By morning Simon was convinced that the only certain method was to lay violent hands on Rhiannon, carry her away into the woods, and try to excuse both offenses at once. It was, however, easier to make this decision than to carry it out, he feared. How was he going to find her in a place where he could seize her without interference? If she screamed and resisted, doubtless every man in Aber would pursue them. Nonetheless, after breaking his fast and idling about the hall, hoping Rhiannon would come in, Simon began to make plans to forward this purpose. He told his grooms to saddle Ymlladd and stood watching their struggles with the evil-tempered gray stallion, while trying to formulate a message that would bring Rhiannon out into the bailey. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he did not notice the prize he so ardently desired approaching him. In fact, he reached automatically for the horse’s bridle when it was led toward him.
From Rhiannon’s viewpoint, Simon seemed first to be looking right through her, as if she did not exist, and then to be intending to ride quickly away. Ordinarily she would have been very angry, but her sense of being at fault, together with the fear that he had been so hurt he was leaving for good, drove her to call his name and run forward. A number of heads turned in the direction of the sound. One of them was Mallt’s, another was Madog’s. He had followed Simon out of the hall, suspicious of the fact that de Vipont seemed to be avoiding his usual cronies. Now Madog’s suspicions were confirmed.
Simon’s hand jerked on Ymlladd’s bridle, and the horse reared. Knowing that swift movement or loud sounds could set the battle-trained animal into a frenzy, Simon vaulted into the saddle and curbed the horse fiercely. Rhiannon realized at once what she had done and stopped abruptly. She understood animals, and it was also too late to do anything about Simon. If he did not wish to speak to her, he would ride away; there was no use in running after him. Since her dignity would be rather damaged if he rode away, Rhiannon turned, as if she were about to return to the hall.
Simon brought his horse under control just in time to see Rhiannon’s move. He spurred the beast forward, bent from the saddle, and pulled her up in front of him. Madog sprang forward, but the cry of alarm on his lips changed to a low curse as he saw Rhiannon turn toward her abductor, laughing, and throw her arms around his neck.
Although he was delighted with this reaction, Simon did not curb the speed of his destrier, but merely directed him toward the gate. They galloped through and away, then turned north where, after a quarter of a mile of forested land, a series of coves broke the headlands fronting the ocean.
“You must listen, Rhiannon,” Simon began.
Simultaneously, Rhiannon said, “Simon, try to understand—”
Laughter followed naturally and the destrier stumbled, which was not surprising at the pace he was going with the weight so oddly distributed. Relieved of his fear that Rhiannon was unwilling to talk to him, Simon gave his attention to his horse. Equally reassured, Rhiannon relaxed and allowed Simon to go where he wanted while he slowed the animal to a trot and then to a walk. At last she asked curiously where Simon was taking her.
“I have not the faintest idea,” he responded cheerfully. “Anywhere, so long as we are not likely to be interrupted.” He paused and then added seriously, “We really must come to an understanding. I do not know how much longer I will be permitted to stay. You know I am only serving as a messenger, Rhiannon. My coming and going are not at my own discretion.”
“Then you came to my father as an emissary, not of your own will?” she asked.
Simon tried to judge her expression, but it was difficult. Even with her head turned as much as possible toward him he was so close that he saw her from a strange angle. Nor could he trust himself to interpret her voice. It sounded good-humored and curious, but Rhiannon had a tendency to set traps for unwary tongues and Simon was determined not to fall in.
“Do you know where we can be private and comfortable?” That was a safe question, and it saved him from the need for answering her immediately. “I am not very familiar with Aber.”
Rhiannon looked up through the trees at the sun. “That way.” She pointed. “We will come out above the water, and we can find a cove. If it gets hot enough, we can swim. Oh, can you swim, Simon?”
