Castle of Dreams (50 page)

The snow lay deep on Afoncaer, and the cold
winter sun was sinking in pale gold and blue splendour when Guy and
his men galloped up the castle road. The gates were not yet closed
for the night, so they paused for only a moment while the guards
greeted their returning lord and then waved him on into the safety
of his own walls.

Guy tossed his reins to a groom who came
running from the stables to take his horse, and then strode into
the great hall, pulling off helmet and gloves. Reynaud rose from
his usual seat by the firepit, leaving a pile of papers on the
trestle table.

“My lord,” Reynaud exclaimed, “welcome
home.”

“You.” Guy frowned. “I’ll have speech with
you later about your communications to King Henry. Where is
Meredith?”

“I believe she is in the stillroom, or
perhaps in the lord’s chamber.” Reynaud met the cold blue fire of
Guy’s glare, adding, “I beg you to remember, Sir Guy, that like
yourself, I am King Henry’s sworn servant.”

“I knew that. But I did not expect you to spy
on me in my own bedchamber.”

“I have not spied, I have only reported what
I could not avoid seeing or hearing, and also what people such as
Sir Brian or the Lady Branwen, have told me. Believe me, my lord, I
am your friend.”

“And Meredith’s.” Guy saw a flicker of
something strange in Reynaud’s eyes. It was only for a moment, and
then it was gone, but suddenly everything Reynaud had done made
sense to Guy.

“Most assuredly, I am the lady’s friend,”
Reynaud said smoothly.

“Ahhhh,” Guy said, shaken by complete
understanding. “More than friend.”

Reynaud was too clever to pretend he had not
noticed Guy’s comprehension.

“May I remind you, my lord, that although I
am not an ordained priest, I took a vow of chastity when I became a
lay brother?”

“And have never foresworn any oath?”

“Never, my lord.”

“I believe you. We’ll talk later. I may have
cause to thank you for your meddling, friend fox.” On that, Guy
left him.

Meredith was not in the stillroom. Guy paused
at the entrance, breathing in the mixture of scents that filled the
room. Herbs hung from the ceiling to dry, capped jars and covered
bowls of medicines sat on the shelves. A small basket of dried
lavender flowers sat on the work table. Guy bent his head and
sniffed, remembering how Meredith smelled when he took her into his
arms. He had abstained from women during his absence, though
several ladies at court had made it quite clear they would not
reject any advances he might make. He had wanted none of them, only
Meredith. As the clean, astringent scent of the lavender filled his
senses, the need for her swept over him. He could think of nothing
else.

He raced for the stairs and bounded up and
around the spiral, two and three steps at a time. It was so far to
the top. She had to be there, in his own room, waiting for him.

She met him halfway up. She fell into his
arms, nearly knocking him off his feet.

“I heard your men in the courtyard. The
servants will bring water for your bath in a moment. I laid out
fresh clothes for you. Oh, Guy. Oh, Guy.”

His face was buried in her fragrant curls,
and then her soft white throat, and at last he found her lips and
stilled her jubilant cries with his kiss. When he removed his mouth
from hers she was giggling.

“Will you have me here on the stairs, my
lord? Without unarming? What will the servants say?” Only then did
he realize he had sunk against the curve of the stairs, Meredith
under him, his knees braced awkwardly against the hard edge of one
stone step.

“Wouldn’t you prefer your own bed?” Meredith
teased, nibbling at one of his ears. “You can remove your armor
first, and the bed is much softer, not to mention warmer, than
these steps.”

“Up, wench.” He swatted at her bottom as she
scrambled to her feet and ran lightly up the steps ahead of him.
Her laughter bubbled out, and then he was laughing, too, marveling
at the effect she had on him. Just the sight of her made him happy,
her voice was like music, the warmth in her eyes was a soft caress.
No matter how many times they made love, he never tired of her.

She glanced over her shoulder, flirting with
him as he followed her into his bedchamber. He would have tossed
her on the bed and taken her then, chain mail or no, but two brawny
man-servants arrived with buckets of hot water for his bath, and
then his younger squire, Robert, appeared to help him disarm, and
so he was forced to wait.

There seemed to be a great many people in and
out of his room as he disrobed and then bathed with the help of a
kitchen wench, while Meredith stood in the background directing the
activity as if she had been ordering servants all her life. Robert
collected Guy’s chain mail and took it to the great hall to be
cleaned. One of the men who had brought the bath water was told to
carry the padded undergarments to the women’s quarters, where Joan
would sew up a rent in one sleeve and patch a hole. A maidservant
appeared with a tray of food – it was past time for the evening
meal, and Guy had said he would eat in his room, and agreed with
Joan, who had also come to the room while he was in his bath, that
the welcoming feast would take place two days later, and then
finally Guy was in his long, warm indoor robe and the bath water
and tub were carried out. Meredith closed the door behind the last
servant and threw the bolt. She leaned back against the door.

“Welcome home, my lord,” she said.

“Come here.” Guy opened his arms and she went
into them, nestling against him, and Guy, who had been wrestling
for the last hour and a half with the frustration of an aching,
urgent need, suddenly found himself overcome with tenderness.

He kissed the top of her head, then her
forehead and her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and finally the lips
she offered so happily. Her body under his searching hands was
rounder than he remembered it, her breasts fuller and firmer. He
took note of the changes, meaning to tease her gently about eating
too much in his absence, but her hands were on him, she was loving
him as only Meredith could, easing his need, ending any lingering
doubts about King Henry’s order or about the proper kind of
marriage for a nobleman. He did not want a loveless contract, a
legal agreement to breed children for heirs and nothing more. He
wanted Meredith, only Meredith, beside him for the rest of his
life.

“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.