A Memory of Love (45 page)

He didn't know whether to laugh or scold her. Either one, he realized, would meet with the sharp edge of her tongue. He wisely remained silent.

And then on the first of June Rhonwyn went into labor, Maybel and Enit by her side. “If you ever do this to me again,” his wife shrieked at him, “I will kill you! Ahhhh! Ohhhh! God, I hate you!”

Rafe de Beaulie fled the solar and wisely retreated outside, away from what was very obviously woman's work. From the open windows he could hear Rhonwyn cursing with her efforts. Finally as the sun was near to setting, and the day was prepared to melt into a long summer's twilight, Rafe de Beaulie heard the cry of a child. The sound was strong and angry. He raced into the house and up the staircase, bursting into the solar to find Rhonwyn smiling and cradling an infant.

“You have a son, my lord,” she told him cheerfully. She held out the baby, still bloody with the birth, and his father took him into his hands. “Welcome, Justin de Beaulie,” Rafe said softly, and then looking at Rhonwyn, he said, “Thank you, wife.”

“Give him to Enit,” she commanded, a maternal tone in her voice. “Why Justin?”

“Today 'tis St. Justin's feast day, wife,” he told her.

“I like it,” Rhonwyn told him. “ 'Tis a strong name, and he will not be like every Edward or Henry or John. I suppose we shall have to name the others with those names.”

“You said you didn't want any others,” he said, surprised.

“
What?
When did I ever say such a thing?” Rhonwyn said indignantly. “Of course we are going to have more children, Rafe. We must have at least two more sons, and a daughter or two for me. I promised a daughter to my aunt. The other must make a fine marriage. What foolishness! Who ever heard of just one child?” She laughed.

“Just take her at her word, my lord,” Maybel murmured softly. “Women are strange in the last weeks of childbirth, but all is well once they have given birth to their babe.”

Katherine and Edward were called from Haven to stand as Justin's godparents. Father John came with them. Kate cooed over the baby and said he was quite the handsomest little fellow she had ever seen, excluding her own two boys.

“Have you sent word to your father?” she asked Rhonwyn.

“Aye,” Rhonwyn said shortly.

“And Brother Glynn?”

Rhonwyn smiled broadly. “I know he is excited for us, Kate. I only wish he might have been here, but he is not allowed to travel until next year, even to see us. When the next child comes he shall be its godparent. Perhaps we shall go to Shrewsbury before next winter and visit him at the abbey. I know that will be permitted.”

“They say King Edward has come home. Soon we will have a coronation, although Edward and I shall not be invited. Only the great lords and those attempting to curry favor will go.”

“Let them,” Rhonwyn said. “I prefer my simple life here at Ardley, as you prefer your life at Haven. We are through with the powerful. At least until it comes time to marry off our children.”

“I was hoping you would have a daughter for our little Ned,” Kate said. “But he is only two, and there is plenty of time for you to have a little girl.”

“I would like a daughter,” Rhonwyn admitted.

“I am so glad you finally had a child,” Kate told her sis-ter-in-law. “I was so afraid that you were barren. Edward said you probably were because of your boyish activities. And you will be wed two years this Lammastide.”

“I prayed to Saint Anne,” Rhonwyn said piously, silently furious that her former husband, that betrayer, should have spoken of her so. If he weren't married to Rafe's sister, she thought, I would slice his ears off for that insult. Barren indeed!

In early September they took Justin to meet his uncle in Shrewsbury. Glynn was delighted by their visit, and the abbot freed him from his duties to spend time with his sister and her family. Justin was a fat and goodnatured infant with his father's gray blue eyes and a fuzz of gold upon his mostly bald pate. He cooed, smiled, and drooled for his uncle, who was mightily impressed and said so as Justin grabbed Glynn's finger and attempted to put it in his mouth—except he could not quite find his mouth to match the finger with it.

They returned to Ardley, prepared to finish the harvest and ready the manor for the coming winter. In Shrewsbury they had learned that the king had been crowned at Westminster on August nineteenth. They planned to share their gossip with Edward and Kate and were surprised to find Edward awaiting them.

“Where the hell have you been?” the lord of Haven demanded of his cousin, ignoring Rhonwyn completely. “I have been here for several hours. Your servants said you were due back today, but they did not know when you would come.”

