A Memory of Love (37 page)

Read A Memory of Love Online

Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance

BOOK: A Memory of Love
5.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

There was a silence, and then the king said, “Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn, come forward and tell us your side of this controversy.”

Rhonwyn arose slowly and stood before the king. She bowed, then turned to the clergy and bowed again. Thereupon she spoke in a voice so soft they all had to lean forward to hear. “Sire, my lords, I come before you today to beg for justice in this unfortunate matter. Edward de Beaulie claims I was a bad wife to him, and in part, that is true. When my mother died my father took me and my brother, Glynn, to a fortress in the Welshry where we were raised. There were no women there to guide me. When my father returned ten years later to announce I was to be wed, he was horrified, though why it was a surprise to him I do not know, to discover his daughter was more a lad than a lass.”

The king and the clergymen chuckled at her astute observation.

Rhonwyn continued. “I was then taken to my aunt's abbey, where for the next six months I learned all I could about being a female. My aunt, of course, had me baptized immediately, and I was enlightened in our faith. When I finally arrived at Haven Castle to be married, I was enough of a lass to be presentable, but I still had much to learn, and I endeavored to do so. I see that the castle priest, Father John, is here at this assembly. Good Father, did I become an acceptable chatelaine for Haven?”

“You did, lady,” the priest answered honestly.

Rhonwyn sighed deeply. “My lords, where I failed my husband was in the bedchamber. On our wedding night he cruelly forced me to his will, claiming that you, sire, had said he must. I did not believe such a thing then, and I certainly do not now. It was his lust that drove him to rape. After that I was always afraid of his advances. I knew I should not have been, but I was. There was no lady of my own station with whom I might speak in order to calm my fears. Then Prince Edward came to Haven with his talk of a crusade. I was enthusiastic! His princess wife was going. I saw no reason why I could not go. Perhaps if I fought for our good Lord, he would help me to overcome my fears.

“In Carthage, I nursed my husband devotedly during his illness. He is wrong to say I neglected him. It is not true! It was he, himself, who invited me to go off with his knight Sir Fulk to practice with my sword on that terrible day. He even insisted I garb myself in protective gear, and helped me to dress. Then the daily skirmish with the infidels began while we practiced. Foolishly—oh, how I regret it!—I ran off to join the fray. Sir Fulk came after me. My lords! The battle was grand! We won it in our Lord Christ's name! I, however, foolishly allowed myself to be cut off. I am not, after all, really a soldier, just a woman. While I may have a talent for the sword, I would, it seems, have none for tactics.”

Rafe de Beaulie, seated by his cousin's side, almost laughed aloud. She had more flare for tactics than any of them realized. All present sat spellbound by Rhonwyn's tale. The Celtic witch had them in the palm of her hand, and it was surely going to cost his cousin.

“Sir Fulk,” Rhonwyn continued, “God assoil his loyal soul—” She crossed herself. “—rode after me. He kept my captors from discovering that I was a female until we reached Cinnebar. In the battle I had killed the caliph of that place's brother. They brought me before this ruler for punishment. When he discovered I was a woman he had me placed within his harem. Fair women are much prized among the Arabs. Sir Fulk was executed in my place.” She crossed herself again.

“The caliph, his name is Rashid al Ahmet, took me as his second wife. He taught me not to fear passion, and he loved me, my lords, but all the while he held me in captivity I desired only one thing. To return to my husband, Edward de Beaulie. I hoped, and I prayed, and finally God answered my prayers. My little brother, Glynn, came to Cinnebar, seeking me. His fame as a poet and a minstrel attracted the attention of the caliph's head eunuch, a man called Baba Haroun.

“My brother was invited to the palace to entertain. The first song he sang was in the Welsh tongue, inquiring if I were in this place. He had sung this tune many times over the months as he sought me out. This night, however, his search was ended.” She sighed deeply.

Tears filled her eyes, and she swallowed them back bravely, then continued. “At that point in time, my lords, the caliph decided he wanted a child of my body. Harem women are kept sterile by means of herbs unless children are desired of them. Baba Haroun believed that any child of mine could compromise the position of the first wife's son, Prince Mohammed. He said so quite bluntly. It was then I took the chance that he might help me to escape. He did, my lords. We feigned my death, and with Baba Haroun's aid I left Cinnebar.

