by Speer, Flora
“I love you,” she whispered.
“And I love you,” he said, pledging himself for all time, “I love you with all my heart and soul.”
“I have been so lonely without you.”
“But no more, Meredith. Not while I’m alive.”
Later, remembering he was hungry, Guy crept out of bed to sit by the fireplace and eat the tray of food Joan had set on a table in front of the fire. He had thought Meredith was asleep, but just as he settled into the large carved chair she joined him, wrapped in an indigo blue robe that made her red curls glow. She pulled up a stool and sat beside him, sipping from his cup when he offered her wine.
“I must tell you something important,” she said, “but I don’t know how to do it.”
He saw she was blushing. She would have lowered her head, but he caught her chin and raised her face. She looked straight into his eyes.
“What is it, Meredith?”
“I think I should go away. That might be the best thing. Perhaps there is a convent somewhere that would take me. I’m happy for myself, please believe that, but I don’t want to cause you any problems. I’ll do whatever you decide.”
“This isn’t about your healing again, is it? Then what in heaven’s name are you talking about? Why should you go away?”
“I am with child.”
“What?”
“Can’t you tell? My body is much changed.”
“My child,” he said in wonder.
“Well, of course it’s yours. How could you think otherwise?” she tried to stand up, apparently annoyed by his response, but he caught her, pulling her onto his lap and nearly upsetting the tray of food.
“I have no doubt at all about the child’s father,” he said, holding her close when she would have flown out of his grasp. “Woman, will you sit still and listen to me? I will not let you leave Afoncaer, I have told you that before.”
“You won’t?” There were tears in her silver eyes. “Guy, will you acknowledge the child? My father never would accept me, and it made my childhood so unhappy. The other children taunted me so. I don’t want that for my baby.”
“Our babe. Yours and mine. I’ll do more than accept it. I’ll marry its mother.”
She buried her face in his shoulder for a moment. Then, “I thank you, my lord, for your offer, but I can’t let you do that. The Lord of Afoncaer must marry a great heiress, who will bring him lands and at least one title for dowry. I have nothing.”
“There you are wrong, my love. My dear love. You will bring me everything worth having in this world. And you are an heiress. Not a great one, but that makes no difference to me.” And he told her what King Henry had done.
“Kelsey is to be mine?” Meredith breathed.
“Not yours. Mine, through you. And only if you marry me. Would you defy the king and refuse me those lands, Meredith?”
“Would you settle Kelsey on our son, for his own holding, when he is old enough?”
“Are you so sure this is a son?” he asked, placing one hand on her softly rounded belly.
“If this one is not,” she said with great seriousness, “the next one will be.”
He burst into laughter, hugging her again, wondering at the joy she brought him. How good it was to know she would never leave him. He was a little surprised when she pulled away.
“Before I agree to marry you, Guy, I must make one condition.”
“I thought you had already agreed to marry me. And you may not make conditions, my love. This is a king’s command. We will marry.”
There was a dangerous sparkle in her eyes as she answered that. “This is Wales, my lord, and the king’s writ does not run everywhere. You will agree to my condition or I will not marry you.”
He sat dumbfounded while she kissed him lightly to take away the sting of her words and then went on.
“I want a place,” she said, “where I can tend the sick who come to me. Build me a house in the town, Guy, so I may work there.”
“Not in the town.” When she began to protest, he put two fingers against her lips to silence her while he finished. “Within the castle walls, my sweet, where you will be under my complete protection. No one, not even a priest as narrow-minded as Father Herbert was, can disapprove of the lady of the castle caring for her husband’s villeins so long as she is within his walls. And if others not belonging to my lands come also, well, that is only Christian charity, is it not? It will also be safer if you are within the inner wall, should we ever be besieged.”
“I agree.” She nodded without hesitation. “I’ll need to make an herb garden, Guy. I spoke to one of the priests from Llangwilym Abbey, who was here recently to say Mass, and he has promised me some plants from the abbey gardens. I’ll need a storage room, too, and perhaps a pallet or two for my patients who must stay overnight.”
“Good Lord, woman.” He began to laugh again. “You said only one condition. Is there no end to your demands?”
“At the moment,” she replied, her hands on him bringing sweet fire to all his senses, “there is only one other request I can think of, my love.”
The feast two days later, originally intended for Guy’s homecoming celebration, was turned into a wedding banquet. Geoffrey and Thomas rode to Llangwilym to bring back the same priest who had offered to help Meredith with her herb garden, to perform the marriage ceremony.
