She was correct there. He didn’t really give a damn about Genith’s pleasure. Furthermore, the fact that the bard was still unpunished was no credit to either his strength as a lord or his duty to his king. He did not want songs in the hall reminding him of his weakness.

“It would also please me to have Dylan sing.” Nesta looked up again, and favored him with a mesmerizing smile.

A brushfire of desire swept him in reaction to that smile. The corner of his sense that did not succumb, however, sharpened with suspicion. She was toying with him, despite surely knowing that he barely resisted grabbing her. Considering their isolation in this garden, she must have a good reason to dare it.

“If it will please both you and Genith, I can hardly refuse.” He made a retreat before she had him forgetting his duty entirely and behaving like a fool. Or a madman.

Two days later, Nesta broke her fast quickly and hurried outside. Carts and wagons filled the yard. Every morning farmers brought in provisions to feed the large household and to trade among themselves, and she had formed a habit of frequently joining them.

She circled around, stopping to chat with the Welsh men and women who were regular participants of these morning markets. It had not taken her long to determine who might be an ally. In ten days she had learned much about the sentiments of the people, and who was complacent with England’s yoke, and who was not. Those who disapproved of Genith’s marriage had let it be known in subtle ways.

One of them, a burly, swarthy farmer named Iolo with whom she had become very friendly, was here today. She worked her way to the wall where he waited with his wagon. When she finally reached him she made a display of inspecting his chickens while she spoke.

“The designs are on their way?”

“Aye, my brother will seek out the man in Bala as you instructed, to sell his. The other went north with a wine merchant.” He pressed two coins into her hand. “A pity you should see the least profit of anyone.”

“With so many sales between me and the tapestry weavers, it is always thus.”

Nesta stepped closer while she poked a fowl. “You will come again tomorrow morning, as promised?”

“I’ll be here, my lady. Over by the keep, with meat and hides from my brother’s farm.”

Nesta returned to the hall, and sought out Marcus. He was sitting with his man, Paul. She stood by the table until he turned his attention to her.

“My sister says that although the town is small, one can find wares from all over there, even from Flanders and Castile.”

“Many merchants who come to Wales travel north through these parts and stop there.”