“Over the next few months my brother and our two faithful men-at-arms, Oth and Dewi, traveled back to England. It was a difficult journey, as you well may imagine. When I arrived at Haven, Father John told me that my husband had had me declared dead and remarried. Then the lady Katherine appeared. I saw how far gone she was with child. It was then I realized, my lords, that I had lost Edward de Beaulie.” A line of tears ran down her pale cheeks.

“My brother had told him in Acre that he was certain I lived, but Edward, alas, had no faith. He abandoned me, and now I beg you, sire, to give me justice. I seek the return of my dower and a forfeit from this man for the stain he has placed upon my father, upon me, and upon our family.” She bowed her head.

“My lady,” the archbishop of Canterbury said, “why is it you did not escape your shameful captivity in death?”

“My lord, I was taught it was wrong to take one's life, but even if I had been of a mind to do so, there was no way in which I might accomplish it. The women of the harem are watched constantly by a band of eunuchs. We are never alone. Our food is cut for us. We were required to eat with our fingers as no implements were allowed. Our garments are few, and there are no sashes or other loose girdles.”

The bishop of Winchester spoke. “Did you tell your husband, my lady, that this caliph person had taught you passion?”

“I did, my lord,” Rhonwyn answered. “Edward had been so unhappy with my coldness that I wanted him to know I had been freed of my irrational fears. That I could love him at last and was eager to give him children. I was too late. Another had taken my place. I accept that. It is my punishment for not being the proper kind of wife. I have always liked the lady Katherine, and I wish her no harm. I am glad that Edward has a son and an heir. But, my lords, what is to happen to me now? I fought with all my might to come home. I might have remained where I was in Cinnebar, beloved of another man. A powerful man, and a great ruler. In my heart, however, was a memory of the love I had for Edward de Beaulie.
I had to come back to England.

“I expected his anger, my lords, and I expected his scorn, to be sure. I did not expect that he should have held me in so little esteem that he had replaced me within a year of my alleged demise. I had hoped that I should be able to win back his love and his trust. I obviously never had it, and that, my lords, is my mistake. But again I ask you for justice. I was a faithful wife, if not with my body, in my heart and my soul. Edward de Beaulie was not a faithful husband.”

Her testimony concluded, Rhonwyn bowed once more to her judges and stepped back. Glynn ap Llywelyn was then called before the court. He described how he had learned of his sister's disappearance and his shock to discover Edward had written a letter to Rafe de Beaulie less than two months after Rhonwyn had gone missing. How he had left his studies and traveled with as much haste as possible to Acre to plead with his brother-in-law to wait before remarrying. How Edward had summarily dismissed him.

“Following the example of King Richard's minstrel, Blondell, my lords, I traveled the region singing my songs until, as my sister has told you, I found her.” He bowed to them and then stepped back to his place by Rhon-wyn's side.

“The lady Rhonwyn, her party, and the de Beaulies will leave the chamber,” the king said. “We must discuss this matter in private.”

Accompanied by her brother and the nuns, Rhonwyn glided from the hall. Behind her she could hear the de Beaulies stamping along. The king's steward came and led them to a small waiting chamber where wine and biscuits had been set out. The men quaffed the wine thirstily. Rhonwyn sat silently, a rosary in her hands.

“How meek and forlorn you appear,” Rafe de Beaulie said softly as he came to stand by her side.

She ignored him.

He chuckled. “You say you are no tactician, lady, but I think you would be a dangerous foe in battle. Despite your own behavior your splendid performance will cost poor Edward dearly, I am quite certain.”

Unable to help herself, Rhonwyn looked up. “You are despicable.”

“Lady, 'tis a compliment I offer you, not a rebuke,” he replied. “I admire a clever woman, and you are very clever, although perhaps not very wise. You should have remained in Cinnebar. Did you not realize that it would be impossible for Edward to take you back even if he had had no new wife by his side?”

“If he had loved me, nothing would have been impossible!” Rhonwyn burst out angrily. She still found it difficult to accept the haste with which Edward had acted.


Love?
Love is for children, lady. Marriages should be made for more practical reasons. Your marriage to Edward was part of a treaty between Wales and England. How could you have believed there was any love involved in it?”

