She came to stand an arm’s length away. He resisted the urge to pull her into an embrace. Lovemaking might entice her for now, but he feared it would not truly change her mind. “I would like you to be my wife. If that’s not what you wish, I will not push you. But I will not marry any other woman either. I could not. My vows would be a lie. You are the only woman for me.”
She moved closer. “As you are the only man for me.”
He waited, expecting her to qualify or temper her words of affection. When she said nothing, he continued, “I promise I will not ask you to give up your healing, or resent the time you spend caring for others. Your skills are important to the people of Higham, as you have said. I would not interfere with that.”
She nodded.
“And I would not ask you to dress or behave like an Englishwoman. Or to be my chatelaine or take on any responsibilities at the castle. There are plenty of people at Higham to take care of those tasks. I will also not ask you to leave your cottage.” He gestured. “’Tis your home.”
“Ah, William, you are always the most reasonable and considerate of men. I did not think any man could be like that. Certainly not a brutish English knight.” Her smile widened.
Again, he waited breathlessly. At any moment she would start giving him all the reasons things would not work between them.
But then, suddenly, he realized Rhosyn – who seldom smiled – was grinning. And she’d made a jest about him being a brutish English knight. Rhosyn never jested. This woman, who looked exactly like the Rhosyn he loved, was somehow different. There was a lightness in her manner. A playfulness. What could account for the change? Dare he hope…
She moved closer. Touched his arm. “I love you, William. I can’t be parted from you. ’Twould be no life at all. I don’t know how things will work out between us. But I am willing to try to find a way for us to be together. I will not live in fear of the future. No one knows what will happen. How long any of us may have to live. I think we should seize this moment and enjoy our love.”
He still waited. Surely there was something more. But then she moved near, reached up on tiptoe and kissed him. He pulled her close and kissed her back. “Rhosyn, my love.”
“Cariad,” she murmured. “Beloved.”
Chapter Thirty
Rhosyn handed Cinder’s reins to the waiting groom and gazed in dismay at the muddy bailey. It had been raining for days and the castle yard was a mass of mud. How would she ever get to the castle forebuilding without ruining her shoes or losing them altogether? To her relief, she saw William making his way towards her. His size helped him slog through the muck.
“How is little Emme faring?” he asked.
“Her fever has broken. But I worry Merilda’s other two children will fall ill. I’ve told Amara what to do if that happens.”
“What of you? How do you fare?”
“I’m soaked to the skin, but otherwise well enough.”
“I’ve had the bathtub taken up to the bedchamber and filled. Would you like me to attend you?”
“Better to have Esme do it. Too easy for you to get distracted.”
“Probably true.”
Their eyes met in a provocative exchange. William gestured to the morass of mud. “Let me carry you the rest of the way.”
“Are you certain? It looks treacherous.”
“I can make it.”
William picked her up and started across the yard. “Do I feel heavier?” she asked.
“Hardly. I doubt you’ve gained even half a stone.”
Rhosyn could not help smiling. It had been rather a shock to learn she was expecting a babe. It would make her life even more complicated, but even so, she would not change things. William had been panicked at first. They had discussed his first wife dying and his terror of losing another woman to childbirth. It had not been easy but she’d gradually eased his fears. She told him that no woman in her line had ever had difficulty giving birth and she was confident that all would be well. And she was confident. Having William’s child was her destiny.
She did not speak as William concentrated on his footing. As they neared the keep, she asked, “Have any of our guests arrived?”
“Not yet. I’m certain the weather has delayed them. In truth, I’m pleased we have a little more time to prepare. I wanted to ask your opinion on something. Elspeth has readied the guest bedchamber. Will your cousin be insulted if we offer it to Prince Eurig?”
“Who knows with Owen? But if he does feel slighted, I’m certain I can smooth it over. And Eurig is the one you must convince to agree to an alliance. Now that he’s banished his brother, driven off Roscales and defeated Bellame, Eurig controls nearly all of Morgannwg, including Cardiff. I don’t think he will be that concerned about raiding Higham.”
“Do you think he can hold what he’s won?”
“For now. John has much bigger problems to deal with. And since Bellame is allied with the de Clares, as is that coward Roscales, and the de Clares are on the outs with John, that should make the king even less inclined to worry about Bellame’s downfall.”
They passed through the castle hall and reached the stairs. William put her down. “Does it worry you that Bellame is still alive?” The combined forces of Eurig ap Ifan and Owen, aided by a few of William’s knights, had managed to take over Cardiff, but Bellame had slipped away.
“I don’t fear anything while I have you at my side.” William gave her a tender look. Again the atmosphere between them turned heated.
“I must get ready,” she murmured. “You don’t want me to meet Prince Eurig looking like this.” She motioned to her mud-stained bliaut.
“I think you are beautiful no matter what you wear. But I do want to see you in your new gown. I’ve been imagining how lovely you will look in that shimmering blue samite we purchased at the Shrewsbury market. And to see you wear it with the dragon pendant.”
“A pity the bliaut will only fit me for a month or two. Although perhaps Gisella could take out the seams.”
