A Moment in Time (34 page)

His tongue tormented her sensitive nipples, flicking swiftly back and forth as she threaded her fingers through his hair with growing urgency. His lips moved away from her now-swollen breasts and down her taut torso. Wynne shivered again, and her smooth skin was instantly embellished with a tapestry of tiny prickles. She squirmed and a small giggle escaped her.

"That tickles, Madoc!" she protested. She was beginning to feel hot with her desire for him.

"And we both know how ticklish you are," he responded, looking at her with a deceptively bland stare.

He reached for her, but Wynne was quicker and scrambled across their great bed. "Hah, my lord!" she mocked him. "You must be faster than that to catch me!"

He dove at her, and she squealed in sham terror as he grabbed out to imprison her. Together they rolled about their marriage bed like two young puppies, his fingers tickling her and her fingers tickling him. Finally weak with laughter, Madoc and Wynne collapsed side by side, wheezing and gasping for breath. When at last she felt the strength returning into her limbs, Wynne took the initiative, surprising Madoc by straddling him. Giving him a seductive smile, she tightened her thighs about his torso. Reaching up, she began to fondle her breasts, her tongue running swiftly over her lips. She looked down, sloe-eyed, into his face.

"Do you want me as much as I want you?" she demanded.

"Aye," he drawled softly and slowly, a single finger reaching up to trail down the valley between her breasts, down her belly, to worm its way between her nether lips. For a moment his finger rested atop her little love jewel, which he had found with unerring aim. Then he began to rub it with gentle insistence. "I want you very, very much, my beautiful bride."

A shudder ran through Wynne as he brought her to her first pleasure, and weakness coursed through her veins like hot wine. She wanted so to control the situation, she thought, but she had not yet learned how. All she desired right now was to have him take her, and she sighed gustily.

He smiled up at her and then, with deliberately languid movements, he began to smooth the palms of his hands up her body from her belly to her breasts. His hands moved in gentle little circles, caressing her lightly, stroking the fires of her desire. "You are so fair," he told her, and he fondled her breasts, squeezing them delicately, as with half-closed eyes she began to make whimpering noises in the back of her throat; her hips moving against him in jerking little motions.

"I want—" she began, and he placed warning fingers over her lips.

"Not yet, dearling," he said low.

"I want you!"
she insisted and, leaning forward, kissed him passionately.

"I want you," he responded, and rolled her over onto her back, "but it is too soon, Wynne. Let us enjoy loving one another before the final culmination."

Wynne turned onto her side and, reaching out, she stroked him, reveling in the sensation of his body beneath her hand. He was a tall man, but unlike Rhys, Madoc was not as large-boned. Neither could he be called delicate, she thought. There was strength in him that belied his medium-boned frame. And his skin. It was so soft for a man. Especially a man whose appearance was that of an ancient Celtic warrior. She could feel the muscles in his shoulder and his arm, and, unable to help herself, she leaned over and began to lick his skin, pushing him onto his back. He groaned with pleasure as her little pointed tongue moved up his torso from his belly and encircled the nipples on his chest. There was a faintly salty taste to his skin that was not unpleasing.

Her long dark hair spread out over her shoulders and back and buttocks like a black silk mantle. He stroked her head, his whole body aquiver with her lovemaking. She nipped playfully at his shoulder and his throat; her little love bites followed almost immediately by a quick kiss and then the warm sweep of her tongue. Wynne's head began to move lower again on his torso, her tongue swirling over his sensitive skin, and he groaned again.

His manhood loomed ahead of her, stiff and straight. Wynne's fingers closed about it, feeling the life pulsing and coursing through the throbbing flesh. He had loved her with his tongue. Dare she do the same to him? Boldly she leaned forward and touched the tip of his manhood with the point of her tongue. Madoc gasped sharply. Her tongue encircled the ruby head of it with a warm and enticing motion. Losing her grip on him, she barely supported his lance within her hand as, moving closer to him, she licked the length of him with slow even strokes. He shuddered and then his body jerked violently with surprise as Wynne took him in her mouth and began to draw upon him until he feared his juices would burst forth.

