"You have nought to be ashamed of, lady," he told her. "Are you not the heiress to this estate? Gwernach is famed far and wide for its herbs and cheese. It is a goodly inheritance and one that is worthy of my wife."

"I shall never inherit Gwernach, my lord," Wynne said firmly.

"You cannot be certain, lady," he told her bluntly. "Your brother is young. It will be many years before he comes to manhood and sires sons of his own. Anything could happen before then."

"It will not as long as I am here at Gwernach to defend and protect him, and I will be, my lord. That I promise you," Wynne told Rhys of St. Bride's.

"And what of your younger sisters, lady? Will you keep them at Gwernach too? Do they not deserve to be wed?"

"All of my granddaughters will be wed to proper husbands in time, my lord," Enid said.

"If you will be my wife, Wynne of Gwernach," Rhys replied, "I will see your sisters married to men of wealth and stature. I have two cousins seeking wives. They are young and each has a fine estate. You cannot possibly find husbands of such stature for your sisters as I can. The weddings can be celebrated even before you wed me. An act of good faith on my part, if you will."

"I have a younger sister as well," Wynne said, wondering what his answer to that would be. "Her name is Mair and she is six."

"The child who killed your mother with her birthing? She should be settled in a convent after our marriage that she may spend the rest of her days atoning for her sin," he answered.

"Never!" Wynne gasped, furious. "That my mother died in giving life to Mair is unfortunate, but surely no sin of the child's. I shall never incarcerate her in a convent, unless, of course, she wished to go to one. If those be your plans for Mair, I shudder to imagine what plans you have for Dewi."

"The boy would be raised at St. Bride's," Rhys said. "I have several fosterlings in my charge. He could learn his battle skills with them. They are a fine, rough and tumble troop of lads."

"Dewi's place is here at Gwernach, learning how to manage his lands and care for his people; not at St. Bride's learning how to kill people!" Wynne told her suitor indignantly.

He looked at her and his eyes narrowed as if he were reconsidering her worth as an opponent. Then he said, "Lady, you are obviously overwrought by the magnitude of my offer. I could go to our king, Gryffydd ap Llywelyn, who is the head of your family, and request your hand in marriage and the fostership of your brother and his lands. What do you think his answer would be, lady? When I explained to him the seriousness of the situation, do you think he would leave Gwernach and its little lord in the hands of an unfledged girl?

"I should prefer, however, that you accept my offer of your own free will. I shall be a good husband to you, and I shall look after all of your interests with care, that you may feel free to concentrate on bearing me legitimate sons who will, in time, inherit my own holdings. What say you, lady?"

"I must have time to think," Wynne told him. "What you say has merit, my lord, but I must still rest easy in my mind that I am doing the right thing. I know you will understand my feelings, though I be but a mere girl."

Rhys of St. Bride's smiled, showing a row of short, even white teeth, "Tonight is the first night of the new moon," he told her. "When the moon is full again, I will come for your answer, lady mine."

"You will stay the night?" Wynne asked, hoping he would refuse her, but he did not.

Instead he nodded. "Aye, I will bide here tonight that we may get to know one another better."

"Grandmother," Wynne said, "I must see to the evening meal. Will you entertain our guest?"

"You have taught her well, lady," the lord of St. Bride's said approvingly. "Does she know the duties of a wife as well as she knows those of a chatelaine?"

"She will upon her wedding day," Enid said, her tones slightly tart. "Such knowledge is best saved, my lord, lest a maiden become too curious before the proper time."

"Aye," he agreed, and he smiled broadly. "Teach her well, lady, for I am a man of vast appetite where female flesh is concerned. I will accept girlish modesty upon our wedding night, but after that I will have no coyness or disobedience. Be sure your granddaughter understands that. I will mate with her often, and not just to get a child upon her, but because I enjoy the act."

Enid was astounded by his frankness. "I hope," she told him as directly, "that you will be as honest with your wife as you have been with me, my lord."

He laughed. A rich, deep sound that filled the hall. "Aye, I will, lady. I am not such a fool that I believe all women to be alike. Weak, helpless creatures without a thought beyond their halls and children. Most are so, but some, like the lady Wynne, are not. Your granddaughter is intelligent, I can see. I will not hold it against her, for it is an asset to me. It means that should I have to go to war, I can entrust the safety of my castle and my lands to her. She will not steal from me as would one of my male relations."

