A Memory of Love

her up without even knowing if she were really dead. Within two months of her disappearance you wrote and asked to have Kate for your wife. At least Rhonwyn was faithful in her heart to you, Edward. You were certainly not faithful in your heart to her. You hurried home, wed my sister, and got her with child as quickly as you could. Rhonwyn plotted to avoid giving the caliph a child and planned her escape so she might return to you. Do not be angry because you lost the opportunity to know what she is really like. I shall tell you, cousin. She is warm and passionate and loving to me… as my sister is to you.'

The spring finally came, and with it Rhonwyn's moods turned again. This time she was waspish and shrewish as her body swelled, and it became difficult to both sit and walk.

'I am no better than an old sow,' she grumbled.

'You are beautiful,' he assured her.

'A beautiful fat sow about to litter,' she groused.

'It will be all right, wife,' he tried to soothe her.

She glared at him pityingly. 'What on earth can a man know about having a baby inside of him, squirming and kicking? I can barely stand. 1 want to pee constantly. My navel has turned itself inside out, and you think it's going to be all right, Rafe? That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard any man say!'

He didn't know whether to laugh or scold her. Either one, he realized, would meet with the sharp edge of her tongue. He wisely remained silent.

And then on the first of June Rhonwyn went into labor, Maybel and Enit by her side. 'If you ever do this to me again,' his wife shrieked at him, 'I will kill you! Ahhhh! Ohhhh! God, I hate you!'

Rafe de Beaulieu fled the solar and wisely retreated outside, away from what was very obviously woman's work. From the open windows he could hear Rhonwyn cursing with her efforts. Finally as the sun was near to setting, and the day was prepared to melt into a long summer's twilight, Rafe de Beaulieu heard the cry of a child. The sound was strong and angry. He raced into the house and up the staircase, bursting into the solar to find Rhonwyn smiling and cradling an infant.

'You have a son, my lord,' she told him cheerfully. She held out the baby, still bloody with the birth, and his father took him into his hands. 'Welcome, Justin de Beaulieu,' Rafe said softly, and then looking at Rhonwyn, he said, 'Thank you, wife.'

'Give him to Enit,' she commanded, a maternal tone in her voice. 'Why Justin?'

'Today 'tis St. Justin's feast day, wife,' he told her.

'I like it,' Rhonwyn told him.' 'Tis a strong name, and he will not be like every Edward or Henry or John. I suppose we shall have to name the others with those names.'

'You said you didn't want any others,' he said, surprised.

'What? When did I ever say such a thing?' Rhonwyn said indignantly. 'Ot course we are going to have more children, Rafe. We must have at least two more sons, and a daughter or two for me. I promised a daughter to my aunt. The other must make a fine marriage. What foolishness! Who ever heard of just one child?' She laughed.

'Just take her at her word, my lord,' Maybel murmured softly. 'Women are strange in the last weeks of childbirth, but all is well once they have given birth to their babe.'

Katherine and Edward were called from Haven to stand as Justin's godparents. Father John came with them. Kate cooed over the baby and said he was quite the handsomest little fellow she had ever seen, excluding her own two boys.

'Have you sent word to your father?' she asked Rhonwyn.

'Aye,' Rhonwyn said shortly.

'And Brother Glynn?'

Rhonwyn smiled broadly. 'I know he is excited for us, Kate. I only wish he might have been here, but he is not allowed to travel until next year, even to see us. When the next child comes he shall be its godparent. Perhaps we shall go to Shrewsbury before next winter and visit him at the abbey. I know that will be permitted.'

'They say King Edward has come home. Soon we will have a coronation, although Edward and I shall not be invited. Only the great lords and those attempting to curry favor will go.'

'Let them,' Rhonwyn said. 'I prefer my simple life here at Ardley, as you prefer your life at Haven. We are through with the powerful. At least until it comes time to marry off our children.'

'I was hoping you would have a daughter for our little Ned,' Kate said. 'But he is only two, and there is plenty of time for you to have a little girl.'

'I would like a daughter,' Rhonwyn admitted.

'I am so glad you finally had a child,' Kate told her sister-in-law. 'I was so afraid that you were barren. Edward said you probably were because of your boyish activities. And you will be wed two years this Lammastide.'

'I prayed to Saint Anne,' Rhonwyn said piously, silently furious that her former husband, that betrayer, should have spoken of her so. If he weren't married to Rafe's sister, she thought, I would slice his ears off for that insult. Barren indeed!

In early September they took Justin to meet his uncle in Shrewsbury. Glynn was delighted by their visit, and the abbot freed him from his duties to spend time with his sister and her family. Justin was a fat and good-natured infant with his father's gray blue eyes and a fuzz of gold upon his mostly bald pate. He cooed, smiled, and drooled for his uncle, who was mightily impressed and said so as Justin grabbed Glynn's finger and attempted to put it in his mouth-except he could not quite find his mouth to match the finger with it.

They returned to Ardley, prepared to finish the harvest and ready the manor for the coming winter. In Shrewsbury they had learned that the king had been crowned at Westminster on August nineteenth. They planned to share their gossip with Edward and Kate and were surprised to find Edward awaiting them.

'Where the hell have you been?' the lord of Haven demanded of his cousin, ignoring Rhonwyn completely. 'I have been here for several hours. Your servants said you were due back today, but they did not know when you would come.'

'We have been in Shrewsbury to see Glynn and show him his nephew,' Rafe replied. 'What is the matter with you, Edward?'

'Katherine has been kidnapped!'

'What?' Both Rafe and Rhonwyn spoke at once.

'My wife has been kidnapped!' He turned his gaze upon Rhonwyn. 'And it is all your fault, damn you!'

'My fault?' Rhonwyn was astounded. 'Why should it be my fault, Edward? I bear you and Kate no ill will.'

'The Welsh have taken her,' he half shouted. 'They thought she was you!'

'Me? Why would the Welsh want to kidnap me?'

'Not you. Ap Gruffydd's daughter!' he roared.

'Jesu!' Rafe exploded.

'Of course!' Rhonwyn exclaimed.

'What is it?' both men asked her at once.

'It could be any of several reasons,' Rhonwyn explained. 'It is possible someone wishes to curry favor with King Edward and thinks to hold me hostage in exchange for my father's good behavior. Or it could be that someone simply wants to topple Prince Llywelyn and means to do it by threatening him with his daughter's life. I would not expect my father to bargain for my life, and he knows that I comprehend him well enough to understand that. Had I been kidnapped, I should have attempted escape, but failing that I would fling myself from a battlement before I would allow my father's fate to be directed by such a dishonorable act. Either way they have the wrong woman, and