A Memory of Love (17 page)

Glynn returned from Shrewsbury eager to recount his travels and small adventures. Rhonwyn had never known her brother to be so very talkative. “I saw ships that came upriver from Cardiff,” he said excitedly. “And the abbey and the churches, sister! And the markets with all their goods and the shops! Never have I seen their like. I ate a pomegranate, Rhonwyn! It's a fruit from the south. There is so much more to the world than I could have believed possible. I want to travel some more when I am older. I shall earn my way singing my ballads in inns and festivals and noble courts.”

“First you must finish your education,” Rhonwyn told him. “And as much as I dislike mentioning it, our sire may have something to say about what you make of your life, Glynn ap Llywelyn. He may even plan a marriage for you as he did for me.”

“Not until I have traveled the world,” Glynn said firmly, and for the first time she saw ap Gruffydd in her brother.

As they sat at the high board that evening, Edward said to his young brother-in-law, “Would you enjoy going to the abbey school in Shrewsbury, Glynn?”

“Could I?” the boy asked, his eyes wide with hope.

“Perhaps next spring it could be arranged. While you were gone Prince Edward and his wife came unexpectedly to Haven. King Louis of France is planning another crusade to the Holy Land next year. Your sister and I are to accompany the prince. While we are gone you must continue your education. What better place than in Shrewsbury?”

“My lord,” Father John spoke up, “why would the prince come here? We are but a small Marcher holding and not important to him.”

“Edward Plantagenet will sooner than later be En-gland's king, good father. It is for the very reason I am a Marcher lord that he came to Haven-at-Thorley.
And the fact that I am wed to ap gruffydd's daughter.
He seeks to divine my loyalties without asking. There was no way I could refuse him without arousing his suspicions. That my lady wife enthusiastically volunteered to go along has quite raised Prince Edward's esteem of me,” Edward de beaulie finished with a chuckle.

“Why can I not go, too?” Glynn asked.

“Because, brother-in-law, I am certain your father would not allow it. There will be time for you to go on crusade when you are older. For now I think it best, and I believe your father will agree, that you continue your education in Shrewsbury,” Edward replied.

“If you retake the Holy Land, there will be no more crusades,” Glynn said gloomily.

“The Saracens and the Christians have battled back and forth over the holy ground for centuries now, Glynn. There will always be crusades, I fear. Do not despair. You will have your chance one day.”

Martinmas, the feast of St. Martin, was celebrated on November eleventh. A fat goose was slaughtered and roasted to be served in the hall. On November twentyfifth St. Catherine's day was celebrated with Cathern cakes and a beverage called Lambs' Wool, named for the roasted apple that floated in it, which was served in a special Cathern bowl. Edward presented his wife with a special brooch in the shape of a wheel made from silver and onyx. The twelve days of Christmas came and went, and it was January.

Edward de Beaulie was already recruiting men to accompany them on crusade. He had been informed by royal messenger that while he was away, his taxes would be forgiven. He so informed his tenants and serfs that whoever accompanied him would also be excused from their taxes and rents. There was no shortage of volunteers under those conditions. The lord of the castle was able to pick and choose whom he would take with him. By mid-January the one hundred chosen men were hard at work training with bow and pike and stave. They learned how to use a battering ram and a siege weapon called a tarques. They learned how to dig beneath a wall so as to collapse it.

Three young men, from less important families than Edward de Beaulie's and who had already been knighted but sought adventure, came to Haven-at-Thorley to join the lord's party. Such an opportunity was not to be missed, for if they performed well on the field of battle and drew favorable attention to themselves, their fortunes could be made. Sir Fulk, Sir Robert, and Sir Hugo all came with squire, horses, and weapons. They were welcomed and given places in the hall and at the lord's board. They were at first amused by the lady's desire to fight alongside them, but when they learned firsthand of Rhonwyn's skill with weapons, their laughter turned to respect.

Edward bristled silently at his wife's unorthodox behavior. As her passion for the crusade deepened, it seemed she became less interested in a shared passion between them. Yet his desire for her was growing daily, and he was forced on several occasions to restrain his jealousy at the open admiration for Rhonwyn of the three young knights. It was, he well knew, nothing more than esteem on the part of Sir Fulk, Sir Robert, and Sir Hugo. As for Rhonwyn, the company of the knights meant nothing more to her than that of Oth and Dewi. With warriors about her, she simply seemed back in her element once again. Edward de Beaulie was beginning to wish that Edward Plantagenet had never come to Haven with his talk of crusades and with a wife who was both willing and able to follow him. At least the prince had legitimate heirs.

Rhonwyn had never been counted a fool. She sensed her husband's unhappiness and knew there was but one way to placate him. She must allow him possession of her body once more. She wondered if she could do it without showing distaste. She no longer worried about becoming enceinte, for Enit's mother had indeed known just what to use to prevent such an event. Each morning her maidservant brought her a draught to drink, but of course Rhonwyn knew she could never be certain of its effects unless there was the chance of her having a child.

She had to admit she found kissing and caressing less unpleasant than at first. Edward might become passionate with her, but he had never been cruel or rough but for that first night. Rhonwyn counted herself a brave woman. She did not fear battle or even death, but she did fear the marital act. It was simply too all-possessing, but she would have to learn to endure it as she endured the pain of a wound. Edward was a good man, and she owed him not just her loyalty but his rights as a husband. If he repudiated her, her father would be shamed, and she could not allow that to happen.

She gathered all her courage, and that evening before she departed the hall she whispered to him, “Perhaps tonight I am brave enough, my lord, to share my bed with you.” Then she hurried to her chamber in the south tower. As was her custom since being civilized, she bathed and put on a clean chemise. Then she dismissed Enit. She waited, sitting on the edge of her bed as she brushed her long hair.

