A Memory of Love

rough with her? He had enjoyed it, the fiend! Well, at least she would not be bothered with his attentions any longer. He had promised her that, and she sensed that Edward de Beaulieu was a man of his word in spite of everything that had happened between them the night before.

Enit helped her lady dress. The two young women were silent. Together they walked to the church. Rhonwyn spoke the words of the mass quite automatically, startled to suddenly realize that her husband was by her side, ap Gruffydd was nowhere to be seen, for he only went to church when it was absolutely necessary. When the service had been concluded de Beaulieu took his wife's hand, and they walked back to the great hall where the morning meal was being laid out. Rhonwyn saw the prince standing by the fire, a large goblet in his hand.

'You have not forgotten?' she asked de Beaulieu anxiously.

'Nay,' he reassured her softly, 'but in exchange, Rhonwyn, I would have you call me by my name from now on, wife. Will you do that?'

'Aye, Edward, I will,' she responded low.

Llywelyn ap Gruffydd saw de Beaulieu smile down at his daughter, and the prince thought to himself, perhaps it will be a happy union. For her sake, I hope so. In the end I did my best for her, Vala. 'Good morrow,' his voice boomed.

'My lord,' de Beaulieu replied. 'You will be leaving us this morning, Prince Llywelyn, will you not?' It wasn't really a question.

'Perhaps, if I am satisfied you are well and truly wed to my daughter, Edward de Beaulieu. Show me the proof of this marriage's consummation. I would see my daughter's innocence bespattered across the sheet of your nuptial bed.'

Rhonwyn felt her cheeks burning at his words.

Her husband, however, turned to Enit and said, 'Fetch the bedding, lass.'

'Nay!' ap Gruffydd said. 'I will go with the girl and see for myself, my lord. You cannot object to it, I am certain.'

'Go then,' de Beaulieu answered him calmly, but was angered that Rhonwyn should be so openly embarrassed by her own father.

When ap Gruffydd returned to the hall he said, 'You did not spare her. That I could see. Very well, my daughter is now your wife. Other than paternal affection, I no longer have any claim upon her.'

'Paternal affection?' Rhonwyn burst out. 'You never had any affection for me, ap Gruffydd! How can you mouth such words with such piety? You ought to be ashamed of yourself!'

'Rhonwyn.' Her husband's voice warned her.

She was about to turn her scorn on him, but then she remembered. She was suddenly silent.

'Come, my lord, and let us eat,' Edward de Beaulieu said. 'I have a boon to ask of you.'

They sat at the high board, Rhonwyn between her father and her husband. The servants bustled about. Small round trenchers of bread, baked fresh earlier that morning, were set before them. Into them the servants spooned an oat stirabout with bits of dried apple. A square board with a small cheese upon it was placed in front of them along with a platter of cold, roasted rabbit. Their goblets were filled with watered wine. They ate for a time in silence, de Beaulieu amazed and amused to see his wife's prodigious appetite. He wondered if she always ate like that, but he doubted it, considering her slender form.

Finally, when they were finished and the servants were clearing away the remnants of the meal, the prince spoke.

'What is it you would have of me, son-in-law?'

'Rhonwyn wants her brother here at Haven. She misses him,' Edward de Beaulieu said. 'If it would make her happy, then I am willing.'

'So the English, having had my daughter, would now take my only son,' ap Gruffydd said.

'Not the English, prince, but your daughter, his sister,' de Beaulieu explained. 'There is no trick in this, my lord. Surely you can understand that never having been separated until a few months ago, she misses him.'

'Rhonwyn and her brother are my only offspring,' ap Gruffydd said. 'As she has had her value, so my son one day might prove useful to me. But if he is in English hands already, then his value is lost to me, son-in-law.'

'You will marry eventually, Prince,' de Beaulieu said. 'You must for your heredity's sake. The children of your legal marriage will be of far greater value to you than the two children who were born to you on the wrong side of the blanket. Let Rhonwyn have her brother's company again, my lord. I swear to you that I will protect the boy from any political chicanery and send him directly back to Cythraul should I find I am unable to do so.'

'I must think on it,' ap Gruffydd said slowly.

Now Rhonwyn was unable to contain herself any longer. 'Glynn means nothing to you!' she cried. 'I will be here, and you will go your way without another thought or care for my brother. I know you well, O prince of the Welsh. Glynn is your son, but he is not you or your brothers. He has no ambitions other than to create beauty. Let me have him, my lord. You know in your heart that you do not want him.'

'If I let you bring him into England, he could be a dagger turned against me one day, Rhonwyn,' ap Gruffydd said.

'And if you do not let me have him, what will happen to him? Would you destroy him because of some imagined fear, my lord?' she said. There were tears in her green eyes, and Edward de Beaulieu vowed then and there if ap Gruffydd would not willingly let his son go, he, himself, would ride into the Welshry and bring the lad back to his wife. 'Please, my lord prince,' Rhonwyn pleaded. 'Let me have my brother's company. You have said yourself that he is good for nothing more than the priesthood or poetry. Surely there is no threat to you in that.'

'It is not Glynn who worries me, Rhonwyn. It is the English,' ap Gruffydd said.

'I have said I would protect him,' de Beaulieu replied.

'You are the king's man, son-in-law, which is why he chose you to be my daughter's husband,' the prince said. 'You are reliable and can be trusted. This is why I have waited so long to marry. I never wanted to be torn between my duty and the woman I loved. That is where you will find yourself, Edward de Beaulieu, if I put my son into your keeping. As for your wife, you do not love Rhonwyn. You barely know her. Perhaps one day you will have an affection for her, perhaps not. Therefore I believe your stronger loyalty would be to your king, and not to your wife and her brother.'

'Please, Tad,' Rhonwyn said, slipping into the Welsh tongue.

'You have never before called me father,' he answered her in the same dialect.

Rhonwyn smiled wryly. 'It is unlikely I ever will again,' she said honestly. 'Let me have Glynn. I swear to you on my mother's honor that if I think the English mean to use him against you or Wales, I will either aid him to escape or kill him myself. You know I am worthy of your trust, Llywelyn ap Gruffydd. You know that as much as I love Glynn, that 1 will do my duty, whatever it may be. Please!'

'Say it again,' he replied.

She hesitated a moment, and then said, 'Please, Tad.'

'You have my pride, daughter, but you know when to yield even as your mam did. Had you been my son the English would have truly had something to fear, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn.' The prince turned now to his son-in-law and spoke Norman words to him. 'My daughter has convinced me that my son's interests are better served here at Haven Castle rather than at Cythraul. Since you have given me your word to protect him, I will send Glynn to you.'

'I know you have made Rhonwyn happy,' de Beaulieu said quietly. 'Thank you, my lord prince. You will find I keep my word, should it be necessary to protect your son from the crown. Since I do not intend to inform the king that the boy is with us, it is unlikely we should face any difficulties.'

'Henry is indecisive, but his cub is far fiercer than most I have known,' ap Gruffydd warned his son-in-law. 'He will be king sooner than later, and you must remain on his good side. He is the best and the worst of all his