A Lord for Haughmond (42 page)

     She nodded.

     “Love will be our sure defense.” He smiled and reached a hand toward her. “Should we not begin?”

     Katherine hesitated, fearing he would be vexed by her need for reassurance. “One more boon I ask.”

     His hand dropped away. “And that is?” he asked, his voice touched with caution.

     “Is it ambition that brought you to me? I would not like to think ’twas my benefit alone that lured you to my side.”

     A relieved smile filled his face. “Dearest Katherine, I was first charmed by you then enchanted once you were mine. ’Twas love alone that drove me, love alone that keeps me. I had one glimpse of paradise, one night when a lovely maiden came to me and allowed me full use of her.”

     Blushing, she turned her head. Memories of that night flooded her mind with desire and flushed her body with need. The remembrances of that night had not diminished one jot. Every touch, every word, every sensation of desire was imprinted in her flesh, in her blood, in her heart. Like a brand, for all eternity.

     “Just one glimpse, Sweetling.”

     Her gaze darted back to her husband.

     He continued, “I was smitten and you have held my heart henceforth. In this solemn moment you needs know that I revere the blessed sacrament of marriage. Many husbands have no care for their wives. But I am not one of them. Loneliness has been a cruel and discerning master. I avow it will make me a better husband.”

     “Are we truly wed?”

     “Truly, to have and to hold.” His smile lengthened, his blue eyes danced with joy. “Could we not begin?”

     She moved toward the bed and took his extended hand. With his other, he gently grasped the back of her head, drawing her face down to his until their lips met. All their hunger poured into the sweetest of kisses.

     He pulled her atop him, drawing her across his frame. Twisting gently, he let her slip onto the bed and he leaned over her to continue the kiss.

     Under God’s law, she was Rhys’s wife and must submit to his demands. A hot flame of desire burst within her at the heady thought, an ache so sharp it brought a moan surging up her throat.

     Craving the blissful moment when Rhys would become part of her and fill her with his love, craving the glorious pleasure he had once bestowed upon her, she dared touch him. Hard flesh rippling with muscle. His hand brushed her shoulder, plucked loose the ribbons of her bliaud. His hand trembled. From fear or restrained desires? No matter, her heart threatened to burst with happiness.

     Ripe from months of longing, her body responded with a joy that took her breath away. Her flesh throbbed beneath his hands, beneath his searching lips. When he suckled her breasts, flaming heat fanned her depths, sent her desires over the edge, made the exquisite misery impossible to contain. Her hand slid between them. Rhys shifted his hips. Her fingers closed over his manhood. As though it possessed a life of its own, it twitched in her palm. Barely able to breathe from the ache of desire and need, she guided him to her.

     With his hot, unsteady breath in her ear, swiftly and deeply he filled her. With his own unsteady breath matching hers, he plunged again and again, renewing the magical time as before, when she had discovered the depth of desire, the depth of wanting and the depth of love. Her body reeled from the pleasures of Rhys’s ministrations.

     Heaven could be no better.

Chapter Thirty

     A week hence, Dafydd made preparations to depart for Wales. Though she regretted the separation, there was naught Katherine could do to change the circumstances. He was a king’s knight, and the king required him.

     Because she could, and because she wanted her husband safe—because she was desperate to have him return in one piece—she sent twenty of her household soldiers with him, bidding them to see their lord well protected. After doing all she could to safeguard the future happiness of their marriage, she stood on the western wallwalk with Anne, shivering in the bitter February wind, watching until the last of the troop disappeared across the western plain toward Shrewsbury.   

     Grateful for the time they had had together, the only time they had spent as husband and wife, she could cherish the memories in the weeks ahead, memories of lying within her husband’s arms each night, relishing his strength and his tenderness. With the death of her babe, she had lost hope. With the Welsh ambush, Dafydd had lost strength. Yet both of them were healing and feeling the joys of life once more. Truly, she was at peace with herself and with her husband.

