copper links. Enit put a matching fur-lined cloak over her shoulders, and together the two young women hurried to the small church that was located within the castle's walls. There they attended the mass, and afterward the priest came forward to greet the girl who would be the castle's new mistress.
“You are rested now, my child?” Father John asked her. “I was sorry we did not meet at table last night.”
“I was very wearied from my journey,” Rhonwyn explained. “The prince was most anxious to deliver me lest the English think he had reneged on his promise to marry his daughter to King Henry's man.”
The priest heard the faint tone of mockery in her voice. “You are content with this arrangement, my child?” he gently inquired.
“I am told I must marry, good father, if I have no calling to God's service, which I most assuredly do not,” she laughed. “It is my duty and my obligation to my prince to accept his decision in this matter. The lord of this place seems kind and has been most considerate of me. I have never had a suitor, nor is there anyone who has captured my fancy. This match is acceptable to me.”
“Good,” the priest replied. “I am happy to see what an obedient and dutiful daughter you are, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn. You will undoubtedly be an obedient and dutiful wife as well. The lord has asked that the ceremony be performed after the hour of None. Will that be acceptable to you, my child?”
Rhonwyn's eyes twinkled at the priest. “I have only but to be there, good father, do I not?” she told him. Then she and Enit hurried off.
The priest watched her go, and he could not keep a small smile from turning up the corners of his mouth. The new lady of Haven Castle was a touch independent and headstrong, he could see. Well, she would need her strength. She was very much like her aunt, the abbess of Mercy Abbey. He had once served in the church there some ten years back. He sensed a disdain in his new lady for her father, and wondered why. Still, she seemed quite reconciled to her fate, so he had to assume that all would be well.
Because it was considered ill fortune for the bridegroom to see the bride prior to the marriage ceremony, Rhonwyn kept to her chambers until it was time for her to go to the church again. Enit dressed her in the gown her aunt had made for the occasion. It was cream-colored silk, the neckline high and rounded, the sleeves long and tight. Over it she wore a sleeveless gown of gold and silver brocade with a matching fabric girdle studded with tiny pearls. Her stockings were plain and gartered at the knee. Her shoes had a pretty painted toe. Enit brushed her hair, leaving it loose to signify her virginity. The servant set a small fillet of twisted gold and silver threads on Rhonwyn's head.
There was a knock at the door, and Enit opened it to reveal Llywelyn ap Gruffydd. She curtsied.
“Run along, lass,” he told her. “I would speak with my daughter before I bring her to the church.” He gently pushed the girl from the chamber and closed the door behind her.
“What do you want?” Rhonwyn demanded of him irritably.
“To remind you that whatever you may feel toward me, you are still the daughter of the prince of all Wales and Welsh by your birth. Remember it, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn. I will expect you to write to me regularly, my daughter.”
“Can you actually read?” she mocked him. Then her look hardened. “I have worked hard to overcome your neglect of me, my lord, and I have accepted your choice of a husband for me. I have done my duty by you; but once the priest says that I am Edward de Beaulie's wife, my loyalty will lie with him. Do you understand me, my lord? I will not spy on my husband or on the English for you! ”
“Your duty …” he began to bluster, but Rhonwyn cut him short.
“I am doing my duty, my lord, but shortly you will no longer have charge over me. My English husband will, and I will not betray him. What more do you want than
“You are rested now, my child?” Father John asked her. “I was sorry we did not meet at table last night.”
“I was very wearied from my journey,” Rhonwyn explained. “The prince was most anxious to deliver me lest the English think he had reneged on his promise to marry his daughter to King Henry's man.”
The priest heard the faint tone of mockery in her voice. “You are content with this arrangement, my child?” he gently inquired.
“I am told I must marry, good father, if I have no calling to God's service, which I most assuredly do not,” she laughed. “It is my duty and my obligation to my prince to accept his decision in this matter. The lord of this place seems kind and has been most considerate of me. I have never had a suitor, nor is there anyone who has captured my fancy. This match is acceptable to me.”
“Good,” the priest replied. “I am happy to see what an obedient and dutiful daughter you are, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn. You will undoubtedly be an obedient and dutiful wife as well. The lord has asked that the ceremony be performed after the hour of None. Will that be acceptable to you, my child?”
Rhonwyn's eyes twinkled at the priest. “I have only but to be there, good father, do I not?” she told him. Then she and Enit hurried off.
The priest watched her go, and he could not keep a small smile from turning up the corners of his mouth. The new lady of Haven Castle was a touch independent and headstrong, he could see. Well, she would need her strength. She was very much like her aunt, the abbess of Mercy Abbey. He had once served in the church there some ten years back. He sensed a disdain in his new lady for her father, and wondered why. Still, she seemed quite reconciled to her fate, so he had to assume that all would be well.
Because it was considered ill fortune for the bridegroom to see the bride prior to the marriage ceremony, Rhonwyn kept to her chambers until it was time for her to go to the church again. Enit dressed her in the gown her aunt had made for the occasion. It was cream-colored silk, the neckline high and rounded, the sleeves long and tight. Over it she wore a sleeveless gown of gold and silver brocade with a matching fabric girdle studded with tiny pearls. Her stockings were plain and gartered at the knee. Her shoes had a pretty painted toe. Enit brushed her hair, leaving it loose to signify her virginity. The servant set a small fillet of twisted gold and silver threads on Rhonwyn's head.
There was a knock at the door, and Enit opened it to reveal Llywelyn ap Gruffydd. She curtsied.
“Run along, lass,” he told her. “I would speak with my daughter before I bring her to the church.” He gently pushed the girl from the chamber and closed the door behind her.
“What do you want?” Rhonwyn demanded of him irritably.
“To remind you that whatever you may feel toward me, you are still the daughter of the prince of all Wales and Welsh by your birth. Remember it, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn. I will expect you to write to me regularly, my daughter.”
“Can you actually read?” she mocked him. Then her look hardened. “I have worked hard to overcome your neglect of me, my lord, and I have accepted your choice of a husband for me. I have done my duty by you; but once the priest says that I am Edward de Beaulie's wife, my loyalty will lie with him. Do you understand me, my lord? I will not spy on my husband or on the English for you! ”
“Your duty …” he began to bluster, but Rhonwyn cut him short.
“I am doing my duty, my lord, but shortly you will no longer have charge over me. My English husband will, and I will not betray him. What more do you want than
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