“We have been in Shrewsbury to see Glynn and show him his nephew,” Rafe replied. “What is the matter with you, Edward?”

“Katherine has been kidnapped!”

“What?”
Both Rafe and Rhonwyn spoke at once.

“My wife has been kidnapped!” He turned his gaze upon Rhonwyn. “And it is all
your
fault, damn you!”

“My fault?”
Rhonwyn was astounded. “Why should it be my fault, Edward? I bear you and Kate no ill will.”

“The Welsh have taken her,” he half shouted. “They thought she was you!”

“
Me?
Why would the Welsh want to kidnap me?”

“Not you.
Ap Gruffydd's daughter!
” he roared.

“Jesu!” Rafe exploded.

“Of course!” Rhonwyn exclaimed.

“What is it?”
both men asked her at once.

“It could be any of several reasons,” Rhonwyn explained. “It is possible someone wishes to curry favor with King Edward and thinks to hold me hostage in exchange for my father's good behavior. Or it could be that someone simply wants to topple Prince Llywelyn and means to do it by threatening him with his daughter's life. I would not expect my father to bargain for my life, and he knows that I comprehend him well enough to understand that. Had I been kidnapped, I should have attempted escape, but failing that I would fling myself from a battlement before I would allow my father's fate to be directed by such a dishonorable act. Either way they have the wrong woman, and we must find out where poor Kate is and mount a rescue.”

“What a pity you did not think this same way when you were captured by the infidels,” Edward said bitterly. Then he staggered back as Rhonwyn slapped him as hard as she might.

“How dare you preach to me, you pompous bastard!” she shouted. “This is an entirely different situation that Kate finds herself in than the one in which I found myself. I stayed alive to come home to you, Edward, but you did not care enough for me to wait. This, however, is not about you or about me. It is Kate we have to think of now.”

“Agreed,” Rafe said quietly, putting an arm about his wife. “Swallow your bruised pride, Edward, and finally accept that by acting in haste you lost Rhonwyn, but a merciful God allowed you to gain a good wife in my sister. Put her first, and let us decide how we are to proceed.”

“Wine!” Rhonwyn called to her servants, and then she led them to the fireplace and motioned the two men to sit down even as she took the tapestried chair. “We must find out who has taken Kate and where they are. To this end I will send a messenger to my father telling him what has happened to her so he may be on his guard against any other betrayal. Where was Kate when she was taken, Edward, and where were you when it happened?”

“Word had come from my village of Ainslea that fever had broken out among the children. Katherine, good chatelaine she is, packed up her medicines and herbs and rode off with her serving woman to minister to the sick. When she did not return by late the next day nor had sent any message, I went with a half dozen men-at-arms to learn why. I found the village burnt and looted. The women and children had been taken off as slaves and the men slain, but for one elderly man they left alive to tell me of what had happened. He said they told him to tell the lord of Haven Castle that the Welsh had stolen his wife, and that they wanted no ransom. They merely wanted possession of ap Gruffydd's daughter for a bit. She would be returned alive eventually if I made no effort to follow them.”

Edward swallowed down the entire contents of his goblet, then flung the cup aside, his head in his hands. “Jesu! Jesu! What am I to do? My sweet Kate is not used to a rough life as you are, Rhonwyn. She will die for certain. I should have been able to protect her!”

“Kate is strong,” Rafe said. “They believe she is ap Gruffydd's daughter, and so she will be safe, for they only want her person for leverage against the prince for one reason or another.”

“But what if they learn she is not ap Gruffydd's daughter?”

“They are unlikely to,” Rhonwyn said. “None but the men at Cythraul and the nuns at my aunt's abbey knew who I was nor what I looked like. Few of you English do either. Daughters of great men, particularly bastard daughters, are of no importance but for the marriages they make. These men who stole Kate away did not know that our marriage had been dissolved, Edward, and that you had remarried another. They thought Kate was me, and Kate is clever enough to keep them believing it. In this part of the world the English, if they cannot speak our tongue, at least undersand enough of it to get by.” She looked to her husband. “Did Kate?”

“Aye. Actually she used to converse fairly well in your tongue-twisting language, wife,” Rafe said with a small smile. “We had a Welsh nurse as children.”