Coming through the door connecting their bedchambers, he silently took the pearwood brush and skimmed it down the silken length. He did not understand this change of heart that had suddenly affected her, but he sensed he must be tender with her. His arm slipped about her narrow waist to draw her back against him. He nuzzled at her ear, and all the while he brushed and brushed and brushed the swath of hair. Then to her surprise he ceased and efficiently plaited her tresses into a single thick braid, fastening it with the ribbon he pulled from her chemise.

He drew the garment off her shoulders, and it slid to her waist. Kneeling before her, Edward reached up and began to caress her small breasts. She shivered, but did not stop him. His fingers teased playfully at her nipples, arousing her slowly and carefully. Standing now, he drew her up with him and kissed her, his mouth working tenderly over hers. Here, at least, he knew she was not afraid, for his wife enjoyed kissing, it seemed.

Rhonwyn slipped her arms about his neck, and as her bare flesh pressed against his chest, she realized that he wore no clothes. She had been so intensely focused on her own situation that she hadn't even looked at him. Now she felt him against her. His thighs were hairy as was his chest, its fur tickling her. His lips were intoxicating, and for the briefest moment she allowed herself to become lost in his kisses. Then she felt
it
. His manhood burgeoning against her thigh, and she tensed once more. She knew what was to come next. He would cover her body with his big frame and possess her in a way that terrified her. And this time she could not cry out or struggle against him.

“Trust me,”
he begged her, feeling her slender body becoming tight once more. He kissed her closed eyelids, the tip of her nose, the corners of her mouth. Pressing her back onto their bed, he murmured into her ear, “There is pleasure in a man and woman's coming together, my lambkin. Let me share that pleasure with you, Rhonwyn.
Please!
”

“I cannot help how I feel,” she half sobbed. “Please, Edward, my lord, just do what you will with me.”

He rolled away from her, and then propping himself upon his elbow, said angrily, “You are behaving like a whore, damnit! You spread yourself for me, and yet you feel nothing at all.
Why?
”

She was weeping now. “I do not know!” she said.

“Surely ap Gruffydd loved your mam and treated her well,” Edward said, struggling to keep his lust under control.

“He did!” Rhonwyn cried. “Their passion for one another is the stuff legends are made of, I know now. They shut everyone and everything out of their lives, even Glynn and me. Their thoughts were only for each other.”

“Do you fear to love me, Rhonwyn?” he asked her.

“Aye, I do!” she admitted fiercely. “I don't want to lose myself, Edward. Can you understand that?”

“I love you, yet am I any less the man I was when you met me?” he demanded of her.

“You seem kinder,” she whispered. His hand was caressing her quivering belly.

“You make me want to be kinder, Rhonwyn, but that does not mean I have lost control over myself, nor will you if you love me. ap Gruffydd's passion for Vala was a unique occurrence, an obsession they both felt in the powerful attraction they had for one another. Most marriage unions are not like that, my lambkin.”

“What are they like?” she said low. His fingers were tangling themselves in her thick silvery bush. She was fearful, yet found it very exciting, and did not stop him.

“My parents despised one another. They were wed because their lands adjoined each other and my mother was an only child. My father's brother, however, fell in love with his own wife. They were happy together, and they respected one another. They were faithful till death, unlike my parents. My father kept a series of lemans. My mother grew more bitter over it as each day passed, but she would not let him in her bed after she had given him his heir. He died in the bed of one of his other women, and my mother would not wash his body for burial. My aunt came and did it. She was a gentle woman with a forgiving heart. My mother finally died several years ago, of her own bile, I am certain. Only the poor may have the luxury of marrying for love, Rhonwyn, but often those of our class grow to love our mates. I have fallen in love with you, and I feel a fury within me when other men admire you; especially because I know that I cannot have you any more than they can.”

“Oh.”

“It cannot go on between us like this,” he said.

“I know,” she replied.

“Certainly you cannot fear what is familiar to you, wife. From this night on we will share a bed. You know I mean you no harm, but I want you, and by the rood, I shall have you!” His fingers caressed the pink slit that hid all her treasures. He pushed past it and began to tease at the tiny nub of flesh within. Soon she was moist, and he slid a finger deep inside her.

Rhonwyn gasped softly at this unexpected onslaught, but she managed not to cry out. It wasn't really that awful. The digit within her moved slowly. Edward leaned over and began kissing her again, but then without warning his finger was withdrawn and his body was covering hers. Rhonwyn fought with herself not to scream as his weight pressed her down into the feather bed and mattress. His rock-hard manhood slid easily into her this time.

“There, lambkin, is it not better this time?” he murmured into her ear. His breath was hot and moist.

She couldn't speak. She could barely breathe, but she forced herself to embrace him so he should not know her terror, so that he might gain his pleasure from her and leave her be. He moved with increasing rapidity upon her, his manhood driving deep inside her until he collapsed. Finally he rolled away, allowing her to draw a deep breath of relief.

After a time he said sadly, “You had no joy of it, did you, wife?” Taking her hand up, he kissed the fingers individually. “I want you to love me, Rhonwyn, and by God there will come a day when you will!”

“I think I may,” she told him, “and I shall never again deny you your rights, my lord Edward. In time I may come to gain happiness from our bodies joining. I am no longer fearful of your kisses or your touching. The rest will come in time, I know it!” I pray it, she thought silently as he gathered her into his arms and fell asleep. What was it, she wondered, that made her resist so natural a happening? If he had been a cruel man, she might have understood herself better. Still, something niggled at the back of her brain and fretted her over this passion between a man and a woman.