Honour Bright

Honour scooped the loose coins she found on the floor into her apron. Not hard to find when the sailors and pirates were deep in their cups. Even more careless when they waved their sovereigns around, freely spending to impress a young tavern wench. "I'd say you were done for the night, Honour." She turned to Amos. "We've been busy. It's been a long day---and night." "Always is when a ship or two ports. Especially if they had a successful run. By the way....I heard some commotion coming from your room. Any ideas what the pounding may have been?" Quickly she said, "It may have been the casement window banging open. I think I forgot to latch it and there has been a breeze." She opened the door to her room. There was the source of the pounding. Three holes had been punched in her wall. And the bedclothes were missing. She couldn't help but smile at the image that came to her mind. 'Looks like someone got up on the wrong side of bed this morning.' She rubbed her arm where a bruise was turning black and blue. Jonas had grabbed her roughly when they made it back to her room. No tenderness. No gentleness. Jonas had treated her like a common trollop. 'Serves you right,' she thought. 'Next time maybe you won't take advantage of someone's loneliness.' The moonlight shone through the casement window. She opened it up to let in the sea breeze, inhaling the salt air. The restless feeling let her know that sleep would elude her. Slipping on her boots, she grabbed her new cloak. Over in the corner to one side was her sword. She smiled wistfully as she recalled the day she had purchased it. As she picked it up, something didn't seem quite right to her. I wish I could tell what it is, she thought. She slipped her favorite bodice dagger into its proper place, along with her rapier and went down the back door. As she walked down the lane, a voice slurred, "Miz Honour--thank 'ee kindly fer the new duds!" She looked up and there was Gibson standing with a flask of rum. "Hello, Gibson. I must say you look dashing. I love that hat on you." Gibson handed her the flask. " 'ere, Miss, take a sip!" She tried to appear gracious. "No, thank you, Gibson. I've had plenty tonight but thank you just the same." The wind had picked up, whipping her hair around her face. Should have bound it up, she thought. Ah well, it feels good. As she walked down to the harbor, she stood on the dock and surveyed the ships that were in port. Let's see...there's Poseidon's Revenge....Charles Elliot, I saw him earlier. The Black Rock. I thought I saw Blue flying around...The Lady Barbara. Nice! Samuel is back in port....The Ebony Blade ...oh dear, Captain Faraday is still here. I thought he'd be gone by now......The Golden Phoenix...Wait! The Golden Phoenix? Wasn't Captain Corwin supposed to be gone by now? She felt an arm around her neck. Cold steel against her throat. A rum-soaked voice said rasply, "You're going to pay for that." She knew the voice. Captain Jonas Corwin. And this time he was dressed.

February, 1654 Honour opened her eyes. Her head felt heavy, pounding with the aftereffects of liquor. Lots of liquor. She sat up too quickly and held her head in her hands. Looking over with bleary eyes, she saw the reason why. The handsome pirate from the night before. Bits and pieces of the night flashed through her memory. The rum. The gambling. The flirting. The late hour. And the loneliness. Always the loneliness. She slipped out of bed and looked at the pirate. Not just any pirate. A pirate captain. Captain Jonas Corwin of the Golden Phoenix. Handsome, sardonic. And a streak of cruelty. Just like Madoc Castlemaine. The sun was starting to rise. Ships were coming and going out of the harbour. Honour walked over to the casement window to look out over the port of St Lawrence. She laid her head against the window and felt her eyes fill with tears. 