"Ohhh," Wynne said as the warm water touched her skin. "That's wonderful! Thank you, Megan, for being so thoughtful."
"You will find a stool to sit upon, my lady, and while you enjoy the water I will take your clothing to the laundress."
Only when she had hurried out did Wynne realize that for the first time in days she was totally and completely alone. It was quite a lovely feeling. She glanced about the room. A bathing room. It was a most novel and yet practical idea. The tub obviously remained in it all the time and did not have to be put out of sight in some cabinet. Where did the water come from? Wynne wondered. Then as she looked about her, her eye fell upon what she had at first thought to be a stone sink. It was not, however, for about it hung a bucket. This bathing room had its own well for water! The idea was simple and yet so obvious. And, of course, the water was heated in the large fireplace that took up almost an entire wall of the room, for there was a large cauldron hanging to one side away from the flame now. And the fireplace heated the bathing room as well! There was even a window through which she could see those wonderful mountains. It was all most marvelous!
The gardens. A bathing room. The mountains. It wasn't going to be very difficult to be happy here at Raven's Rock. It was, of course, much larger than the manor house at Gwernach had been. She hadn't seen the cook house yet, or the bakery, or met any of the servants, but there was plenty of time for that. It amazed her that the castle was in such good order, considering that Madoc's mother had been dead for several years. Nesta must be an excellent chatelaine, and she had but three months to learn from her all she needed to know about the domestic arrangements if she were to do as well.
Wynne's thoughts came to a screeching halt. What on earth was she thinking? She didn't want to marry, yet here she was considering all she would need to know regarding the concerns of Madoc's home. She was in a trap, and the trap was slowly closing about her. She was being wooed by Madoc's charm and patience, and now by his wonderful castle. It wasn't fair. Everything was conspiring against her, and yet… She stemmed the tide of her anger. She must be coolly logical about this situation in which she found herself. What exactly was wrong with it? Why had she been so determined all her life not to marry?
She reviewed the facts in her mind. Her father had betrothed her to Madoc. She was to be free to refuse the marriage if she chose. Madoc had agreed to it. Her father would not have made the match if Madoc were not a good man. Owain ap Llywelyn was not a man to be swayed by wealth and prestige. Madoc was attractive, albeit in a mysterious way. He was kind, thoughtful, and patient. He said he was in love with her and that he wanted her to love him. He offered her a life of comfort and happiness. Logically, she could find nothing wrong with any of this.
Even she, in her sheltered life at Gwernach, had heard of a woman for whom a man's touch was unpleasant. Such was not the case with her. Indeed, she found Madoc's kisses most delightful; and she was quite curious to learn more of passion between a man and a woman. They were long past the time when the Celtic tribes roamed the earth and her people considered physical love between men and women a natural thing to be enjoyed with whomever and whenever the spirit moved one. In these times people were not quite as enthusiastic or open with one another; but passion was not an emotion of which Wynne was afraid. Certainly a woman was free to enjoy the physical aspects of love with her betrothed husband.
A time long past. The words slid unbidden into her consciousness. The ancient Celts had believed in reincarnation. It was not a teaching of the Church, and yet Wynne had often wondered why the Church did not teach it. There was nothing in reincarnation, as the Celts had believed it, that was at odds with Christ's teachings. Reincarnation. It was not talked about a great deal, and yet many still believed. Did she? Was that the reason behind her unexplained antipathy to marriage? And if it was, why?
Had Wynne of Gwernach and Madoc of Powys known each other in another time and another place? And if they had, what had happened that she was so opposed to marriage? She was certainly not opposed to Madoc. Indeed, she was increasingly attracted to him, but it did not seem to be enough. What unfinished business lay between them? Or was she being a fool? Was her aversion to marriage actually fear of the unknown, and was she placing greater importance upon it than it deserved? She determined to put it all, her worries, her curiosity, from her mind. She would concentrate upon accepting her marriage instead of struggling so futilely against what was in reality a most pleasant fate.
The door to the bathing room opened and Megan hurried in, chattering as she came. "I apologize, my lady, for taking so long a time with the laundress." She picked up soap and a cloth and began to wash her new mistress. "Well, actually it wasn't the laundress that kept me. It was that big handsome fellow with the game leg who is your servant. Insisted upon knowing precisely where you were. He's most protective of you."
Wynne laughed. " 'Tis his task, Megan, to watch over me. He has ever since I was a baby. My brother sent him with me to Raven's Rock; but you'd best beware of Einion. He's a merry rascal who loves a pretty wench. All pretty wenches for that matter."
"Oh, I could see he has a roving eye," Megan said, her brown eyes twinkling, "but I've a roving eye myself. Now, let's get that beautiful hair of yours washed, my lady. It is filled with the dust of the road!"
Einion, Wynne thought as Megan washed her long hair, had possibly met his match. It would not be a bad thing, for as Einion was to remain at Raven's Rock for the remainder of his days, it was probably time for him to find a wife and settle down. Wynne smiled to herself, wondering what her beloved protector would think of her thoughts, and knowing, even as she began to chuckle over it.
Chapter 5
Her intellect had decided one thing. The voice within disagreed; but Wynne would not listen. She thrust her instinct as far away from her conscious mind as she could and concentrated upon resigning herself to a life at Raven's Rock as Madoc's wife. She began that first night, entering the hall garbed in a beautiful tunic dress of violet silk brocade embroidered with silver flowers. Going directly to Madoc, she had knelt before him, publicly subjugating herself to her lord's will.
The prince, more attuned to Wynne than she could have imagined, quickly raised her up and presented her to his assembled retainers and servants. "I submit to you Wynne of Gwernach, the future princess of Powys. Those of you within her domain will do her bidding without question, and all will render their respect," Madoc said in a strong voice.
"Wynne! Wynne! Wynne!" came the cry from a hundred throats as she looked out, smiling over the hall.
"You will never kneel to me again, dearling," he told her. "As my wife you are my female equal, my other half." Then he put a goblet of wine in her hand, kissing it as he did so.
They sat at the high board and Wynne said, "There are so many men, my lord. Are there no women here at Raven's Rock but Nesta and the servants?"
"None," he replied. "My mother had no liking for strangers. As she and Nesta were content, I was content. If it displeases you, however, you may invite the daughters of other houses to keep you company."
"When Nesta goes to St. Bride's I shall be alone, my lord. Perhaps my brother will allow my little sister, Mair, to come to us."
"Your grandmother will be lonely without Mair. I can see she quite dotes upon the child," Madoc remarked.