“Of course I can. Roselynde lies on the narrow sea.” He touched Ymlladd with his spur to pick up the pace, not because he wished to arrive sooner, but because he wanted to forestall conversation under what he considered adverse conditions. In fact, it was extremely pleasant to hold Rhiannon clutched against him. He had never had so prolonged a contact with her before and found it so stimulating that the real purpose of this ride began to become obscured. By the time they had reached the shore and picked their way down along a stream that had cut a path to the narrow, rocky beach, Simon was beginning to reconsider Rhiannon’s offer and to wonder whether it could make any difference if they married before or after they became lovers.
Still in the grip of this emotion, Simon slid from his horse, carrying Rhiannon with him. It was not completely safe to leave Ymlladd loose while he was saddled and bridled. An empty saddle and a loose rein were battle signals to the war-trained stallion that could set him to attack anyone who moved except Simon, whose scent he knew. That would put Rhiannon in danger if she were alone, but Simon had no intention of releasing her. As long as they were locked together, the horse would not attack. In fact, Ymlladd gave no signs of restlessness or bad temper when Simon released him. Instead, he wandered a few steps away to suck water from the stream and then lip at leaves on the bushes that grew on the bank. Had Simon been less preoccupied with his own feelings, he would have noted this behavior as being very strange. As it was, he merely lowered his head and fastened his mouth to Rhiannon’s.
She had been about to say something, but the feel of Simon’s lips put it right out of her head. This was not the first time he had kissed her; there had been formal exchanges in greeting and parting, but this was very different. There was a physical urgency in the force of his kiss and in the quivering intensity of his arms around her, although he was not holding her tight. Rhiannon was in no condition at the moment to analyze anything, but later she understood just how skillful Simon’s “assault” on her was. To other women, a crushing grip would signify passion, but Simon knew it would mean restraint and compulsion to her. So he held her close enough that their bodies touched and she could feel his tense eagerness, but loosely enough that she could break away if she chose.
Thus, it was Rhiannon who pressed closer, one arm around Simon’s neck and the other around his hard-muscled back. This encouragement and the deep, sighing breath she took led Simon to experiment further. His left arm still encircled her shoulders, but his right hand began rhythmically to stroke her back, dropping lower and then lower until he was caressing her buttocks—caressing and pulling her closer. Simon knew what Rhiannon must feel each time he drew her tightly against him. Since he was dressed for the heat of August, only in a silk tunic and thin woolen chausses, his engorged manhood must be clearly apparent to her.
It was, and her perception of his violent desire heightened her own. Behind her dammed lips, Rhiannon uttered soft, excited cries while she pressed forward on her own. However, like his father, Simon was an unusually tall man. Simple forward pressure merely pushed Simon’s shaft into her abdomen, and that excited her further without giving her the smallest relief.
Rhiannon had always been a creature who responded to physical sensations. She was extremely sensitive to all such stimuli—the warmth of the sun, the feel of wet grass beneath her bare feet, the kiss of the wind, and the damp caress of the rain. She knew, also, all the facts concerning sexual union. However, the intimate connection between the senses and the act had only been known to her through assumption—by the reminiscent pleasure in her mother’s eyes and by deduction from what others had said. Her own experience was limited to the restless uneasiness she had felt from the time she sent Simon away in the spring.
Now her body knew. Sensation flowe
d over and through her, spreading from wherever Simon had intimate contact with her—from her lips, from the skin and muscle where his hands held and stroked her body, most poignantly from the mute messenger of his own desire. Passion warmed, then burned, hot and urgent, centering in her own loins, which demanded further sensation that was denied by her position.
Instinctively Rhiannon pushed up as well as forward, wrapping both arms around Simon’s neck and rising on her toes in her attempt to satisfy her need. Failing, she sank back momentarily to a less strained position, but the urge was irresistible and she pushed upward again. Simon groaned softly, and that excited Rhiannon even further. She let herself drop again, preparing for an even more strenuous effort.