Reaching down with his hand, he locked his fingers in her hair and gently pulled her away. "Dearling," he managed to gasp, "you will unman me and waste my seed."

Pulling away from him, she drew herself level with him and said softly, "When you taste of me, it pleasures me greatly. Do you not feel the same pleasure when I taste of you?" Her face was above his, and her hair fell like a waterfall to one side of her.

He reached up and caressed her cheek. "Wynne, my sweet wife, when your mouth and your tongue love in so intimate a manner, I die a sweet death; but my love, I also long to possess you more fully than you could ever imagine." He kissed her mouth swiftly and began to play with one of her pretty breasts which hung temptingly near.

"Do you think that only men feel such passion, my lord?" she demanded. "Women feel it too." A tiny dart of raw longing raced through her as he pinched her nipple, and then, raising his head just a bit, tongued the pain away.

In answer, he gently rolled her onto her back once more and swung over her. His fingers trailed teasingly over the tender inner flesh of her thighs. His deep blue eyes never left her mysterious green ones as he slowly pushed himself into her and then stopped. "I have never before desired a woman as I desire you," he said.

"Do not tell me of your other women," she teased him. "Tell me how much you love me, Madoc, my husband," and she wrapped her arms about his neck. He was so big inside her, she thought. He filled her full, and she almost rejoiced aloud as she felt him throbbing with life and love. Her head began to swim as pleasure engulfed her.

"Through all time and space have I loved you," he declared. "From a time that neither of us can remember until this moment in time, have I loved you, Wynne. I will never cease to love you, though we live, and die, and are born again in other times and places. You are my other half, dearling. There can be no real life for me without you."

"Oh, Madoc," she whispered, and her eyes were wet with her tears, "am I worthy of such a love?"

"Always, dearling!" he told her passionately, and then he began to move upon her.

"I will always love you," she promised him softly as she gave herself up to the sweetness of the moment, letting it wash over her like water washing over a rock. Letting the moment take her until she soared like a lark, and the pleasure captured her in its grasp and kept coming, and coming, and coming until she died a sweet death, only to be reborn again new and eager.

And afterward they lay together in a loving embrace, stroking each other comfortingly and sharing tender kisses until they fell into a period of blissful slumber; awakening several hours later refreshed and renewed and ready to share their passion once more. Yet when the dawn broke, Madoc and Wynne arose happily to dress themselves and, like any good host and hostess, to see their guests off. If they shared secret looks and smiles in the completion of their duties, the departing wedding guests only found it charming. All but Brys, the bishop of Cai, who hid his hatred behind his charming facade and gaily departed for his own home as if he had been the most welcome of all the wedding guests.

"We will not have to see
him
again," Madoc said grimly as he watched his half brother and his small cortege make their way down the steep path from Raven's Rock Castle.

"It is not good that brothers are such enemies," Wynne answered. "His father molded him, but could we not change him, my love? I realize his attempted crime against Nesta was vicious, but he was but a boy. You saved Nesta. There was no serious harm done. Could we not at least try to mend this breach between you?"

"You are so innocent and so good," Madoc said. "You do not understand, Wynne. There can be no friendship between myself and Brys in this life."

"He is beyond redemption, Wynne," Nesta, who with her husband would be remaining at Raven's Rock for several days, said. "We have tried, both Madoc and I, to make our peace with Brys, to bring him back into the family fold. He wallows in his wickedness and cannot be weaned from it now, I fear."

"Perhaps you are both too close to the matter," Wynne said. "There is such bad blood between you, I think, that only someone like me, someone uninvolved in the past, can help to bring you all together once more. It is not good for families to grow apart. Even though I find my sisters, Caitlin and Dilys, aggravating beyond all, I do not cut them off from the family."