When Lord Guy fitz Lionel, second Baron of Afoncaer, resplendent in azure blue tunic banded in gold, led forth his new baroness from the chapel, there was a gasp of admiration, and then cheers and applause from those crowded into the bailey. From the depths of a clothes chest Joan had produced a gown of ivory silk and had worked all night altering it to fit Meredith. The simple style, with round neck and long loose sleeves edged in gold, worn over a pale blue linen underdress with tight sleeves, suited Meredith perfectly. Her hair curled loosely over her shoulders. She had gone to her wedding wearing only a sheer silk veil on her head, there being no flowers available in mid-winter to make a wreath for her, but after the ceremony Guy set over the veil a delicately ornamented gold circlet, symbol of her new rank. After today, she would bind her hair up in the coif of a married woman, but she no longer minded keeping it hidden, for at night, alone with the person who mattered most to her in all the world, she would loosen it and let it flow free for his delight.
The feasting was over at last and the castle lay quiet beneath a half-full moon. Guy stood by the newly glazed double window in the lord’s chamber, looking out over Afoncaer. When Meredith came to him he put an arm about her and drew her against his side so she could see it, too.
“This is more truly my home,” Guy said, “than any other place I have ever known.”
“And my home, too, so long as you are here.”
“We will finish building it together.” Guy’s lips were on her sweet-scented hair. “We’ll make it strong and safe for our sons to inherit.” He heard a chuckle from the level of his chest, where her face was pressed against his heart.
“All of them,” Meredith said, laughing.
Reynaud
I have remained at Afoncaer for these two years since my lord Guy and his beloved Meredith were wed, overseeing the reconstruction of the castle until the last stone was in place and the last artist had finished painting the walls of my lady’s solar, and the new great hall had been filled many times with guests for the baron’s feasts. I witnessed the baptism of their first child, a girl with blue eyes like her father’s and soft copper-gold curls. I have seen Meredith’s happiness in her work and her marriage, and I regret nothing I have done to bring it about.
One dark night, Lord Guy, my friend now after we had endured so much together, told me the full story of Thomas’s fathering, and at my request gave me permission to write it down, because this information might one day affect the inheritance of his or Thomas’s property. We agreed the volume should be sealed. So it has been and so it will remain until need for it arises. I hope that will never happen. Neither Lord Gu
y nor I have ever mentioned it again.
Now I must leave Wales. My king has other uses for my talents, and my first duty is to him. Before going I will commit this library, which I have collected in my chamber and which contains Rhys ap Daffydd’s ancient book as well as my records of the castle, to Lady Meredith’s care, begging her not to open the histories but rather to hold them in trust for her children and grandchildren. I know she will promise, and keep her promise. She was ever honest and true, Meredith, my friend, and my dear, dear lady.
Author’s Note
Afoncaer, Tÿnant, and the Welsh border lands surrounding them, as well as Kelsey in Mercia and Llangwilym Abbey in Wales, are entirely imaginary places. Also fictional are all the characters mentioned in this story, except for the kings of England, Queen Matilda, the earls of Chester, Shrewsbury, and Hereford, Ralph Flambard, and Duke Robert of Normandy.
Although Norman incursions into Wales began shortly after William the Conqueror seized England for himself in 1066, and were continued by his son William Rufus, the Welsh were tenacious in defense of their land, and it was not until the reign of Edward I that the conquest was completed in 1283.
At the time when this story takes place, the date of the new year was not yet firmly fixed. It tended to wander, from September 1 to September 24, to Christmas Day, or to March 25 (the Feast of the Annunciation), or even to January 1, depending upon the chronicler and his system of reckoning, and whether ecclesiastical or civil events were being recorded. In the interest of simplicity, I have used modern dates throughout, and have begun each new year on January first.
The herbal remedies concocted and used by Rhys, Branwen, and Meredith reflect medieval knowledge and use of these plants as described in historical accounts and in herbal treatises of that period.
About The Author:
Flora Speer is the author of twenty-two full-length novels and two novellas.
She writes historical, futuristic and time-travel romances. Born in southern New Jersey, she now lives in Connecticut. Among her favorite activities are doing the research for the next book, gardening (especially herbs and flowers used in medieval gardens) and amateur astronomy. She believes in space travel and wishes the U.S. would restart its space program.
Flora can be reached at [email protected] and at www.floraspeer.com
Other Books By This Author (all on Smashwords)
Historical
By Honor Bound
Much Ado About Love
The Viking Passion
For Love And Honor
Rose Red
Castle Of Dreams
Castle Of The Heart
Two Turtledoves (Christmas novella)
Time-Travel
Twelfth Night (Christmas novella)
Christmas Carol
A Time to Love Again
A Love Beyond Time
Timestruck
Love Just In Time
Love Once And Forever*
Paranormal
Heart’s Magic
The Magician’s Lover
A Passionate Magic
Love Once And Forever*
Futuristic
Venus Rising
Destiny’s Lovers
No Other Love
Lady Lure