“Then having understood them from the first, Kate will continue to make them believe she is ap Gruffydd's daughter and be safe,” Rhonwyn said. “Now we must learn just who has stolen her, and for that I will go into Wales and meet with my father. The messenger who finds him will tell him to come to Cythraul. It is the obvious place.”

“Why should you go?” Edward demanded angrily. “I should go.”

“Hah,” Rhonwyn said mockingly. “Do you think my father will speak with you, Edward de Beaulie, or give you his full cooperation?
After what you did to me?
Llywelyn ap Gruffydd is just as apt to kill you as speak with you. You mean nought to him. You have no blood tie with him. Go home and find a wet nurse for my godson, who will die without his mother if you do not. Rafe and I will go into Wales and retrieve Kate for you. There is no shame in your remaining with your sons, my lord.”

“What of your son?”

“My milk was not rich enough for Justin, and he already has a wet nurse,” Rhonwyn said sadly. “Go home, Edward, and wait for us to send word.” She patted his hand in a kindly fashion, for the first time realizing that her bitterness toward him was now entirely gone. Then she said, “And, Edward,
please, I beg of you,
do not attempt to follow us or join us at Cythraul. It is likely that Kate's captors know you by sight. They will not know who Rafe and I are, however.
Trust us.
”

“I always trusted you, Rhonwyn,” he said quietly.

She shook her head. “Nay, you did not, but that is water beneath the bridge long past, Edward. My anger is gone, and I only wish to bring Kate home safely to you. Go now and watch over your sons. Kate would want that.”

He nodded and then took up her gloved hand, kissing it. “Thank you,” he said.

She nodded. “Not yet, my friend.”

When Edward de Beaulie had gone and they sat at their high board eating venison stew, Rafe said, “We'll need a good night's sleep if we are to start off tomorrow.” He tore a chunk of bread from the cottage loaf and sopped up some of the stew's winey gravy before popping it into his mouth.

“Nay, we'll go the day after tomorrow,” Rhonwyn answered him. “I want to send Oth off in the morning to find my father. He'll need a day's start. Then you, Dewi, and I will go to Cythraul.”

“Just the three of us?” He was surprised.

“I have a fortress of men-at-arms who are loyal to my father. We will only attract attention if we ride out to Wales with a large party, Rafe. This is a battle that will be won with subtlety, not blunt force.”

“I did not think your father was a man of subtlety,” he said.

“He can be when necessary. You have never met ap Gruffydd. Do not prejudge him by the gossip you have heard. He is a great man for all our differences. He has welded together a country of petty princelings and lords, and held firm. Aye, he has enemies. Do not all powerful men, husband? Will you tell me that our own King Edward has no enemies among his subjects? That there are not those eager to do him a mischief, given the opportunity?”

“How did a little lass raised in a hill fort learn so much about the powerful?” he asked her.

“Men claim that women gossip, but they talk more. I listened,” she replied with a smile. “No one paid attention to a small child by the fireside, Rafe. They chattered and bragged and boasted, and I harvested their words for the truth. I did not learn how to weave or cook or sew at Cythraul. I did not learn manners, or about God, or how to play a musical instrument. I learned how to wield my alborium and my sword. I learned how men rule and what drives them to rule. For a woman it was a mostly useless education. Now, however, I will dredge up all the knowledge I gained at Cythraul, and it will help me to win your sister's freedom.”

“I think,” he said slowly, “that I should be afraid of you, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn. Of your mother there is nought said, but much is spoken of your father, and you are obviously very much Llywelyn's daughter.”

“I know,” she answered him. “It is something I have fought against my whole life, Rafe, but the truth is I very much like who I am. There is, they say, no escaping blood.” Then she took his hand up and began to lick the gravy from his fingers. “We will be on the road for several nights and then at Cythraul, where there is, I promise you, no privacy.” She began to suck on his forefinger.

Their eyes met, and then he pulled his hand from her sensual embrace. Taking up his goblet, he drew the potent wine into his mouth while pulling her head to him. As their lips met, he transferred the liquid from his mouth into hers, his tongue sliding past her teeth to meet with her tongue among the heady, hot fumes of the wine. As he broke the long, sweet kiss, Rafe murmured to her, “You are far too conventional, wife. There are places other than a bed where a man and a woman may take their pleasure. Come.” He stood and took her by the hand, leading her before the hall fire.