*  *  *

     The fighting in Wales dragged on without resolution. Determined to end resistance with all haste, Edward did not wait for surrender but marched inland from his base at Rhuddlan. They took Dolwyddelan Castle. Establishing a garrison at Bangor, his forces swept along the coast to Harlech.

     Across Shropshire, rumors abounded. Another muster had been ordered at Montgomery for May? More infantry was to be recruited? Foodstuffs were required from the Marcher castles? Diligently, Katherine sought to comply with each new report. Her steward soon sprouted a perpetual scowl as he labored beneath her edicts.

     Anxious for Dafydd’s safety, she paid the outrageous expense of a private courier, who beat a daily path betwixt Wales and Haughmond, for she determined to keep in constant contact with her husband. Travelers were welcomed and troubadours added to the ranks of visitors, their news from Wales eagerly received.

     So Katherine knew Edward planned to move his headquarters from Rhuddlan to Conwy, where he would build a fortification. She knew when royal forces based at Montgomery and those of William de Valence at Aberystwyth, converged on the stronghold of Castell-y-Bere, and when it surrendered. With its fall King Edward contemplated a major campaign into the middle of Wales. In the meantime, he divided old kingdoms into new shires in the English mode, transforming Wales into a royal colony.

     Parties of soldiers went out seeking Prince Llywelyn’s brother, who had proclaimed himself the Prince of Wales since Llywelyn’s death in December. The new defender of Gwynedd was proving elusive. Into Meirionydd, Ardudwy and Penllyn the English troops surged, engaging sparse resistance. To appease their frustrations, they freely ransacked the stone hovels for booty and burned whatever remained. In an unusually lengthy missive Dafydd shared his bitter regret in not being able to prevent the pillage.

     At last, in late spring, Llywelyn’s brother was surrounded in a boggy stretch of ground, given up by his own countrymen bent on royal reward. ’Twas a short struggle and the capture swift. Removed to Rhuddlan, along with his wife, seven daughters and two sons, his wounds were patched sufficiently so he could stand trial. ’Twas a foregone conclusion he would be condemned to die. A large number of his comrades—those who had not deserted—were taken by the king’s troops and marched off to England to ensure a lasting peace.

     Peace! Such gladsome news!

     Sitting with Anne in the solar, Katherine could not help the smile tugging at her lips. A new missive had just been delivered into her hands. Her heart skipped a beat, for Dafydd would soon return.

     Peace! The fighting would end. Her husband would be released from his royal duties. He would come home to Haughmond. The lord’s chamber would no longer be lonely in the dark of night.

     From afar, Anne’s voice brought Katherine back to reality. She had her own letter and smiled with equal happiness. “Simon has won his spurs. He is a knight. We can wed, should the king allow it.”

     “My husband will demand it, no doubt.” Katherine’s smile broadened and she teased, “He complains of the manner in which that squire moons over you and neglects his duties.”

     Anne laughed. “’Twill be a happy day. And for you, sister, thereto. ’Tis amazing how well it turned out.”

     ’Twas amazing, indeed. Though Anne might have reservations, she knew her sister would accept Dafydd into the family, once his secret was told. Was he not the same noble and honorable knight they had first known on the road to Warwick? His depiction as Rhys had already swayed her sister’s affections. ’Twould be a gladsome day when all secrets were ended.

     Breathless with anticipation and happiness, Anne laughed again. “Will you first tell your husband of my happy news or that of your new babe?”

     A glow of contentment surrounded Katherine. “’Twill be quite obvious once he spies my face, methinks.” Few had a second chance at happiness. She was doubly blessed, with another chance at marriage and motherhood.

     Anne grasped her hand. “Your happiness knows no bounds. Let us plan a feast for their arrival, a festival to celebrate their return, and to celebrate an end to this Welsh conflict. We shall live happily ever after!”

     Katherine returned her sister’s smile indulgingly. “Yea, Anne, we will be happy.” Yet a niggling doubt disturbed her. Ever after was so very long.

