Gwyr, a fussy fellow, shrieked aloud. "Drop those pies, you clumsy oaf," he threatened, "and I'll mince you up to take their place!"
The boy tossed the cook a saucy grin, not in the least fearful of the threat. "You'll have to catch me first, Da!" he laughed.
"Is there to be fish?" Wynne asked.
"Aye, my lady! Sea trout stuffed with mullet stuffed with oysters. It's to be steamed in wine and herbs and served with carved lemons on a bed of fresh watercress."
"You are an artist," Wynne told him. "Are the sweets made?"
"Aye! Harry, the baker, has made a sugar cake for our brides, and we have molded rose jellies and candied violets as well as an apple tart."
"You have all done your work so well, there is little left for me to do," Wynne complimented Gwyr and his staff.
"You must make yourself beautiful for your prince," Gwyr said with a sly smile.
Wynne laughed. "I shall have no time for my lord Madoc until I have seen to the safe departure of my sisters."
Gwyr said nothing, but a voice from somewhere in the cook house said quite distinctly, "Which cannot come too soon, lady!"
"For shame!" Wynne answered, shaking her finger at the unseen culprit, but she was hard-pressed to contain her laughter. Neither Caitlin nor Dilys had ever been popular with the servants, and with good cause. They were both demanding girls who were never content with the service rendered them.
Wynne next hurried to the church to find Father Drew directing several young girls who had just arrived bearing fresh flowers, still wet with the dew, and branches of greens, newly picked, with which to decorate the church. Unlocking a long, narrow box in the vestibule, Wynne drew out fresh beeswax candles and gave them to the priest. Moving on back to the hall, she found the men already stirring and, catching Einion's attention, said, "Make certain that the lords of Coed and Llyn bathe before they wed. I suspect neither has seen water in several weeks, for I noted that both were rank yesterday when they came. Perhaps, though, it was just the hot ride."
"I'll bathe them myself, lady," Einion said, a grin upon his face, "not that your sisters deserve the kindness I do them. The prince will help me. He's a man who likes his water."
"Take them to the river and then see the oak tub is filled as quickly as possible so the ladies may wash."
The large oak tub used for bathing was quickly set up in an alcove of the solar and filled with hot water. Wynne woke her guests first, but both the ladies Blodwen and Gladys looked horrified at her suggestion they might like to bathe.
"I shall be chilled to the bone if I bathe," Blodwen protested in weak tones. "I would surely catch my death of cold and be abed for months… if I survived."
"I only bathe in my own tub," the lady Gladys said loftily, "and I did so last month. I certainly do not need another bath yet."
"Mother! Do I have to?" Gwenda whined petulantly.
"Of course not, my treasure," Gladys told her daughter.
"As you will, my ladies," Wynne said politely, and woke her sisters.
Seeing the large tub set up, Caitlin and Dilys began to argue as to who should bathe first.
"Caitlin is the eldest," Wynne said, settling the argument.
"You are the eldest," Mair piped up.
"I will go last, as any good hostess would," Wynne said. "Let our brides wash themselves before the rest of us; and Caitlin is the eldest of the brides."
Several maidservants came up to the solar to help with the preparations, and to Wynne's amazement, they were all ready in the few minutes before the first mass of the morning was to begin. Wynne silently blessed Madoc's generosity, for she, her grandmother, Dewi, and her sisters looked wonderful. They had no need to feel ashamed before their guests.
Caitlin was elegant and almost beautiful in her copper and black brocade tunic dress with its under tunic of shiny copper silk. The outer tunic was girded with a belt of hammered copper circles enameled with a black design. Caitlin's shoes were a soft brown leather that followed the shape of her foot, and about her neck she wore a long strand of pearls, while from each of her ears dangled a large, fat pearl earring. Her long, dark brown hair, the color of ripe acorns, flowed unbound down her back, contained by a gold band decorated with small pearls.
Pretty Dilys wore equally lovely wedding garb. Over her pale blue silk under tunic she had a sky blue silk tunic dress embroidered with dainty silver stars and belted with a twisted silver rope. Upon her feet were silver kid slippers, and about her neck she wore a long strand of pearls similar to her sister's. Her earrings, however, were aquamarine drops set in silver, which matched the oval aquamarine centered in the headband restraining her brown-gold hair, which, like Caitlin's, was unbound.
"Your sisters are remarkably well-dressed," the lady Gladys noted sharply, feeling slightly put in the shade by the youthful loveliness of the two brides. "I would not have believed it possible, for you are simple, country people."
"Gwernach is not a poor place, lady," Wynne said softly. "My sisters are well-dowered and well-dressed, as befits the sisters of the lord of Gwernach."
"What fine pearls they wear," noted the lady Blodwen, peering intently at Caitlin's strand.
"My late son gifted his wife with a strand of pearls with each daughter she bore him," Enid replied. "I thought it appropriate that when their daughters wed, they each have one of those strands."
"Father Drew will wonder where we are," Wynne told them. "Let us go to the church so our families may be united at last." She stood graciously back, allowing their guests to go ahead, but Nesta hung back.
"Warn your sisters not to be intimidated by either of those two harpies," she said. "They covet the pearls, but if Caitlin and Dilys remain firm in their intent to keep them, those witches will eventually cease in their efforts to obtain them."
"You need not worry about Caitlin," Wynne replied. "The lady Blodwen will not get anything of hers no matter how hard she tries. In fact, I suspect that good lady's days at Coed are numbered. I can tell from what she has said that she thinks to have a daughter-in-law who will wait upon her hand and foot. She will quickly learn that Caitlin's sole concern is for herself. Dilys, however, is a different matter. I will see my brother makes certain that the lady Gladys does not impose upon poor Dilys. If he can manage to contain his dislike of her daughter Gwenda long enough for Dilys to work her way into her husband's affections, I think it will be all right. Away from Caitlin, Dilys is not quite so bad. She is not a quick girl, but she does have a sweetness about her."
"I think we are far more fortunate in our mates," Nesta said, and Enid smiled to herself, overhearing.
As much as Enid liked Madoc, she also liked his sister, who appeared to be the same sensible sort of girl that Wynne was. Nesta even had Rhys eating out of her hand, something Enid had never thought to see. She smoothed the fabric of her tunic dress, pleased with the richness of the indigo blue silk brocade which was shot through with silver threads. Aye, Rhys had turned from a lion to a lamb before their very eyes, and Nesta of Powys was entirely responsible. If that wasn't magic, she'd like to know what was.
Enid breathed deep of the warm late summer air, feeling a deep contentment envelop her as she did. If six months ago you had told her that everything at Gwernach would be so good by autumn, she would have considered the teller mad. She looked to the hillside where her son was buried. Ahh, Owain! she thought. The fates have dealt kindly with us indeed. Caitlin and Dilys are marrying well today and will be gone from here. Wynne's betrothed husband has come for her and will protect Dewi's rights. We need not fear his motives as we might have feared others. I believe we are safe, though I should not have thought it so without you, my son. If only Wynne were happier about her own impending marriage, but ahh, 'tis just maidenly concerns. Some have them and others do not. It will be well. I know it will be well.