A Moment in Time (16 page)

"You will find Gwyn has already drawn it, my lady Nesta," said Megan.

Nesta hurried out without so much as a backward glance.

"I have taken the liberty of arranging a bath for you also, my lady Wynne," the servant girl said. "Let me help you with your garments. You must be weary after your long ride from Gwernach."

Wynne allowed herself to be led into another room, where a great oak tub bound with large bands of polished brass sat steaming with the evidence of its hot water. Megan swiftly aided her new mistress to remove her clothing and then helped her into the tub.

"Ohhh," Wynne said as the warm water touched her skin. "That's wonderful! Thank you, Megan, for being so thoughtful."

"You will find a stool to sit upon, my lady, and while you enjoy the water I will take your clothing to the laundress."

Only when she had hurried out did Wynne realize that for the first time in days she was totally and completely alone. It was quite a lovely feeling. She glanced about the room.
A bathing room.
It was a most novel and yet practical idea. The tub obviously remained in it all the time and did not have to be put out of sight in some cabinet. Where did the water come from? Wynne wondered. Then as she looked about her, her eye fell upon what she had at first thought to be a stone sink. It was not, however, for about it hung a bucket. This bathing room had its own well for water! The idea was simple and yet so obvious. And, of course, the water was heated in the large fireplace that took up almost an entire wall of the room, for there was a large cauldron hanging to one side away from the flame now. And the fireplace heated the bathing room as well! There was even a window through which she could see those wonderful mountains. It was all most marvelous!

The gardens. A bathing room. The mountains. It wasn't going to be very difficult to be happy here at Raven's Rock. It was, of course, much larger than the manor house at Gwernach had been. She hadn't seen the cook house yet, or the bakery, or met any of the servants, but there was plenty of time for that. It amazed her that the castle was in such good order, considering that Madoc's mother had been dead for several years. Nesta must be an excellent chatelaine, and she had but three months to learn from her all she needed to know about the domestic arrangements if she were to do as well.

Wynne's thoughts came to a screeching halt. What on earth was she thinking? She didn't want to marry, yet here she was considering all she would need to know regarding the concerns of Madoc's home. She was in a trap, and the trap was slowly closing about her. She was being wooed by Madoc's charm and patience, and now by his wonderful castle. It wasn't fair. Everything was conspiring against her, and yet . . . She stemmed the tide of her anger. She must be coolly logical about this situation in which she found herself. What exactly was wrong with it? Why had she been so determined all her life not to marry?

She reviewed the facts in her mind. Her father had betrothed her to Madoc. She was to be free to refuse the marriage if she chose. Madoc had agreed to it. Her father would not have made the match if Madoc were not a good man. Owain ap Llywelyn was not a man to be swayed by wealth and prestige. Madoc was attractive, albeit in a mysterious way. He was kind, thoughtful, and patient. He said he was in love with her and that he wanted her to love him. He offered her a life of comfort and happiness. Logically, she could find nothing wrong with any of this.

Even she, in her sheltered life at Gwernach, had heard of a woman for whom a man's touch was unpleasant. Such was not the case with her. Indeed, she found Madoc's kisses most delightful; and she was quite curious to learn more of passion between a man and a woman. They were long past the time when the Celtic tribes roamed the earth and her people considered physical love between men and women a natural thing to be enjoyed with whomever and whenever the spirit moved one. In these times people were not quite as enthusiastic or open with one another; but passion was not an emotion of which Wynne was afraid. Certainly a woman was free to enjoy the physical aspects of love with her betrothed husband.

A time long past.
The words slid unbidden into her consciousness. The ancient Celts had believed in reincarnation. It was not a teaching of the Church, and yet Wynne had often wondered why the Church did not teach it. There was nothing in reincarnation, as the Celts had believed it, that was at odds with Christ's teachings.
Reincarnation.
It was not talked about a great deal, and yet many still believed. Did she? Was that the reason behind her unexplained antipathy to marriage? And if it was, why?