“Or she could make you another one. The cloth merchant will likely pass through here after Easter.”
“You spoil me.”
William leaned down to kiss her. “It pleases me to do so.”
Reluctantly, Rhosyn broke off the kiss. “I must get ready.”
He turned to leave her.
“Oh, I near forgot. Can you take my healing supplies to the stillroom? I don’t want to go out in the mud again.” She held out the leather satchel.
He took it. “If you wished to keep your herbs and healing things up in the solar, I would not object. Especially now.” His gaze went to her still-flat stomach.
“That is generous of you, but having my stillroom near the castle kitchen and garden is much more convenient. And now that Gwellian is helping me gather herbs and prepare medicines, I don’t have to do nearly as much.”
Merion had consented to let Gwellian wed Ralf and the young woman had come to live at the castle. Rhosyn had been pleased to have a fellow Cymrae around, and even more pleased when she discovered Gwellian had some knowledge of and an interest in herbs.
William left her and Rhosyn climbed the winding stairs to the tower. As she did so, she thought about how easily she had gotten used to living at the castle. She still missed some things about her cottage, but not nearly as much as she expected. In a way, she was no different than Melyn Bach, who had settled into life at the castle as if she had been born to it.
When she arrived in the solar, the cat was sleeping on a cushioned stool. Melyn Bach opened her gold eyes briefly, then closed them again, like a disdainful queen. Since her kittens had grown up and been moved to the stables, she ruled the upper area of the castle.
Gisella was sitting by the window, sewing. Rhosyn went to her and leaned over to admire her tunic she was embroidering. “Your work is so fine. I could never begin to create anything so beautiful. My sewing skill is limited to stitching up wounds.”
Gisella looked up and gave her a shy
smile. “That is certainly more important than the kind of sewing I do.”
Rhosyn was pleased to see Gisella was growing more comfortable with her new life. The reeve’s wife had been so withdrawn and timid when she first came to live at the castle. ’Twas not surprising given how Hearne had abused her. It had been shocking to learn Gisella could never have children because Hearne had beaten her so badly when she was pregnant that she had not only lost the babe, but her body was permanently damaged.
Realizing that a barren woman had few prospects for finding another husband, William had asked Gisella to join the castle household. It had all turned out wonderfully when they discovered Gisella had talent at needlework and other skills that made her a perfect lady’s maid. As the daughter of Roscales’s seneschal, Gisella had grown up serving Lady a. Then she had made the unfortunate decision to marry Hearne, and her life had become a nightmare.
How traitorous and scheming Hearne had been. Working with Roscales before he left, the reeve had plotted to undermine William and eventually, to kill him. Thinking of it made Rhosyn shudder.
She pushed the disturbing thought away and turned her attention back to Gisella’s work. “You’ve done a fine job combining a dragon with a griffin, so the house of Fitzhugh and the symbol of Wales appear to be connected.”
“Lord Fitzhugh suggested it.” Gisella held up the tunic of finely woven dark red wool so Rhosyn could see it better.
“’Tis beautiful. The dragon is so life-like.”
Gisella smiled faintly. “That is truly a compliment, considering that dragons don’t exist.”
“Well, perhaps not here, but in Wales, who knows?” Rhosyn grinned back at Gisella.
“Do you still miss your homeland?”
“I miss my friend Orla, and I miss my mother, God rest her soul. But otherwise, I am content.” In truth, she was far more than content. Her life seemed perfect. She lived the life of a pampered noblewoman’s wife, yet also had the freedom to continue her work as a healer. What other man besides William would allow his wife to run off to deliver babies and tend fevers and wounds?
She glanced again at Gisella’s work. “Will it be finished so William can wear it tonight?”
Gisella held up the garment. “I want to add a few more details to the border, but he can wear it as it is.” She put down the tunic and stood. “Speaking of being ready, you should get to your bath before the water grows cold.”
A short while later, Rhosyn had finished her bath, rubbed her skin with rose oil and the maidservant, Esme, had brushed her hair and helped her into the blue samite gown and fastened the dragon pendant around her neck. William arrived in the solar and stood watching her. “I knew the color would suit you, but I could not imagine this. You look like a queen.” He gestured to the pendant. “A Cymry queen.”
“A queen must have a consort. A handsome and courageous one.” She drank in the sight of William, so big and strong, with his proud, masculine features and dazzling blue eyes.
“I will… ah… see to having the pages empty the tub.” Esme hurried from the bedchamber.
Feeling the heat grow between them, Rhosyn steeled herself against herself the potent desire. “There is still so much to do and our guests could arrive at any time.”
“I promise I will be satisfied with a kiss. A long and delicious one.”
“A kiss, aye. And then we will go down.”
William drew near and pulled her into an embrace. As his lips met hers, Rhosyn knew that she was the most fortunate of women.
About the Author
I am fascinated by history, as well as Celtic myth and legend. These interests inspire and enrich most of my books, both historical romance and historical fantasy. Raised in the Midwest, I currently live in Wyoming with my husband, four cats and a dog. Besides writing and working (I’m employed in a public library) I enjoy gardening, travel and reading, of course!
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