Although Simon was also extremely excited, there was little new in the physical sensations for him. His thinking processes were somewhat blurred but were by no means extinguished. He had, after all, considerable experience keeping his wits about him while making love. Rhiannon’s innocent abandon was making this more difficult than usual by the moment, but the more difficult it became to think and the more violent his desire, the more determined Simon became that this was the woman he wanted as a life companion. Through the pulsing pleasure that racked him with every movement Rhiannon made, one conviction held firm. Somehow he had to convince Rhiannon to marry him.
Equally urgent was the satisfaction of his desire. Yet, if he satisfied himself by coupling with Rhiannon, he would be confirming a liaison on her terms—and he was not at all sure what those terms were. He could not take the chance that he would truly be playing bull to her heifer, that she would feel free to go after another bull any time she wished. There was, however, an easy solution to this problem. Simon pulled Rhiannon even closer, both hands on her buttocks now, and assisted her rising and falling motion, twisting her a shade to one side so that he could thrust a thigh between her legs.
At this application of pressure where she most desired it, Rhiannon made a low sound that was a cross between a moan and a purr of pleasure. She clung tighter, twisting and shifting and, with each movement of her body, rubbing against Simon’s swollen shaft. Normally he would have distracted himself from that sensation as best he could to ensure the satisfaction of his partner, but he was not sure he could content Rhiannon in this strange way, and he was not even sure he wanted her content. Thus, he let his body have its way and he came to climax in moments.
Finished, he pulled his mouth free, automatically straightening his leg and gripping Rhiannon harder, flat against him to stop her motion. She protested with wordless sounds and struggled to move, seeking to regain the pressure she desired, but Simon’s strength was too great for her and she cried his name, sobbing with frustration.
“Hush, love, hush,” Simon soothed, shifting her gently so that she was not pressed so hard against him.
This was by no means what Rhiannon wanted, but Simon persisted, kissing her forehead and cheeks, patting her back, and murmuring soothingly. Soon she calmed. Her arms loosened and slipped down from his neck; she sighed deeply and then stood away from him.
“Why?” she faltered. “Why did you not take me? I am willing.”
“Because I love you,” Simon replied. “A man does not take a woman he loves. You know without my telling you that I have taken many women—all willing. I do not need to force a woman. But I did not love any of them—nor did I say to them that I did. I will not despoil you, Rhiannon—no matter what you think you want.”
She stood looking at him, puzzled still but with a trace of suspicion in her clear eyes. “Then why did you begin to make love to me—to whet my appetite?” The last words held a dangerous sharpness.
“No,” Simon protested, and began to laugh. “Did you think I did that apurpose? Rhiannon, I have said more than once that I love you. You are very beautiful. I have been a long time without a woman. All the way here I held you close in my arms. I am afraid I was not thinking at all when we came down from Ymlladd.”
“Then what started you thinking again?” she persisted.
Simon could not tell her of his satisfaction or she would become too furious to listen to anything else he had to say. Besides, he had decided not to consummate their lovemaking before that had happened; he would not be lying, then, if he did not mention it.
Still smiling, he replied, “Two things. One is this cove you chose. Is there a place where we could lie down? Sharp rocks are no good bed for a maiden to bear her first man.”
That made Rhiannon smile also as she looked around. Then she glanced sidelong at Simon, suspicious again. “How is it that you noticed the rocks? I did not.”
“It is not my first time of desiring,” Simon pointed out with candor. He would never have said such a thing to another woman, but Rhiannon’s honesty demanded honesty in return, when the truth would not lead to so false an impression as to amount to a lie.
Rhiannon considered that answer and nodded acceptance, beginning to smile again. “And your second reason?”
“Your very great willingness. No, do not grow angry before you hear the rest. I was not disgusted by your forwardness. It was a delight to me. I very nearly forgot the rocks and everything else; otherwise I would have stopped sooner.” He stepped back a little so he could take her hands and raise them to his lips, after which he held them against his breast. “My love, my love, you are as innocent as a young doe, knowing the need of your body but not considering anything beyond it. I cannot grasp at that and forget all else. If you do not think of your own good, I must.”
