? With me? Not as an attempt to ‘undo’ Vivienne? Or for thinking you ‘owe’ me or the like. You don’t. If you want a child with me, I want it to just be for that single reason, that you wish to experience the entire scope of motherhood, parenthood, with me, once more, but every step, together, intensely.”

“Of course, Max, my darling. I want to create life, a true love child, with you. You and I, both ready, both willing, but in the right mindset at last. Besides … a baby by the king. You kidding? Who wouldn’t want THAT? Hoping to get your autograph tattooed on him or her once born and sell them on Etsy.” I employed the old Cameron tactic on approaching awkward, sad or way too sappy moments: pour coffee on it or make a joke. I didn’t have coffee handy, so … I cracked the lamest joke imaginable, then kissed Max in a way that would make him forget it quickly.

“I do not know what to say, light of my life. You have rendered me speechless. What did your parents and Nick think about this?”

“Nothing. You are the first person I have brought this up to, Max. Nobody else knows. This is me, Max, straight from my heart to yours, no filter, no ulterior motives. Just a woman loving a man, the right man, for all the right reasons, because she needed to get her heart broken a couple times until she realized she had already found her Mr. Right. And I feel that both of us were betrayed by circumstances out of our control, shorted of the joy of parenthood, by dusty old rules and bad timing. Well, speaking of rules and timing …” I looked around to see if there were any guards too close for comfort, they were there, but all had their backs turned to us ever since we kissed the first time, so I gave Max my best bedroom come-and-get-me look, while slowly licking my lips, seductively as I hoped, “… I can think of one fun thing to do that doesn’t require talking … my king.” I implied a curtsy, which made Max chuckle, before he ‘attacked’ me. In the good and very much welcome sense. The Max I told you about, the one only I know. The man, not the king. My husband. My love.

As in, he quickly told the commanding officer to move all guards further out of sight and not permit anyone through, before he proceeded to kiss me while we implemented my suggestion immediately with great enthusiasm – if you catch my drift. If not, he and I worked on making a new human, right there in a meadow field, in public, surrounded by about a dozen guards scattered about. I am going to guess this was another first for the most noble Royal House of Cromwell.

If you are wondering now if those moments of pleasure alfresco bore any fruit, I am sorry to say: join the club.
I am not trying to play coy here, I am truthfully too nervous to test. Talk about afraid of my own courage. So, instead, I go about my business, as does Max, we welcome and greet and meet and host and all such little things, with the big question up in the air like a tease. We already very carefully and covertly tried to get a feel about what the children would think about a potential new sibling. Overall, they seem all in favor, which is good, just in case.

You know how you sometimes want something so badly, but once you get it you are just scared for reasons unbeknownst? That was my entire life’s aspirations until now in a nutshell. The forest for the trees syndrome. Whichever way the pendulum would sway on us having another child, I would be in shock and question everything.

There is a poem I like, called The White Horses, very much like our Cromwell horses. The poem is about the analogy of how different the meaning of something can be when you change the view, while often overlooking what’s right in front of you. White horses once pulled me away from everything here, from Max, from motherhood, from life as a member of the royal court, the same white horses carried my healing heart and me back to Max, to my children, to this life, which now I am convinced I was meant for all along. Which I now embrace, at long last.

Either way, things have changed again between Max and me, for the better this time, again. A subtle change though, one only I would see. Pregnant or not, the very fact that I WANTED a child with Max made all the difference for him. We may or may not experience parenthood again soon, if we do at all, it might not be possible or we may change our mind if it hasn’t happened yet, but the fact that we both wanted it meant we had truly overcome everything in our path and were now one single unit. The way we were always meant to be. That alone was everything, to Max, and to me.
As for Jack, he’s found what he has always been looking for as well, our love for each other has slowly morphed into a deep admiration and true friendship. Not ideal, maybe, but better than any alternative I could think of.

But the sky swears

the white horses

are dropped clouds;

the sea vows they came from a wave,

foamy, salt-maned, galloping inland;

death claims it will set them

to pulling a hearse,

and love

goes riding, all night, bareback,

hunting itself.

~C.A. Duffy