“Perhaps because I am not very wise,” Rhonwyn replied mockingly. “You are wrong, Rafe de Beaulie. Love can exist between a married couple. I thought it had begun to bloom with Edward. He had, after all, said he loved me. Was I to think he lied?”

“A man will say many things when he is between a woman's legs” was the harsh response.

Rhonwyn's head snapped up, and she glared at him. “You really are despicable.
Go away!
Why do you find it necessary to torment me?”

He smiled down at her, and she was startled by the sudden realization that he was very handsome. The silver blue eyes mocked her. “I don't want to torment you, Rhonwyn,” he said in a voice so low that only she could have heard him.
“I want to make love to you.”

She grew pale. She could have sworn that her heart had stopped beating in her chest. She could not speak for a long moment. Finally she said, “If you ever approach me again, I will find a way to kill you, I promise.” Then she lowered her head again and began counting her rosary beads.

“You are very bold,” the abbess said to Rafe, and she laughed when he flushed. “Aye, I heard you, sir. My hearing is acute. It has to be if I am to keep strict order within my abbey's walls.”

“She will be like you when she is old,” he said.

“Probably,” the abbess answered dryly. “Now goback with your cousin, Rafe de Beaulie, and leave my niece be.”

They waited. Finally the door to the room opened, and the royal chamberlain stood, beckoning them. Returning to the hall, they saw that the king was gone. The queen and the clergy remained.

“The king,” Queen Eleanor said, “was exhausted by this morning's events. He has left me to render his judgment. You acted in haste, Edward de Beaulie, when you remarried without truly knowing if your first wife was dead. However, by having her declared officially dead, your marriage to Lady Katherine is declared legal by the church, and your son, legitimate. It is not believed that you acted with any malice, but rather from the honest conviction that Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn was really dead. When you learned she was not, though, you acted with total disregard for her honor and her family's honor. For this you shall pay a forfeit, and you shall return her dower portion to her. Is that understood, my lord?”

Edward de Beaulie bowed and said grudgingly, “Aye, my lady.”

“As for you, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn, you have condemned yourself by your own words. However, you would appear truly repentant of your sins. The church has taken into consideration the absence of God in your life during most of your life. Your future, though, presents us with a difficult problem. Your lascivious behavior makes you, even penitent, unfit for the church. It will also make it difficult to find a husband for you, and you must have a husband, my dear. You are a lady of noble family who is obviously in need of strong husbandly guidance. But under the circumstances of your recent adventures, who will have you?” the queen said, troubled.

“I will have her.”

Rhonwyn turned to stare, surprised, at Rafe de Beaulie, and then she lost her temper.
“Never!”
she shouted at him.
“Never!”
She held out her hands in appeal to the queen. “Madame, surely you will not take this man seriously? Besides, there must be some consanguinity between us because of my marriage to Edward de Beaulie.”

Queen Eleanor looked to the assembled clergymen. “My lords?”

The archbishop and bishops put their heads together, and the hum of their voices could be heard murmuring in debate over the question. Finally the archbishop of Canterbury spoke.

“There is no blood tie between Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn and Rafe de Beaulie,” he said. “If the lady had given Edward de beaulie a child, then the tie would be there, but it is not. He is free to take her as his wife. It is our opinion that this is the best solution to the matter at hand, my lady.”

“I will not have him!”
Rhonwyn said firmly.

“The choice, my dear,” the queen replied, “is not yours. You must have a husband, and he is willing to have you despite all your faults.”

“No!”
Unable to help herself and in utter frustration, Rhonwyn stamped her foot at Eleanor of Provence.

The queen ignored Rhonwyn's protest and turned to her aunt. “My lady abbess, are you delegated by the prince of the Welsh to act in the matter of your niece?”

“I am,” the abbess replied.

“What say you?” the queen queried.

“I would know first what kind of a home and hearth this man has to offer my niece. 'Tis not a castle, I am certain, and my niece is of noble blood. Even her mother, God assoil her, was lawfully born into a noble house. We are anxious that Rhonwyn be re-wed, but we will not act in haste and place our child in a difficult situation or one not suited to her station.”

Other books

Worlds Apart by J. T. McIntosh
Por favor, cuida de mamá by Kyung-Sook Shin
Dust City by Robert Paul Weston
Seeing Forever by Vanessa Devereaux
A Callahan Carol by March, Emily, Dawson, Geralyn