Sons of an Ancient Glory by BJ Hoff

Author:BJ Hoff
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780736940535
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers, Inc.

25

Portrait of a Woman

The certainty that I shall see that lady

Leaning or standing or walking

In the first loveliness of womanhood,

And with the fervour of my youthful eyes,

Has set me muttering like a fool.

W.B. YEATS (1865-1939)

Dublin

Late October

This child spends far more time in his mother’s bedroom than in his nursery,” Lucy observed good-naturedly as she watched Finola cuddle baby Gabriel on her lap. “He will not recognize one from the other, I’m thinking.”

In the rocking chair by the window, Finola ruffled the golden head snuggled next to her heart, smiling down at her son. “He is far too small for that big drafty room, I think. Although it is quite grand, as nurseries go,” she added. “Besides, he will be hungry soon, so I shall keep him here for now.”

Lucy watched them for another moment. “Then I will take the diapers downstairs to the laundry. Do you want anything from the kitchen when I come back?”

Finola shook her head. “I am growing far too round as it is.”

“Would you listen to the girl!” Lucy burst out, propping her hands on her hips. “For the first time in memory, she has a bit of meat on her bones, and doesn’t she fret?”

Finola laughed at her. “All the same, I will have nothing from the kitchen.”

After Lucy left the room, Finola nursed baby Gabriel contentedly. She treasured these times of quiet closeness with her son. And how she did adore him!

Her golden child had charmed the entire household. Except for Artegal, that is. The sour-tempered footman obviously found even a sweet baby boy only a bother.

But everyone else did dote on the new heir of Nelson Hall. His big sister, Aine, could not pass him by without a squeeze and a kiss. She picked him up so often that Lucy had taken to scolding: “The babe hasn’t a chance! He will be spoiled entirely!”

Sister Louisa, however, declared that there was little likelihood of spoiling such a sweet-tempered child. “He will know himself to be cherished, so where’s the harm? Just see how well he takes it all in his stride. The child is an angel.”

“You see, my precious? You have captured an entire treasure of hearts for your very own!” Finola continued to affirm her son with soft reminders of how important he was to her and his family at Nelson Hall. She often carried on long conversations with the babe when they were together. She would speak to him of the day’s events, discuss decisions that needed to be made, and he would rub his tiny hand along the column of her throat as if to reply.

But at times like these, it seemed that words were not enough! Her heart threatened to burst with the joy of being a mother—Gabriel’s mother. Without warning, a song welled up inside her, a frivolous, but delightful, little children’s air.

These days, she frequently found herself singing, although silently. In her heart she sang lullabies for Gabriel, joyful hymns to her merciful Lord, and even timid, secret songs of affection for Morgan.

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