Had Wynne of Gwernach and Madoc of Powys known each other in another time and another place? And if they had, what had happened that she was so opposed to marriage? She was certainly not opposed to Madoc. Indeed, she was increasingly attracted to him, but it did not seem to be enough. What unfinished business lay between them? Or was she being a fool? Was her aversion to marriage actually fear of the unknown, and was she placing greater importance upon it than it deserved? She determined to put it all, her worries, her curiosity, from her mind. She would concentrate upon accepting her marriage instead of struggling so futilely against what was in reality a most pleasant fate.

The door to the bathing room opened and Megan hurried in, chattering as she came. "I apologize, my lady, for taking so long a time with the laundress." She picked up soap and a cloth and began to wash her new mistress. "Well, actually it wasn't the laundress that kept me. It was that big handsome fellow with the game leg who is your servant. Insisted upon knowing precisely where you were. He's most protective of you."

Wynne laughed. " 'Tis his task, Megan, to watch over me. He has ever since I was a baby. My brother sent him with me to Raven's Rock; but you'd best beware of Einion. He's a merry rascal who loves a pretty wench.
All
pretty wenches for that matter."

"Oh, I could see he has a roving eye," Megan said, her brown eyes twinkling, "but I've a roving eye myself. Now, let's get that beautiful hair of yours washed, my lady. It is filled with the dust of the road!"

Einion, Wynne thought as Megan washed her long hair, had possibly met his match. It would not be a bad thing, for as Einion was to remain at Raven's Rock for the remainder of his days, it was probably time for him to find a wife and settle down. Wynne smiled to herself, wondering what her beloved protector would think of her thoughts, and knowing, even as she began to chuckle over it.

Chapter 5

Her intellect had decided one thing. The voice within disagreed; but Wynne would not listen. She thrust her instinct as far away from her conscious mind as she could and concentrated upon resigning herself to a life at Raven's Rock as Madoc's wife. She began that first night, entering the hall garbed in a beautiful tunic dress of violet silk brocade embroidered with silver flowers. Going directly to Madoc, she had knelt before him, publicly subjugating herself to her lord's will.

The prince, more attuned to Wynne than she could have imagined, quickly raised her up and presented her to his assembled retainers and servants. "I submit to you Wynne of Gwernach, the future princess of Powys. Those of you within her domain will do her bidding without question, and all will render their respect," Madoc said in a strong voice.

"Wynne! Wynne! Wynne!"
came the cry from a hundred throats as she looked out, smiling over the hall.

"You will never kneel to me again, dearling," he told her. "As my wife you are my female equal, my other half." Then he put a goblet of wine in her hand, kissing it as he did so.

They sat at the high board and Wynne said, "There are so many men, my lord. Are there no women here at Raven's Rock but Nesta and the servants?"

"None," he replied. "My mother had no liking for strangers. As she and Nesta were content, I was content. If it displeases you, however, you may invite the daughters of other houses to keep you company."

"When Nesta goes to St. Bride's I shall be alone, my lord. Perhaps my brother will allow my little sister, Mair, to come to us."

"Your grandmother will be lonely without Mair. I can see she quite dotes upon the child," Madoc remarked.

"My mother died quite unexpectedly giving birth to Mair," Wynne told him. "Grandmother has raised Mair, and she is more a daughter to her than a grandchild."

"Your grandmother could come to Raven's Rock if you desired it, my dearling," Madoc offered.

"Grandmother must remain with Dewi," Wynne reminded him. "My brother cannot oversee Gwernach without guidance."

"I promised you that I would send someone to aid the boy, Wynne. Tomorrow you will speak with the man I have chosen to be your brother's bailiff. His name is David. He is a loyal and clever man. When my brother Brys went to Castle Cai, I sent David to be the bailiff. My stepfather was incapable of managing his estate, and Brys was too young and inexperienced. He was, in fact, just Dewi's age. David tells me that they got on quite well. If your instincts warn you otherwise though, you must tell me and I will choose another. If David and Dewi do well together, I think your grandmother would enjoy coming to Raven's Rock. We could offer her great comforts in her old age, and in our house Mair could aspire to a more important family from which to choose a husband than she could at Gwernach. What say you, lady?"

"You are so good, my lord," Wynne answered him ingenuously. "You seem to have a care for my feelings at every turn. I do not know if I shall ever be able to match your solicitude. Yes, I should like to have my grandmother and sister here with me at Raven's Rock if I could be certain my brother was safe."

