"Was Dame Remembrance unable to make it?"
"What? You even want her here on her day off?"
Lady Margaret felt uncertain until he grinned.
"Forgive an old man's foolish joke. She'll be along shortly."
Lady Margaret smiled graciously.
"Go on in, I'll wait for her."
"On your boy's birthday?"
"It is no bother."
"So good of you m'lady."
Dame Remembrance didn't keep her waiting long.
As they gave their little air kisses, Lady Margaret spied the old lantern. She closed her eyes in disappointment.
Allan had told her if anything happened to him, she could rely on the lantern. She thought he meant money, but it was woefully empty. She'd never understand why Allan kept it polished. If he didn't come home soon she would be selling it along with most everything else. She put the thoughts to the back of her mind.
"That gown is very becoming on you."
"Thank you m'lady."
Lady Margaret was very pleased with the Roberts. Samuel's knighthood reflected well upon the Morse family, who they serve under. The dress alone was a good sign. They must be doing well for Remembrance to be wearing red.
"Come on in, it is just about time for cake."
The women walked inside.
Lady Margaret was pleased with her array of guests, pleased and relieved. Despite the reassurance, Lady Margaret had feared the bark growing up her legs would reflect poorly on the Morse's standing in the kingdom. The women had kept there silence and belittled her not.
"There you are my little lord."
Ignoring his mother's gentle pats Alisdair waved to Mother Teresa behind her.
Good man, befriending the clergy in his earliest years. You will make a fine nobleman my son.
"Lady Margaret, this cake looks divine."
"Thank you Princess Ann."
"Will we eat it soon?"
"Princess Jean!" Lady Margaret could hear her sister whisper fiercely, "a Princess doesn't beg for food."
A soft gasp escaped Jean.
She couldn't hear the reply, but no doubt Princess Jean whispered back a protest.
"A fine idea Princess Jean. Everyone, it is time for cake."
The princess stopped their whispered quarrel and all the guests gathered around Lady Margaret.
They all sang and gave praises to her little boy. Then there was confetti, made of tiny fabric scraps.
Alisdair tried to catch it in his little fist. Then he gave a great yawn.
"Oh Alisdair, bedtime already?"
He gave a soft little sigh.
Where had the time gone? The sun was setting already.
"Would you like me to put him to bed for you?" Mother Teresa asked generously.
"No thank you. Would you mind serving the cake?"
The nun nodded.
"I'll set aside a piece for the Little Lord."
Lady Margaret nodded.
She carried her sleepy son up the ladder.
She put a little night shirt on him. He looked up at her and reached for her cheek.
"Ma weef?"
"You like Ma's leaf?"
"Weef, weef, weef."
"I'm going to miss your baby talk little one."
"It doesn't seem so long ago you were my wee little bairn."
Lady Margaret tucked him in bed, visions of his infancy still lingering in her mind.
"Good night my little lord."
"Good night my little lord."
Later that night, after her guests had gone home, Lady Margaret wandered to the orchard. It was one of her favorite places.
I am getting older. Allan...I can't expect him to get back in time...in time for another baby like Alisdair. I want...I want....another baby.
She listened to the kingdom, seemingly asleep. She could hear the crickets, the ocean, and Widow Gray's dog. The poor dog. Still waiting for Widow Gray to come home.
Lady Margaret look 'round.
No sign of another person...but just to be certain...
Lady Margaret drew closer to the house wall. She leaned over carefully.
She watched the pollen and seeds float down. They mixed in the breeze and then-
"Robert, Robert Morse."
"Oh Robert. Allan is going to love you."
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