“Nonsense. You are fit and hearty, but I can see that you will need an assistant. All is perfect, I feel, but Richard worries about that Welsh boy. He says he watches him all the time.”
“And well he might, for that boy is as sly and slithering as a snake and far less trustworthy.”
“We can only pray that he never has the opportunity to betray us.”
“Aye,” the monk said, shaking his head. “Richard will be trying lots of different tasks and maybe out of his way. The Abbot has him down for wine and ale making first and then tending, planting, keeping records, all these things he must try.”
“But he must not go in the infirmary, for you never know who ends up in there!”
“That has been considered, lady, he will be able to pass remedies on if he works for me, but he will not see any patients.”
“I am content that you are all so protective of him and will care for him, as I have done.”
* * * *
Kate arrived home before dark. Efan’s charger was back in the stable, and when she arrived at their apartments, he was there with his mother and Bronwen. Kate went to him and very lightly pressed her lips to his cheek. The look of astonishment on his face would have been comic, had it not also been rather sad.
“Where have you been?” he asked grumpily and since she knew him, and all his ways, she knew it was because of that kiss and his reaction.
“To see Richard. I have a feeling there will be snow any day now, Efan. I am going to bathe. Can you and Mother go elsewhere?”
He acquiesced without demur. Anne and two servants arrived bearing pitchers of hot water. It was a pleasure Kate had long looked forward to. When she had done, not giving way to the temptation to linger too long, she poured some of the rose petal oil onto her palms, then gently massaged it into her skin. The scent was delicious and the oil softened her skin.
She combed out her hair and left it unbound. Since they were supping alone, there was no need to cover it. From her trunk she took an extremely fine chemise and an overdress of fine black wool, elaborately decorated with gold brocade. Anne laced the back and confirmed that Kate had practically regained her trim shape.
When he came to sup, Efan talked of mundane things. Had they enough meat and fuel in case this cold snap went on into April? Would the late snow and frost damage the crops?
He ate very little and drank even less, though the wine was the finest the cellar could provide.
When it was time for honey cakes, Kate selected one and, leaving her seat, went to the lord and lowered herself onto his knee. He remained impassive as she slipped the tiny sweet cake into his mouth. He chewed it slowly. Kate allowed her fingers to unlace his shirt and dared to slide a hand inside. His shoulder was hard against the excited tips of her fingers. They moved downwards, over the wall of his chest to the tight hardness of his nipple. She lingered there, her index finger making soft circling motion on the taut center. He gasped ever so slightly, then moved quickly so that in a moment she was in the chair and he was over her, his mouth devouring her own, his hands inside her gown.
Later as dawn crept into the sky, they lay entwined, reluctant to allow even sleep to part them.
She said it first, allowed it to slip out as his body plundered her own. “I love you. I love you.” And then he had exploded deep inside her so she knew, without him ever saying, that this was what he had desired to hear above all.
Later he confessed to love as the reason for so many wild emotions, for this unreasonable jealousy of both the Abbot and the late king. For desiring her and yet finding himself unable to tell her, since he feared rejection and also a loss of power.
He had been afraid to be her pawn. Love, an alien emotion to him was frightening. He saw it as debilitating rather than inspiring.
“And now?” she asked softly.
“I long only to be debilitated for all the days of my life. My woman, my love.”
* * * *
Come the Spring and the melting of the snow, the lady and her husband rode over to the Abbey together. The Abbot greeted them warmly, then sent for Richard. While they waited his arrival the Abbot and they exchanged what little gossip they had.
“Our Brothers had a mild attack of some stomach complaint, all had it but I,” the Abbot said, “and Brother Rhys, unfortunately was worse than all of us. I am afraid he passed away.”
Efan and Kate exchanged a glance, then Richard came into the room like a bright burst of hot sunshine, smiling, handsome, glowing and they both knew they would never sully their new found happiness with the suspicion about the Welsh boy’s death.
Perhaps it had been after all God’s will, and not the will of some other.
Seed of the Broom Page 19