"I can deny you nothing, dearling," Madoc told her, "but we have just been wed and I am of a mind for feasting, and revelry, and frolic, not for discussing my brother. In time, however, I promise you that we will resolve the situation."

Wynne smiled up happily at her husband and, taking his hand, turned to go back into the castle, innocent of the meaningful look that passed between Madoc and Nesta, who were both of one mind in the matter of Brys of Cai. He was beyond the pale and would ever be.

Chapter 10

Although Dewi returned to Gwernach with father Drew several days following the wedding, Enid and Mair had consented to remain for the summer months. Nesta and Rhys would also remain for a few weeks. Word came from Coed and Llyn that Caitlin and Dilys had been delivered of sons in the same hour of the same day. Both were filled to overflowing with maternal pride.

Enid laughed. "Though Caitlin was not due to have her child until next month, she would not suffer Dilys to gain a march on her. How typical of my granddaughter, but at least the children are healthy."

To celebrate her wedding, Wynne had released Einion from his slavery. "You are free to remain in my service or return to your own homeland," she told him.

"I'll stay," he said shortly.

Wynne smiled mischievously. "I think you should have a wife, my old friend. A wife settles a man."

"Perhaps," Einion agreed, smiling slightly.

"Would my maidservant, Megan, suit you?" Wynne asked sweetly.

"If she's willing, I'm willing," Einion replied shortly.

"Marry you?" Megan exclaimed when brought into her mistress's presence. She glared balefully at Einion. "So you are willing if I'm willing, are you? What makes you think I want to marry a great, ungainly, gimp-legged oaf like you?"

"Because you love me," Einion said blandly.

"Love you?" Megan's voice was slightly higher than it had been a moment ago, and her cheeks were flushed scarlet.

"Aye, you love me," Einion repeated, "and besides, who else would have a freckled-nosed termagant like you to wife? You've frightened all the lads for five miles hereabouts, Meggie, my lass. I'm all that's left to you. It's me or spinsterhood," he finished, grinning wickedly.

"And?"
she demanded, glaring at him furiously, her hands on her hips.

"And what?" He pretended to be puzzled.

"And?"
she answered, equally firm and insistent.

"And I love you," he said finally, with a shrug.

"Well," Megan allowed, "I suppose I could get used to carrot-topped children."

Wynne burst out laughing. "You are the oddest pair of lovers I have ever known," she said, "but may I assume 'tis settled between you? You may wed whenever you please."

"Tomorrow," Einion replied.

"I can't be ready by tomorrow," Megan raged at him.

"You can," he countered. "Lasses are always ready to wed at a moment's notice, or so I am told."

"Tomorrow will be perfect," Wynne said, stemming the tide of protest she saw rising to Megan's lips. "I have a lovely tunic dress that I seem to have outgrown, and 'twill fit you with just the tiniest bit of alteration."

So Megan was wed the following day to Einion, with their lord and lady looking on happily.

"He's so perfect for her," Nesta said afterward. "He's every bit as strong-willed as she is, and her equal in all ways."

"I am so happy!" Wynne said, twirling about the hall dreamily. "I want everyone about me to be happy too. Einion deserved his freedom and would not have asked Megan to marry had he not been given it. She was absolutely beginning to pine for him. I had to do something." She pulled up her skirts and danced a few steps. "Is not love grand, sister?"

Nesta and Rhys took their leave and returned home to St. Bride's the following week.

"You will come to us in December, won't you?" Nesta begged. "I want you there when I have my baby."

"I will try," Wynne promised her, "but I may not be fit to travel myself at that point."

Nesta's eyes widened. "Are you . . . ?" she began.

"Not yet," Wynne said, "but I pray daily for a child. I would give Madoc a son as quickly as possible."

Nesta smiled at her sister-in-law. "I know just how you feel," she admitted, "but I shall still hope that you can come."

"If I cannot, send for my grandmother. She is good at birthings and will be glad to come to be with you," Wynne replied.

"Would you, my lady Enid?" Nesta asked shyly.