The rigidity that had come over Rhiannon at Simon’s first words passed. She bent forward and kissed his hands, which were holding hers, then lifted her head and smiled at him. “You are very dear and very kind—but very wrong. I do, indeed, desire the satisfaction of my body…” Her voice faltered slightly over the words as they brought back the throbbing excitement she had felt. “But I assure you, I have given the matter much thought. Truly I have, Simon.”
“Rhiannon—”
“No, you must listen. I have gone wrong about this matter with you. I knew you would not understand, and—and I misjudged you also, thinking you would take eagerly what you desired and what I offered freely.”
“But I do not only desire you, Rhiannon,” Simon interjected.
A slight shadow passed over her face, but she shook her head. “I do not understand you. All else of me you may have as freely as any other person. What is it you want?”
“What I want, you do not offer to any person, except, perhaps, Kicva. Give me your inmost thoughts, your willingness to lay your life in my hands as I willingly lay mine in yours for all eternity. No, I do not mean you should never think a private thought, only that when you wish to share a thing you would not dare tell another person, you will tell it to me. This is what—” He stopped because Rhiannon was shaking her head.
“Eternity is a very long time,” she said. “Especially long to a young man of two and twenty—”
“And very short to an ancient grandmother one year younger?” Simon interrupted teasingly.
“No. It is even longer to me. How long is your eternity, Simon? Until you return to Pembroke? A month longer? A year? Beautiful one, let us both take joy of each other in this brief eternity—and when it is over, let us part with fondness and liking, never having promised each other more.”
“No.” Simon’s bright eyes were almost black with pain, but his voice was steady. “That is all I ever had with any woman and all I ever wanted until I saw you. I tell you, I love you, Rhiannon. I do not want a little easy pleasure. I want you for a life companion.”
“Now you do,” she sighed.
“But Rhiannon,” Simon said, brightening as he realized that all her objections seemed to center on the fact that he would not be steadfast, “if you wish to hold me, all you need to do is agree to marry me. Then I will be stuck fast, will I, nill I.”
“Are you mad?” she cried, recoiling and pulling her hands free with a shudder. “Such a life is an abomination
! Do you think I could endure to hold a man on such terms? Am I so poor a thing—”
“Rhiannon, Rhiannon,” Simon exclaimed, following her and repossessing her hands, “I was only jesting. How could you think otherwise? You will need no bonds and no lures to keep me faithful. That you are Rhiannon is enough. My love, you have set a geas upon me that I will never break.”
“No! I did not ‘call’ you! I—I do not think I did.”
“Call me? What do you mean?”
For answer, Rhiannon took her hands from Simon gently and turned toward where his stallion still stood quietly lipping at the sparse grass. “Ymlladd,” she called in a peculiar soft, singing tone, “Come, Ymlladd. Come. Come. Come to me.”
The animal raised his head and snorted softly. Simon tensed, preparing to jump in front of Rhiannon if the warhorse decided she was a threat and charged.
“Come, Ymlladd,” she called again, her voice hypnotic with its singing croon.
And the horse came! Simon held his breath as the stallion dropped his head to nuzzle Rhiannon’s hand and butted gently against her to demand attention when the hand with which she stroked him paused. Simon blinked and blinked again. Was this Ymlladd, who for years tried to savage the grooms who had tended him? True, Ymlladd never tried to kill Simon himself and would accept tokens of affection from him with grave dignity—but the stallion was acting like a colt!
“Enough,” Rhiannon said softly, and pushed the horse away.
She turned to Simon, smiling at his stunned expression but with worry deep in her eyes. “That is calling. I was told it was Angharad’s skill. My mother does not have it. She—she reads people. I can call almost any animal—but it does not work with people. Men and women have minds and wills—”
“So do horses, and I never met one with a stronger will than Ymlladd,” Simon said, but his eyes were glittering with mischief and laughter. “So you did set a geas on me!”
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