"David, with your permission, will go to Gwernach shortly; and if all is well with the arrangement, then the lady Enid and Mair will come to live at Gwernach after our marriage," he told her.

"Not before?" Her disappointment was quite evident. "Nesta will be wed at the Solstice. I shall be alone the whole winter long."

He smiled. "I want that time for us, dearling, that we may truly learn to know one another with no other distractions. You will not want for entertainment, I promise you," he said, and his look was suddenly smoldering.

She felt her bones turning to jelly in an all now familiar pattern, and she knew that he knew it. Her breathing was suddenly quick and her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips, which had gone dry. "What is this magic you do, my lord?" she said low.

He smiled a slow smile and, leaning forward, kissed her lips in a leisurely fashion. Wynne found she could not pull away. She wasn't even certain that she wanted to pull away.

"I think the time has come for us to progress past kissing," he told her softly.

"When?" she asked breathlessly, and then blushed, wondering what he must think of such unmaidenly, such unseemly eagerness.

"Very soon," he promised.

"What comes after kissing?" she inquired.

"Caressing," he told her.

"Who caresses whom?"

He chuckled. "I caress you, dearling, and you caress me."

"How do I caress you?" she demanded.

"I will instruct you most thoroughly in the art, you charmingly shameless wench," he said, laughing now.

"Oh, Madoc," she said, and his heart quickened, for she so rarely used his name, "is it wrong for me to be curious and eager? I truly am and I cannot help it. When you kiss me I find I am beset by feelings I do not understand, but I also find I want to go forward that I may learn what follows. I have had no mother to teach me, and Grandmother has said little regarding the relations between men and women."

"Ahh, dearling," he said, and his voice was tight with his own emotions, "I am glad you have
feelings
for me, even if you do not understand them. They are not wrong, and I am glad you do not fear me."

"Madoc, my brother," said Nesta, breaking into their conversation, "I think it is time that Wynne and I retired. We have not slept in a decent bed in several days, and she must be as exhausted as I am."

Wynne arose from the high board and, seeing her do so, Gwyn and Megan left their places at the table, below the salt, to follow their two mistresses from the hall.

The two girls kissed each other good night, and Nesta, yawning copiously, entered her own sleeping chamber gratefully. Wynne had not paid a great deal of attention to her own chamber earlier. Not in the least sleepy, she looked with interest about the room. There was a fine fireplace in which a good blaze now burned, and the room was quite warm and toasty. Beautiful tapestries woven in soft roses, blues, greens, and a natural cream color showed gentle landscapes filled with flowers, birds, and butterflies. They hung from ceiling to floor, covering much of the cold stone walls. Wynne had never seen anything like them.

Her windows opened onto a.mountain and garden view. There were three fine-carved chests for her belongings, a table, a chair with a woven seat and a cushion, and a large, beautiful bed with pale rose curtains that appeared to have been spun from a spider's web, although actually it was simply a delicate sheer wool. Wynne was enchanted by them, for she realized they would keep her bed quite draft-free and yet they were exquisite. The bed was piled high with a featherbed and the most beautiful fluffy white furs she had ever seen.

Megan helped her from her elegant garments, taking even her chemise, to Wynne's surprise; but she quickly replaced it with a loose-fitting garment with long, billowing sleeves. The gown was of the finest sheer linen. "Your sleeping robe, my lady," Megan said as she laced it shut with silken ribbons that ran from navel to neck.

"I've never had one," Wynne admitted. "It's lovely."

"You'll find many things here that exist nowhere else in our land," Megan told her. "Our lord prince has traveled as far as Byzantium." She then walked over to a small door set in the wall and opened it. "Your necessary, my lady," she explained.

Peering in, Wynne saw a small stone bench set between the walls with a neat round hole carved in it. On a shelf above it a bronze oil lamp burned. Next to the seat a pile of neatly folded cloths had been placed. "This is truly amazing," Wynne said.

" 'Tis but one of a thousand things that will astound you, my lady. Raven's Rock is truly like no other place." She shut the door to the necessary and said briskly, "Let me brush out your beautiful hair and then I'll help you into bed, my lady. You must be exhausted with all your travel." She undid the single, heavy braid Wynne favored, untangling it with supple fingers, brushing the hair until it shone like a swatch of black silk, then pinning it up so her mistress could sleep more comfortably.