"Of course, my child," Enid answered. "I shall enjoy a nice visit to St. Bride's, especially at the Christ's Mass feast, and I shall bring Dewi and Mair with me."

The summer passed. With the coming of the autumn, Enid and Mair returned home to Gwernach. They went happy in the knowledge that Wynne was to bear a child to her husband in the spring. While they had been with her, her grandmother and her sister had kept Wynne's mind from the breach between Madoc and Brys of Cai. Now, with nothing more than her household to oversee, Wynne began to think about how she might reunite the brothers in friendship. It would not be an easy task, for Madoc refused to even discuss the matter with her, although she had attempted to broach it with him several times.

"My brother chose to distance himself from his sister and me years ago," Madoc tried to explain to Wynne. "His actions toward us since the day he left Raven's Rock, nay, since even before that, have been consistently hostile."

"He attempted a dreadful act as a boy, I will agree with you and Nesta on that matter, but surely after all these years you can forgive him," Wynne said. "I cannot believe anyone is quite as wicked as you both insist Brys is. Surely there is some good in him."

"Wynne, my dearest wife," Madoc said patiently to her, "I know it is hard for you to believe that my brother is beyond decency. You have been so sheltered all your life, but even the spiritual maturity you possess cannot have possibly prepared you for someone like Brys. He is simply evil incarnate, and he revels in wickedness. There is absolutely no remorse in him, dearling. This is no sibling rivalry, Wynne. This is a battle between good and evil. Between the darkness and the light. You are not yet prepared to fight such a battle. I am."

For Madoc the matter was settled, but Wynne was not satisfied. The very early months of her pregnancy past, she was feeling full of new vigor. She wanted to believe everything that her husband said. After all, was not Madoc the wisest of men? Yet she could not quite believe Madoc in the matter of his brother. The thought niggled at the corners of her brain that Brys must surely have some redeeming qualities to him. If she could talk with him, understand his feelings about the estrangement between himself and his family. Of course, she would not be able to do it at Raven's Rock. She would have to go to Cai.

It would not be a long journey. The matter of a few hours only. She was able to ride still, and she would take Megan with her.
No.
Megan could not come. If she told Megan, Megan would tell Einion, and he would tell Madoc. They would stop her. The more Wynne thought about it, the surer she became that Madoc was wrong in this one particular matter. Brys could not be as bad as her husband and Nesta painted him. He had done a terrible thing as a boy, but he should not be shunned by his family for the rest of his life for a single sin. She smiled to herself. She would reunite the siblings, and her children would grow up surrounded by warm and loving relatives.

But when?
When could she depart Raven's Rock undetected? She did not want anyone guessing her intent and chasing after her; spoiling her chances to make peace between the brothers. Wynne frowned.
When?
It had to be soon. Before the winter set in and she was unable to ride her horse. She almost shouted with delight when Madoc told her several days later that he must go to the valley pasturelands below to check on their herds.

"The shepherds report that some of the sheep are disappearing," he told Wynne.

"Is it a wolf?" she asked him nervously.

"Nay, I think not, for no remains or blood have been found. My neighbors to the north are not the most honest people. I think it possible they have been stealing my sheep. If this is so, I must put a stop to it immediately. Weakness is a character flaw too easily taken advantage of, and I would not like to be thought weak."

"How long will you be gone, my love?" Wynne said sweetly.

"Three days, four at the most, dearling," he answered, and kissed her brow tenderly. "I dislike being away from you, Wynne, but there is no help for it, and you will be quite safe at Raven's Rock." He reached out and placed a hand over her belly. "Have you felt a quickening yet?"

"Not yet," she told him, smiling. "Perhaps in a few weeks."

"A child," he said. "Our child. What would you call him?"

"Anwyl," Wynne said softly, "and Angharad if
he
is a
she."

