As Ranulf ordered his horse saddled and provisions prepared, he told himself that it did not matter if Gwenllian herself was discovered. The moment Edward learned of the Welsh plans, Morency would be lost. His lands and possessions, that he had given his immortal soul to have, forfeit to the king. Because of her.

He rode at a dangerous speed to Sir Gerald’s manor, where Davydd had been sent to serve, and fumed as he waited for the boy to be brought to him. Well may she risk Ruardean in her schemes, and her own life. Well may she humiliate him by leaving with no word of return. But not for anything would he let her destroy Morency.

He frowned at the eagerness on Davydd’s face. The boy made his bow and looked at him expectantly.

Ranulf looked back in a sudden benign suspicion. “Why did you not go with Lady Gwenllian, when she left?”

Davydd looked up at him, startled.

“She rode west, my lord,” Davydd said insistently, as he had once before. “Is a fair large place, Wales. None can act as guide so well as I might, for my lord.”

The fool boy looked at him, satisfied that he had known they would journey to find her. Weeks he had waited, sure that this day would come. Ranulf decided it was better not to tell him that instead of a mission of gallantry, it was a desire to throttle his wife that drove him to act.

“Do you have a mount, prepare yourself to leave even now. I’ll ask Sir Gerald to grant you leave to come with me, but we do not tell him we ride to Wales. Nor do we tell anyone where we go, boy, in these perilous times.”

CHAPTER 19

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“He cannot have your trust.”

Gwenllian sat and stared at the basket of fresh apples brought by their latest visitor. They were lovely fruits, perfect for eating. Yet even had they not reminded her of the orchard at Morency, and a long discussion with Hugh Wisbech concerning the need for cider, and how she had never finished her letter to Suzanna – even if none of that came to mind, still she would not be tempted by them.

Her mother looked at her, the lines between her brows etched deeper than ever. She was obviously thinking of the best words to tell Gwenllian something she would not like to hear. Eluned did this now, this careful consideration of her words before speaking to her daughter. She had never seemed to do so before that day in the orchard. For her part, Gwenllian was anxious to keep peace only because she was too tired to fight. And when she was not exhausted, she feared bringing on a headache.