'What has happened to me?' But she knew the answer to that question. What happened to her was Captain Rhys Morgan. A sense of abandonment washed over her again. Only one man came remotely close to Rhys and he was also gone. Captain James Blake of the Dark Vexation. Two weeks was all he stayed with her. And in the light of day, it was painfully clear. He wasn't Rhys Morgan. None of them were. She knew she was looking for Rhys Morgan in every man she had made love with. Made love? Hardly. Her mind drifted back to a conversation two weeks previous. Amos called her over to sit at the table and share an ale with him after hours. "Honour, we need to have a serious talk." She took a deep drink of her ale. "You aren't going to fire me, are you?" "Far from it. You are a drawing card here. The day I hired you for the Varlet and Vixen was the day I took alot of business away from the Red Parrot. The men come here to see what you are going to do next. The way you handle yourself and the way you never let them get away with anything." "So I am light on my feet." Amos was visibly uncomfortable. He pulled at the collar of his shirt. "Yes...well...you know I love you like a daughter. And this is why it is so hard to talk to you about this." "Amos, you have never been one to hold back. Just tell me what is on your mind." He reached over and took her hand. "I know, lass, that you have had a hard time coming to grips with the fact that your betrothed died when that horse threw him. But losing yourself in every man that comes your way..." "I beg your pardon, Amos! I do not consort with every man who walks through that door." He shook his head. "Let me amend that statement. Let's say with every captain that comes through that door." "Again, you are wrong. Did I spend any time with the captain of the Ebony Heart? Or the Lelystad." "Honour, the captain of the Ebony Heart had a wooden leg and the captain of the Lelystad was Dutch." She crossed her arms. "So, see? I do have standards!" He sighed. "I just don't want to see you hurt. Some of these men..well, they aren't the nicest in the world." She touched his arm. "Amos, you worry too much. I can take care of myself." "Aye, I know that, lass. But I don't want to see you come down with...well, I don't want to see you with the pox or a báibín." "Amos, don't worry. Please. As I said, I can take care of myself." The resentment for each of these men welled up in her. Used. She felt used. She looked at Jonas Corwin again and then quickly rifled through his pockets, taking all the gold coin and currency. Honour opened up the casement window and glanced below. Yes, there he was. In the alley picking through the refuse as usual. Picking up Corwin's clothes and his cavalier hat, she yelled from the window, "Gibson! Head's up! Here's a new set of clothes for you!" And with one toss, Honour had donated to the poor. Honour hastily put on her clothes to go to work downstairs. From the bed, Jonas mumbled something in his sleep. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned to his sleeping form. "Good-bye, Jonas. I hope you had a good time. Because I didn't." She left him his boots. As she walked down the hall, she felt bad about what she had done. In a moment of remorse, she headed back to the room. She whispered, "'Tis a terrible thing I even thought of doing to you, darling...." She put his sword in the corner. "I would hate for you to be left defenseless." She closed the door and left Captain Jonas Corwin with his dreams. And with one satisfying thought. She finally got even with one of them.

December, 1653 "Honour? I'd like to speak to you in the back." Honour tucked her towel into her waistband and pushed her hair out of her face with the heel of her hand. 'It had better not be about that slime Payton.' Amos was sitting in his chair in his makeshift office where he kept his books and his supply of private rum. He lit a thin black cigar and leaned back, surveying her. She touched her nose. "Do I have something on my face?" He laughed and gestured for her to sit down. "Rum?" "Yes, please." He poured her a small tankard and she held it to her nose. "You keep the good stuff for yourself, don't you, Amos?" He smiled. "I'd be a fool not to." "Well, you didn't request my presence just to give me a drink. So what gives?" He chuckled. "I was just thinking how pretty you are and what a stroke of genius it was on my part to hire you. This is the first stop most shipmates make when they port in St Lawrence. 