"I awoke and you were gone," he called, waving.
She walked toward him. " 'Tis May morn," she said, not needing to offer any further explanation.
Reaching her, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her. "I missed you, sweeting," he said.
"Did you think I had run away, Eadwine?" she half teased him.
"You would not leave Arvel behind," he replied bluntly. "You are a good mother, Wynne. We should have more children."
She stiffened in his embrace, knowing what was about to come.
"Your healing period is over," he continued, "and I ache for you. I will wait no more!" His hand gently massaged her back in an attempt to relax her. "You are my wife, Wynne. I have said it before my sons, my family, my servants, and my serfs. None have denied you your rightful place at Aelfdene. Not even Caddaric. Now it is time for you to be my wife in the fullest sense."
There was no escape, she thought, her emotions mixed and confused. Looking up at him, she said, "Of course, my lord, it is your right. You are good to me, and I will deny you nothing." What else could she do?
"You deny me your heart," he said wisely, his blue eyes said.
Wynne nodded. "Aye, I do, Eadwine, but perhaps it will not always be that way. I must have time. You have given me everything but that. Mayhap I will never love you, I do not know, but I will care for you, and I will respect you."
"I want a child by you, Wynne," he told her.
"If God will it, my lord," she answered quietly.
"But in your heart you hope he will not, for then you would have to release your hold on your memories," Eadwine said half angrily.
"I will never forget what has been, Eadwine Aethelhard, and you do not have the right to ask that I do. Arvel is part of those memories. Would you have me deny him and his father, that your conscience be clear? You could return me to Powys and to Madoc if you chose to do so, but you do not. Yet you know I speak the truth of my past life, for all your denial to the contrary.
" Mercia and Powys are allies. My king's wife is Earl Aelfgar's daughter. You would not suffer in any way should you return me and my son to our own people, but you will not. You recognize my small status by your actions, my lord. You have honored me by declaring to all that I am your wife, but I wonder if the Church would agree and marry us within their sacred precincts.
"You but desire a child to bind me further," Wynne said shrewdly. "What if Madoc comes after I have had that child you so desperately want? What if he comes before, and I am heavy with that babe? I will be torn apart by the two of you, and it is not fair! God, I wish I were back at Gwernach and an innocent girl once again!" She angrily pulled out of his embrace and, pushing past him, fled toward the manor house.
Eadwine Aethelhard watched her go, sadness and frustration overwhelming him. She was right. It wasn't fair, but the chances of Madoc of Powys ever finding her were slim. There was too much distance between their lands. He had purchased her honorably. Even if every word she had told him since her arrival at Aelfdene was the truth, he was not legally bound to return her to Powys. He loved her, and to do so would break his heart. Wynne was his wife now. He was not yet forty-four. She made him feel like a young man. A young man with a fertile young wife. There would be children! He was dissatisfied with his two sons. He wanted other children for Aelfdene, and he would have them!
Chapter 14
There was no trace of Wynne of Gwernach in England, or so those sent out to seek her reluctantly reported to their lord, the prince of Powys-Wenwynwyn.
"She's in England," Madoc said stubbornly. "I know it!"
" England is a large land, my lord," Einion replied. "Our people have traveled the entire countryside along the border, following the exact route of the Irish slaver, Ruari Ban, as his passing is always noted by those who live there, for he is unlike most slavers, being a kind and merry soul. He sold no slaves until he came to Worcester. In Worcester there are many to attest to his coming. It is said of him that his merchandise is always good, his slaves healthy and obedient. Ruari Ban is always welcomed in Worcester."
"And no one remembers a woman of my wife's description among his slaves?" Madoc was beginning to look distraught.
"No, my lord, no one remembers a lady to match my lady's description," Einion answered, "but that does not mean she was not amongst Ruari Ban's slaves. He may have kept her hidden because he felt he could obtain a higher price in a larger town. Such practice is common among slavers with an eye to a good profit. Ruari Ban may be a decent fellow, but 'tis said of him that he strikes a hard bargain. Or he may have sold her privately along his route, as we had previously discussed. There would be nothing unusual in his doing that. It may be harder to trace her under those circumstances."
"Why have we not found her?!" Madoc cried angrily.
Einion cast his lord a look of pity which he masked lest he offend Madoc. "My lord, it will take time. Each Saxon man who can amass for himself five hides of land upon which he builds a fortified house, a chapel, a bakehouse and a little bell tower with a bell, is elevated to the rank of thegn. In some parts of England a hide is equal to one hundred and twenty acres, but in others 'tis only forty acres. There are many thegns now, my lord. Any of them with enough silver could have possession of my lady Wynne."
"And our child!" Madoc burst forth. "My child has surely been born by now, and I know not if I have a son or a daughter. I know not if my wife has survived the rigors of childbirth or if the child was stillborn from the shock of their abduction! I am Madoc of Powys! A prince of the great family of Wenwynwyn, but for all my magic I cannot find my wife or my child! What good are these powers I possess if they cannot return to me that which I treasure the most in this life?"
"All is not lost, my lord," Einion told Madoc. "You must have patience. Your destiny will not play itself out any quicker for your impatience."
Madoc stared at the big man, and then he laughed. "Einion, Einion! How is it you are so wise? I am a man used to having what he wants when he wants it, for I am the prince of Powys-Wenwynwyn; but in this instance I seem to be no better off than a common peasant laboring in my fields."
"Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned here, my lord," Einion said, smiling back at the prince.
"Perhaps," Madoc agreed thoughtfully.
"We will continue our search, my lord," Einion said.
"Send more men out," Madoc told him.
"I would not advise it, my lord, lest anyone become unduly suspicious of our activities," Einion replied. "Although King Gruffydd's wife is English, the Saxons are not really our friends. England is not a stable place at this moment. Edward may be king, but Earl Harold has gobbled up most of the land, if not for himself, then for his equally greedy brothers. Only Mercia remains out of his grasp, although he has bitten off that chunk of it called Herefordshire. His only bishop, Ealdred of Worcester, has been consecrated Archbishop of York; although that wily cleric is being forced to give up his bishopric in Worcester to Wolfstan, Ealdred still remains the lord of Oswaldstow. He is the most important landholder in southwest Mercia, and he is Earl Harold's man, having given his sacred oath."
"Bishop Wulfstan is also," Madoc answered, "though his first loyalty is to his God, but you are right, my good Einion. Harold Godwinson has no love for the Welsh, and King Gruf-fydd in particular. Should he learn that Gruffydd's cousin is a slave prisoner in England, Wynne and our child could be in even greater danger. We must proceed with caution, as hard as that is for us all. If I am eager to find my wife and bring her home, then too must Wynne be as eager to come home." He thought a moment and then said, "Has the slaver's route been traced past Worcester yet, Einion?"