"There's a bed space for me in the little chamber where I hang your garments, my lady. Your Einion will have his bed space with the prince's body servant, Barris, in our lord's dressing chamber."

"But are you warm enough? Surely the hall would be warmer for you."

Megan was touched by Wynne's concern. "Do not fret, my lady Wynne. The fireplace from my lord's reading chamber backs up against the bed spaces. We are all quite comfortable. The prince would have it no other way. He is a good master and there is none better!"

Wynne had seen this loyalty all day long since their arrival at Raven's Rock; Megan's easy assurances and her obvious devotion to Madoc were all such good signs, Wynne thought after the servant had left her alone. Everything was going to be fine once she accepted it and stopped fretting at every turn.

Wynne tried to sleep, but she couldn't. She was simply too excited by her arrival here and all the wonderful things she had seen this day. Impatiently she arose from her bed, throwing back the lavender-scented sheets and the warm furs. Walking over to her windows, she gazed out. There was a wide crescent moon hanging in the heavens, but it was not so bright that she could not see the myriad stars scattered so generously by the celestial hand across the dark night skies. It was all so beautiful and so magical that she sighed with the pure pleasure of just viewing it. An arm slipped about her waist, and Wynne leaned back against the man who held her in his tender embrace.

"You are not surprised that I am here," Madoc said, and it was a statement more than a question.

"Nay," she answered him quietly, "for I knew that you were as eager for the caressing as I was, my lord."

He laughed low. "Do you always say exactly what you think, Wynne?"

"Aye, the truth is best, I have been taught."

"Are you not curious as to how I came into your chamber, my dearling?" He bent to kiss her shoulder.

"There are three doors within this chamber, my lord," she told him. "One leads into your reading chamber. One to the necessary. The other, I assume, leads to your sleeping chamber. This is the room of the prince's wife. Logic dictates there would be a way from your chamber to mine."

"You are quite observant," he noted, his fingers skillfully unlacing her sleeping robe, even as he planted little kisses along the column of her neck.

"What are you doing?" Her voice sounded high in her own ears, and her heart was beginning to flutter quite rapidly.

"Does not logic tell you that to caress you properly I must undo your robe?" he teased her.

"Can you not caress me through the cloth?" she asked him, catching at his hands.

"I could," he agreed, "but it would not be half as pleasurable for either of us, dearling." He gently pushed her hands away and concluded his task.

Wynne's sleeping robe fell open from belly to throat. Madoc gently slipped the gown over her shoulders and it slid quickly to the floor, leaving her quite naked. "Ohh," she cried, surprised, for she had not expected him to bare her. It was the first of several shocks, for as he drew her back against him, she realized that he too was without a garment. "Ohhhh!" she said a second time. And "Ohhhhhhh!" a third time, as his hands slipped beneath her small breasts to cup them gently within the palms of his hands.

"Don't be afraid, sweeting," he murmured, kissing her ear as he spoke and then nibbling on it gently.

"I'm not," she replied somewhat breathlessly, "I just did not expect
this.
Not so soon." She drew a deep breath and, releasing it, sighed luxuriously. "I like your hands, my lord."

He fondled her flesh with a light touch, his thumbs softly teasing at her nipples, which contracted themselves into taut little buds. She murmured her approval, unconsciously pressing herself back against him. Madoc drew a sudden sharp breath, for he found his betrothed wife far more delicious than he knew he should at this point in their relationship. Bending, he kissed the point where her neck and her shoulder met, savoring the sweet, clean fragrance of her.

Wynne's eyes had closed, seemingly of their own volition, at the onset of his caress. She relaxed, thoroughly enjoying his touch and the delightful feelings engendered by his skillful hands. Her arms lay limp by her sides; her head lay back against his shoulder. It was lovely, and she almost purred, catlike.

Madoc released one of her breasts, and his hands swirled downward, brushing in circles over the flesh of her torso and belly. Wynne gasped softly and stiffened beneath his touch now. "Nay, dearling," he crooned low, "I'll not hurt you."