Now it was Enid 's turn to laugh. Rhys of St. Bride's reasoning was, to her amusement, both astute and sound. She understood Wynne's reluctance to marry anyone at this time, but certainly her grandchild could do worse than to have Rhys of St. Bride's for a husband. Though she would not put it above him to dispose of Dewi ap Owain should the opportunity present itself, she did not believe he was a truly wicked man. "I shall not oppose your suit for Wynne's hand," she told him.

"Thank you, lady," he answered.

Dewi now came into the hall, and Enid was pleased to see he had changed his clothing. He was wearing a red-orange tunic decorated at the neck with gold embroidery, and his hose, which was yellow, was cross gartered. His father's heavy gold chain hung from his neck. He strode up to the high board, joining them and saying as he did so, "As lord of Gwernach, I welcome you to my home, Rhys of St. Bride's."

Rhys noted that a well-trained house slave placed a goblet almost immediately in the boy's hand. His elder sister obviously saw that the lad was deferred to by their people. "Thank you, Dewi ap Owain," he said. "You will undoubtedly want to know the purpose of my visit."

The boy nodded.

"I wish your sister, Wynne's, hand in marriage. Will you give me your permission to wed with her?"

"The decision must be my sister's and hers alone," Dewi said. "Marriage, my lord, is a serious step for a woman to take. Should she be permitted to choose well, she gains a lifetime of happiness. Should she be forced to it, she faces many years of bitterness and sorrow. I love Wynne too well that I would force her to any marriage but one she chose herself."

"If your sister wed with me, Dewi ap Owain, you should come to St. Bride's castle with us and learn all the skills of a knight. Would you not like that?" Rhys tempted.

"A lord of Gwernach's place is at Gwernach," Dewi replied, "not at St. Bride's. I have no burning desire to be a warrior, my lord," and then seeing his grandmother's stern look, he amended, "but I thank you for your offer."

Caitlin and Dilys reentered the hall and hurried to join the others.

"Do not be such a baby, Dewi," Caitlin said, her sharp ears having overheard her bother's remark. "The lord of St. Bride's has offered you a fabulous opportunity, and not one that is offered to just any lad. I have heard it said, my lord, that you do not accent all the boys whose families would have you foster them. That you choose only the bravest and the strongest. Is it true?"

"Aye," he said shortly, still somewhat put out by Dewi's answer. What kind of a boy didn't want to be a warrior?

"Will we live at St. Bride's too when you wed with our sister?" Caitlin asked coyly.

Her question penetrated his conscious and he smiled slightly. This was an opportunistic wench, he thought, but she would be an excellent match for his weak-kneed cousin, the lord of Coed. There had been too much inbreeding in that particular branch of the family. This girl would take his cousin in tow and bear strong sons for that line. "If your sister, the lady Wynne, will marry me," he told Caitlin, "I will give you my cousin, the lord of Coed, to be your husband."

"And my sisters?" Caitlin demanded.

"The child, Mair, is too young to marry, but I have another cousin, the lord of Llyn, who will do for the lady Dilys. Both these men are young with rich estates. Would that please you, my lady Caitlin? My lady Dilys?"

"Aye!" Caitlin said. " 'Twould please me mightily, my lord! We will plead your cause with our sister, I assure you."

Dilys giggled vacuously.

The house slaves now began to bring the table service to the high board, laying well-polished pewter plates before each diner, and matching goblets. Trenchers of bread were placed on the plates. Frosty pitchers of ale and crocks of sweet butter; a small round of Gwernach's Gold upon its own board were set forth upon the table.

Wynne joined them, saying, "I apologize, my lord, for the simplicity of our meal. Alas, we did not have enough notice of your coming."

She signaled the servants, who began to place upon the table serving dishes of all sizes. There was a platter of broiled rabbit, and others containing trout, capons, and venison. There were two pies filled with game birds cut into chunks and swimming in a rich gravy of red wine. There were bowls of carrots, braised lettuce, and one of spring peas, as well as loaves of bread fresh from the ovens and warm enough yet that the butter melted upon it.

"You have directed your cook well in the seasoning," Rhys of St. Bride's noted. "Are you capable of instructing your kitchen churls in more intricate fare, my lady Wynne?"