"Good," he said. "Very good, my pretty bitch." They ascended the staircase, passing his apartment, then moving into the even narrower staircase leading to her apartment in the tower. He opened the door and pushed her through. "Do not come out until the morning, Isleen. I will send Arwydd to you. Once she is inside, I will loose the mastiffs. They will tear you to pieces if you try to enter my apartments. Good night." He pulled the door shut and descended down to the next level, where his own rooms were located. Entering, he said to Arwydd, "Go to your mistress, and be warned, the mastiffs will be loosed shortly. Remain with your lady until the morning."

"Yes, my lord." Arwydd curtsied, and hurried out.

Merin ap Owen glanced about and saw the tub had already been taken from before the fire. Walking into his bedchamber, he looked through into the tiny interior chamber opposite his bed. "You have not prepared yourself for bed yet," he said to Elf, who was fully dressed. "Are your garments not damp from the rain?"

"There is no door, or curtain to provide me with privacy," Elf told him.

"It is better that you are where I can see you," he said. "Take off your gown, lady. As you so pithily reminded me earlier, your husband will not pay me for a corpse. I am certain your chemise is a modest enough garment, and my baser instincts can be kept in check. Besides, if I wanted your virtue, my lady Eleanore, I could take it no matter you were dressed in armor."

She stared at him, not certain if she was shocked or amused by his words. "Blow out the candles on the candle stand," she said finally.

"Very well," he replied, complying. Then watching her shadow, for the bedchamber fire gave some light, he drew his own garments off and climbed into his bed. "Sleep well, lady," he said.

Elf listened to his breathing; shortly he was snoring. She whispered her prayers and tried to sleep, but sleep would not come at first. Her mind was filled with questions for which she had no answers. How had Isleen de Warenne ended up here at Gwynfr Castle? And Merin ap Owen? What kind of a man was he really? While his tongue was rough with Isleen, he was courteous with her. Was she safe from his advances, if indeed he even made advances toward her? It was all very confusing. She was not worried about her son, for the Ashlin folk would care for Simon with singular devotion. A wet nurse would be easily found among her serfs. While he might miss her face, Simon would be oblivious to her absence, given a warm breast to nurse upon and sturdy arms to cuddle him. Elf, however, could not shake free from her desperate sense of loss of both the infant and Ranulf. Her breasts ached every bit as much as her heart, which she felt was near to breaking. But for Simon’s sake she had to mask her emotions. Her enemies must not know of his existence.

Ranulf. She sighed softly. He would be safe in Normandy, but when was he coming home? When you hear of King Stephen’s death, she reminded herself, but she had heard nothing of the king, and here it was October. But then Ashlin in its remote location was always last to hear any important news, Elf thought. And she was stuck here in Wales until her ransom was paid. It could not even be demanded, surely, until her husband came home, whenever that was.

Elf felt tears pricking against her eyelids, and blinked them back. She would not allow this Welsh bandit and his evil whore to know she was fearful. Ranulf. Her heart cried out for him. She could see his face in her mind’s eye. The dark bushy brows over his warm hazel eyes. His big mouth that could kiss her both tenderly and fiercely all at once. She could almost feel the softness of his chestnut hair between her fingers. How gently he had wooed her. How very much she loved him, and if she ever saw him again in this life, she intended telling him so even if it would abash him! Had anyone ever loved Ranulf de Glandeville? From what he had told her, the answer was no. Well, it was past time someone who loved Ranulf told him so. He would just have to get used to it, and even if he didn't love her because he didn't know how to love, it would make no difference. She loved him, and that was all there was to it!

When she awoke the following morning, Merin ap Owen had gone from the bedchamber. Elf arose and dressed. She walked into the dayroom of the apartment and tried the door into the hallway, but discovered it was locked. Still, a fire burned in the fireplace, and a tray with a carafe of liquid, a small fresh loaf of bread, an apple, and a honeycomb was set upon the table. She wondered if Isleen had poisoned the food and drink, but then decided she was being foolish. She could hear sounds in the tower apartment above her indicating that Isleen was still there. Besides, Isleen would not have a key to her prison.