'Like the scenery' they always say." Honour felt herself blush. "I wouldn't say that..." "It's true, darling. You are a rare breed of brains, beauty and wit. And you have one other thing." "What's that?" "Class. You can't buy that. It is something you were born with." She laughed to herself, 'if only the great Lord Rhodri Conaway could see his little girl laying down whiskey for pirates!' She shrugged. "I just know what I want. And how to get it." He took a deep drag on his cigarette and blew a smoke ring. " Captain of the month club does not qualify." "I beg your pardon!" He leaned forward and folded his hands. "I worry about you, Honour. Someday you are going to run into the wrong man." She crossed her arms in front of her. "You didn't call me in here to give me a lecture on morality, Amos. Come on...out with it!" "No. No, I didn't. I have a proposition for you." She raised her eyebrow and tried to stifle a smile. Amos caught it. "Now, get that thought out of your head. I love you like a daughter, Honour. And me, Malcolm and Jared will always protect you. How would you like a bigger piece of the pie?" She waved her arm. "Bigger than this tavern on the docks? What are you offering me, a percentage on the soup you sell?" "Don't be cheeky. The owner was in here last week." "The owner? But...but...YOU are the owner!" He stubbed out his cigarette. "Only the tavern keeper, love. " "Who is he? Have I ever seen him?" He shook his head. "No, I don't think so. He stopped in here and you were on your way out." "But you didn't introduce me." "You had an armful of captain." She felt her face blush. "Oh. Captain Faraday. " "Yes, well, the owner saw you and wanted to meet you but he was only in port for a day and you seemed to be otherwise occupied." She bristled at that. "It was my day off and what I do on my day off is my business, Amos." "Aside from that, the owner wanted me to make you a deal. He wants to make you a dealer of cards. You ever play One-and-Thirty?" Honour shook her head no. "Object of the game is to deal cards as close to thirty-one as you can. The dealer goes around to each player, starting with eldest and ending with himself, and asks whether they want to 'stick' or 'have it'." She burst out laughing. "You actually want me to ask them THAT? The answer can be quite loaded, knowing this bawdy clientele, Amos." He ignored that. "If the player wishes to stick, the dealer goes to the next; if they will have it, they get another card. They may continue to get more cards until they decide to stick, or they go over thirty-one, in which case they are out. Lots of money to be made. Even more with Bone-Ace." She propped her arms up, folding her hands under her chin. "Sounds intriguing. What is it?" "Same thing as One-and Thirty but the ace of hearts is the Bone-Ace. All other players pay a single stake to the holder of the highest card. Beats all over cards." "And what do I get in this? Salary or percentage?" "Percentage. It will give you more...incentive, shall we say? To keep the stakes high." "How much percentage?" "Fifteen percent." "Twenty-five." "Twenty." She held her finger up. "And all the gold I can sweep up?" "Deal." "Deal!" She exclaimed. She trailed her finger around the rim of her tankard. "So tell me about this owner. Have I seen him?" Amos shook his head. "He doesn't get in very often. He has other.....interests that keep him occupied when he is in St Lawrence." "What kind of business?" "A cathouse." "How nice! I've been thinking of getting myself a kitten. Think he may sell me one?" "Honour, are you that naive, really? Let's just say it is the kind of business you and Faraday were most likely dallying in." "AMOS!" "Well, it's true. He owns at least one brothel. And he likes to go there to make sure his merchandise is in tiptop shape." Honour's face coloured. "So what is his name?" "Never mind his name. He prefers to be anonymous." "So why did he want me to deal cards here?" "Your looks. And he may have other plans for you. He liked the way you look." She tossed her hair. "I don't intend to spend time with a man like that." "Don't be so sure, Missy--he's a captain." "A captain?" "Yes. So that alone should fit the bill." She mused, "A captain......alright, Amos. Tell him I'm his." Amos raised his eyebrow. She shrugged. "I meant in an employment situation where my chemise stays on." Amos laughed. "I'll relay the message." Honour said mostly to herself, 'A captain....this could get interesting.'