*  *  *

     Dafydd and his soldiers arrived at Haughmond ahead of his latest missive, causing momentary consternation, until his banner was recognized by the lookout. Katherine raced to the bailey with a shriek of pleasure.

     He carried with him precious baggage, Prince Llywelyn’s orphaned daughter. Her mother, the king’s niece, had died giving birth. The Welsh nurse who accompanied little Gwenllian was all the babe had left. That, and the royal orders that sent her to the convent of Sempringham. When she was older she would take religious vows. Plainly, the king intended to put an end to the Welsh royal line.

     The small entourage had not been on the road many days but owing to the Welsh nurse’s severe case of saddle fatigue, they would bide at Haughmond for a day or two.

     Katherine, quite against her will was drawn to little Gwenllian, whose dimpled feet kicked in accompaniment to the merry music in the great hall. She found contentment in the engaging child, knowing she would have the joy of holding her own new babe.

*  *  *

     Within the week Daffyd and Simon returned to Haughmond from Sempringham, having safely ensconced Llywelyn’s infant daughter in the nunnery.

     In the meantime, new orders had arrived from Wales.

     Having moved his headquarters out of Rhuddlan, the king was developing plans for a new fortification on the Conwy estuary. Dafydd and the newest knight of Haughmond, Sir Simon, had been ordered to repair there, to provide protection for the skilled craftsmen gathering in Bristol and York. Soon, along with the huge orders of stone and timber, artisans would arrive to build the new fortification and walled city in Wales. 

     All hopes for a celebration and loving nights evaporated into thin air. Edward’s knights would depart early the following morn. One night in Dafydd’s arms was not sufficient. Katherine determined to follow him to Conwy.

     “Impossible! And you with child?” he thundered.

     Since she had told him of the new babe, he treated her like a delicate vase.

     She liked it not. Yet clearly he treasured her.
That
she found endearing, along with his teasing request for her to act as his squire and help him dress, which she was doing when she suggested she join him at Conwy.

     With his hand frozen in midair, Dafydd paused in tying his left linen stocking and frowned at her. “Many of the Welsh are deserting, attempting to make peace with Edward before his vengeance runs them aground. Villages have been torched and people scattered, large numbers of them scavenge for sustenance. I will not have you upon the road and at the mercy of marauders. They would prey upon a helpless woman and an English one at that.”

     “But I would be under your protection,” Katherine dared to venture, though her husband’s expression looked determined as stone.

     He shook his head. “You will remain within the safety of Haughmond. I will not have you risk your life in such dangerous times. A few weeks wait is all that remains.” He took her into his arms. “Be at peace and protect yourself.” His large bronzed hand swept along the line of her neck then cradled her cheek. “’Tis the safest abode in such unsettled times.”

     When she frowned and sighed, he caught her chin with his fingertips and canted his head to peer into her unhappy face. “I will have your word, madame, so that I need not worry over this matter and can attend the king’s business.”

     “Yea,” she whispered and reached on tiptoe to bury her face in the crook of his neck, her arms going about his frame. His other linen stocking slipped to the floor from her hand. “But I like it not. I shall miss you.”

     “And I, you,” came an impassioned response against her ear.

     “Particularly at night,” she murmured, placing light kisses against the hard cord of his neck.

     Dafydd’s grip tightened when she pressed her hips to his, moving quite blatantly against the front of his wool chausses.

     “’Tis not fair, the spell you do weave,” he groaned, catching hold of her buttocks through her embroidered wool bliaud and clasping her to him.

     She offered him a coy smile through her lashes.

     “Aye, you are a naughty wench.”

     “A willing wife is never so christened, my lord.” Katherine tried to loosen his hold.

     Dafydd chuckled and yanked her closer. “I shall beseech the king to grant me leave aplenty in which to sate your endless passions.”

     “And leave me with a babe at each breast?” she murmured with a laugh, relishing the feel of his hard body.

     “Nay, you are a wife first, a mother second. I will have no babe coming betwixt us.”

     She touched her flat belly. “When I grow heavy with this child, time will see the truth of your delusions, my lord,” she quipped.