Elf sat down and ate, prudently leaving half the food for later. When she had finished, she made up the bed in the lord’s chamber and her own little pallet, for lack of anything else to do. She next gazed out the window for a time. Gwynfr was set atop a craggy hillock. Below she could see a village. The hills about them were alive with autumn color. The day was gray and rainy. She had only just sat down by the fire when she heard the key in the lock, and leapt up.

Merin ap Owen came through the door. "Ah, you are awake, my lady Eleanore," he said. "Sit down, and we will speak on the matter that concerns us. Namely, your ransom."

Elf seated herself again. "My husband is in Normandy," she said. "You picked a rather bad time to kidnap me, my lord." He was a handsome man, she thought, but for that terrible thin scar running down the left side of his face. "There is no one at Ashlin who can pay you any ransom you are going to demand. No one has the authority."

"You speak as if you do not know when your husband will return."

"I do not know," Elf told him frankly.

"Why did he go to Normandy?"

"He did not confide in me, my lord, although it may have had something to do with his mother, who lives there with her second husband," Elf replied as naturally as if it were the purest truth.

"Or perhaps he went to make his peace with Duke Henry, for I hear the English king is ill," Merin ap Owen observed.

"Mayhap, but my husband has always been loyal to King Stephen, my lord. It was the king who arranged our marriage to reward Ranulf for his dedication and fealty."

"The why does not matter," Merin ap Owen observed. "If I must keep you for a time, I will, my lady Eleanore, but to be frank, I had not anticipated it," he told her. "The lady Isleen is a dangerous enemy to have, as you know. While I realize her grievance against you lacks substance, she nonetheless believes her cause is just and seeks her revenge."

"She is a stupid creature with the wit of a flea," Elf said irritably. "She kills my brother, then blames me because I will not allow myself to be killed by her so she may have my family’s lands! I once thought I had great patience, but Isleen de Warenne would try the patience of all the saints and angels in God’s heaven!"

He laughed aloud, suddenly realizing that he liked this young woman. Isleen had sneered at her goodness, and the truth was that Merin ap Owen could never remember having met a good woman. He was beginning to suspect that Eleanore de Montfort might really be one. "Isleen is indeed stupid," he agreed, "but do not underestimate her, my lady, for while a dullard and simpleton in most ways, she has incredible guile, which is what makes her a treacherous foe."

"It was her idea to kidnap me?"

His dark head nodded in the affirmative. "Frankly, my lady Eleanore, I would have been content to steal all your sheep and cattle, but as Isleen pointed out, I would gain but half their value as everyone knows that what I sell, I have stolen. By stealing you, I force your husband to sell the livestock himself, and gain twice what I would otherwise."

"She has put you to a great deal of trouble, Merin ap Owen," Elf said. "If you had taken the sheep and the cattle, you would now have your reward. Instead you must wait for my husband to return from Normandy, and while we wait, you must keep me safe from your whore. I wonder if you are up to such a task, my lord. It would seem for a stupid woman, Isleen has outmaneuvered us both."

He laughed again. "You are not at all as Isleen described you to me, lady."

"From the time I was five years old until the day I returned home to nurse my dying brother, I never saw Dickon or his wife, but once, shortly after they were wed. Within a convent you are protected from the realities of the world. It is a simple matter to cultivate holiness in a place where there is little temptation, Merin ap Owen. I probably seemed an innocent ninny to Isleen. She bases her impression of me on that brief acquaintance we shared. While I still surely possess a certain amount of naiveté, I am not quite the sweet and simple girl Isleen thinks I am. If she attempts me any harm, I will defend myself with every means at my disposal. The only thing I cannot prevent her from doing is poisoning me. You had best be certain that she does not, else you lose your ransom, my lord Merin."

He nodded, impressed by her astuteness. By the rood, she was a lovely woman! "I will keep you safe," he promised her.

"I believe that you will," Elf replied softly. Then she said, "Must I remain here, my lord, all the time?"

"Nay," he told her. "You are welcome in the hall, lady."

"I cannot simply sit and do nothing," Elf said. "If you have a tapestry frame, I could begin a tapestry; or if you have clothing that needs mending, I will do it for you. I dislike being idle, you will understand, my lord. If you have someone who could gather certain herbs and plants for me, I will make poultices, teas, and salves for your infirmary. Who cares for your sick and wounded?"