July, 1653 Rhiannon ran back and forth between the tables. Once or twice she felt a pinch on her bum but as she turned around, the culprit must have been diverting his attention elsewhere. "Hey! Tavern wench! More rum!" She yelled back, "Hold your water, old man!" To which the pirates' table broke out in raucous laughter. She brushed her hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. Someone smacked her on the behind and she wheeled around, gently grabbing the offending pirate by the lapels of his frock coat and pulled him close to her. She sensuously licked her lips. "What's your name, pirate?" she breathed softly. "Peyton," he winked to his fellow pirates. Rhiannon sat on his lap. Peyton thought he was going to get lucky. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Peyton, darling--touch my arse once more and the dagger in my boot will be lodged in your chest. And believe me, it won't be Cupid shooting an arrow through your heart. Savvy?" Peyton turned red with embarrassment combined with fury. She stood up and gave him a wink for the benefit of his friends. "What? What did she say, Peyton?" "Yeah, you meeting the lass later?" "Don't hold out on us!" But Peyton, embarrassed, went back to his ale. Still, he couldn't take his eyes off the lass' assets. She looked over at the dissolute lot that frequented The Varlet and Vixen. Shaking her head, she sighed and murmured, 'I really need to find something else to do with my life.' Clearing off a table and pocketing any coins carelessly left behind, she arched her back to stretch. A nowhere job with nowhere people, all heading in the same direction. Nowhere. Amos yelled, "Honour! Those pirates at the table by the window be wanting more ale. So pick up these tankards and get your pretty self over there." She sighed and headed over with a tray. As she turned around to put the tankards down, one of them grabbed her around the waist and drunkenly said, " I've got a place fer ye to rest yer assets, darlin'...." She picked up a tankard and dumped the contents over his head, to the riotous laughter of his shipmates. Walking over to Amos, she said furiously, "If you don't want a killing on the premises, then I would suggest you let me have a break." Amos couldn't blame her. The afternoon crowd had been there since mid-morning and the later the afternoon, the drunker they became. "Sure, darlin' . Go for a walk around the block and cool off." She stood out back and looked towards the sea. 'If I can just find Captain Fox, maybe I can figure out what to do. I just can't believe that no one has heard of him. Maybe a few days down in Bridgetown will bring more results.' She sighed, tied her hair back and walked back into the den of thieves. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rhiannon had only been working four months when a handsome captain came into the tavern. She walked up to him as he sat down at the corner table, his back to the wall. "Something I can get for you?" she asked. He looked up at her with deep brown eyes and grinned. "An ale...to start out with." He constantly looked out the window. "Are you expecting company?" she asked. "Company?" he laughed. "You are new here, are you not?" She blushed and retorted, "Something amusing about that?" He shook his head and said, "No. I never heard it put quite that way. But yes, I am expecting company." "Shall I tell him you are here if and when I see this individual?" He looked at her and blinked. "Such high-class words for a tavern wench." She glared at him. "What makes you think a tavern wench has to speak in one-syllable words?" He laughed and said, "Point well-taken. I am waiting for a Captain Wolfe but I don't see him. His ship has not ported." She came back with his ale and he beckoned to her. "Not much business yet, and I'm in need of company." She opened her mouth to retort a reply and he held up his hand. "I am not taking you for a doxy. Just some intelligent conversation." She suddenly smiled and held out her hand to him. "My name is Honour Bright." He kissed her hand and said, "And I am Captain James Blake of the 'Dark Vexation', just ported this morning." "Where are you from, Captain Blake?" "Please, call me James. Ireland. Wicklow, to be precise. And you?" "Originally from Wales. A town near Beaumaris." "Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Bright...." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It lasted two weeks. She remembered their last night together. They had spent the night in her room above the tavern. He held her close and kissed her. "If you're ever back in Barbados...." she whispered. "Aye. I know..." Before the morning dawned, he was gone. She got up and wrapped the sheet around her. On the dresser was a package. Upon opening, she found a beautiful bolt of sky blue silk. She smiled softly as her fingers touched the fabric. And then her eyes inexplicably filled with tears. And the reason then dawned on her. James Blake was the first man she had been with since....since him. Tears traced down her face as she fought back the sobs. And one thing became clear to her. He was not Rhys Morgan. She walked over to her casement window and opened it. Through her tears, she saw the sails of the Dark Vexation almost out of the harbour. 