Madoc chuckled. "I am not so pompous a fool to believe that my son could not be my daughter. It matters not. A healthy child is all I desire. A healthy child and a beautiful wife." Then his lips touched hers, and Wynne wound her arms about his neck, sighing with pure and perfect contentment.

On the following morning she bid her husband a fond farewell, but as the day was wet and overcast, Wynne decided to wait until the morrow before setting out for Castle Cai. When the following day dawned sunny, she knew she had been wise in postponing her trip. She had dismissed Megan the prior evening, telling her maidservant, who was also pregnant with Einion's child and extremely sick in the mornings, not to come to her until the noon hour. Megan gratefully thanked her mistress.

Wynne dressed carefully, sorry that her journey would necessitate a plainer garb than she would have otherwise chosen to wear. She did so want to make a good impression on Brys, that she might gain his sympathetic ear. She had sensed from their earlier meeting that he was as stubborn as Madoc. Still, Brys would certainly be far more interested in what she had to say than what she was wearing. Their brief bout of verbal sparring at her wedding had shown her that he was a very intelligent man. The dark green tunic dress she chose would blend in nicely with the woodlands she must traverse. She chose a sheer white veil to cover her head, affixing it with a simple gold band which was studded with dark green agate.

She chose the time of her departure well, going to the stable quite early, when the sun was just barely up. The grooms were still sleepy and, although one, older than the others, thought to remark that the master would not want her to ride alone, Wynne easily overcame their concern.

"I will not go far," she said with a smile. "Just to the bottom of the castle hill and perhaps across the bridge. It's far too lovely a day to be penned inside, and winter will be upon us before we know it. Besides," and she patted her belly with another smile at them, "soon I shall not be able to ride."

The stablemen chuckled, and then one of them helped her to mount her little mare. "Remember, my lady Wynne, no farther than the bridge," he cautioned with agap-toothed grin.

Wynne turned her horse's head and rode serenely out of the courtyard, moving slowly down the castle hill. She knew the way to Cai, for the route was deceptively simple, although she had never before traveled that path. Nesta had told her about it during one of their conversations those long weeks back when she and Rhys were visiting at Raven's Rock. At the bottom of the castle hill the river ran swift, and, glancing up, Wynne looked to see if she was being observed, but to her relief she was not.

She trotted her mare across the stone bridge spanning the river. On the far side she turned right onto a narrow trail that moved around the base of the mountain and in the opposite direction from whence she had come to Raven's Rock from Gwernach over a year ago. Castle Cai was located around the other side of the mountain, Nesta had told her. It sat upon a promontory at the base of that mountain that jutted out over another valley. At least she would not have to climb her horse up another steep incline, Wynne thought, relieved.

The forest was thick with trees, and in some places the sun had a difficult time penetrating through the greenery. There were times that the trail she followed seemed to disappear, and yet Wynne felt no fear of her surroundings. High in the branches of a beech tree a bird sang, trilling notes of such clarity that it seemed almost unreal. When she came to a small stream that dashed over a bed of dark rocks, Wynne stopped her horse to rest and, dismounting, allowed her beast to drink. Tying the animal to a tree, she sat upon a bed of thick, soft moss and, taking a small flacon of wine from her saddlebag along with some bread and cheese, Wynne sat down to eat. She had been clever enough to obtain her picnic the previous evening after her supper. The servants thought she desired additional food to nibble on in her own quarters because of her condition.

She smiled to herself. Everyone at Raven's Rock was so good to her. Although she had always considered herself happy and content at Gwernach, she had never envisioned how absolutely blissful her life with Madoc would be. And it would all be better once she solved the estrangement between Madoc and Brys. She chewed her bread, noting that the cheese was her family's own. In the trees around her the birds sang, and several of them, curious, hovered on nearby branches. With a small chuckle Wynne crumbled the remainder of her bread and cheese and scattered it over the mossy ground for them. Arising, she relieved herself behind a thick stand of bushes. Then finding a nearby rock to use as a mounting block, she remounted her horse and, crossing the stream, continued on her way.