'Goodbye, James,' she whispered. Rhiannon went back to bed and hugged her pillow, her tears wetting the case. She cried until there were no more tears. 'Would it always be this way?' she wondered. She felt disloyal to Rhys' memory. Ashamed that she let another man take his place, even temporarily. It wasn't James' fault. It was just the way it was. She washed her face and looked in the mirror. 'At least he was a captain...' And at that moment, she didn't feel ashamed anymore. She just felt...nothing. For no one. Not even herself. 'Love,' she thought. 'Love is just an excuse for...' She didn't need an excuse anymore. It would be captains or nothing. And she wasn't going to settle for 'nothing'

St Lawrence, Barbados--March, 1653 Rhiannon hauled her duffel bag up to the tavern. "I'd like a room, please." The tavern owner sized her up. "For just yourself?" "Yes." "Just passing through?" She shrugged. "I don't know yet. I am looking for someone." "This someone have a name?" "Captain Fox." "Hadn't heard of him. What ship?" She frowned. "I don't know." "Well, that is gonna make it more difficult." "Then I will have to try that much harder to look for him, won't I?" He turned his journal around. "Sign here." She hesitated and then took pen in hand and wrote. He turned it around and said, "Honour Bright. Unusual name." "My mother said it was an oath of fidelity. To be true to oneself, she always said." "Uh huh. Well, your room is the second one on the right." "Thank you." As she climbed the stairs, she asked, "Any other ports here in Barbados?" "Bridgetown." "I'll start here." Rhiannon opened the door and her room consisted of a small bed and a chest of drawers. She opened the window, her nose wrinkling to the smells in the alley. Quickly she shut it. The voyage had taken three months. Captain Weston was very solicitous. As a personal favor to his cousin, Father Simon and seeing as he was a God-fearing man, he made sure no harm had come to her. He made sure she dined in his cabin and the crew left her alone. Not a bad idea that Captain Weston told them that she was his niece. That made her off limits. Three months had given her plenty of time to grieve over Rhys. And every time it was like a fresh wound. She would spend her hours staring out at the sea, praying that Rhys would forgive her for running out like she did. But what more could she have done? Madoc's sons would see that she would be brought to justice and she couldn't take the chance that they wouldn't dig deep in their pockets to see the justice would go the way they wanted. After all, Judas Iscariot got what he wanted. For a price. She drew the sheets back and laid down. Before she knew it, she was sound asleep in a bed that finally wasn't rocking. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Excuse me...I'm looking for a Captain Fox that ports in Barbados. Have you seen him?" "What is the name of his ship?" "I don't know." "I'm sorry. Don't know any Captain Fox." She walked outside, despair on her face. Tavern after tavern, it was the same story. "No--ship's name?" "I'm sorry. Never heard of him." "Nope, little lady. But will I do?" She looked up at the sign. The Varlet and Vixen. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. A tavern keeper with a kindly face was polishing glasses. "Can I help you, Miss?" She nodded. "An ale, please." He poured her a tankard and set it in front of her. "I'm looking for someone. A Captain Fox. Does he port here?" He shook his head. "Not that I know of." She sighed and drank her ale. A few minutes later, a scurvy man sidled up next to her. "You looking for Fox?" She turned to him and her face lit up. "You know him?" "Aye. He just ported this morning. Down at the dock right now. Fer a few shillings, I take ye to 'im." She dug into her purse and gave it to him. "You sure he isn't in a tavern? After all, it's getting dark." "He's at the docks like I said. Takin' care o' is crew." She looked over and the tavern keeper was nowhere in sight. She sighed. "Alright." They left the tavern. "Down this alley. It's a shortcut to the dock." She followed him around the back of the tavern. "Are you sure?" Suddenly she was thrown against the bricks and the dissolute pirate was pressing her body into the bricks, his hands roaming all over her and tugging at her skirt and chemise. She tried to scream but he covered his mouth with hers. "WHAT THE HELL?" The tavern keeper was in the alley dumping his trash. He threw it down and grabbed a huge club. The pirate turned around and ducked just as the cudgel swung and barely missed his head. He scrambled to his feet and ran off. Rhiannon slumped against the bricks, too shocked to cry out. "Here now, Missy. Whatever possessed you to go in the alley with that scum?" "He--he said he knew Captain Fox and would lead me to him." Suddenly the enormity of what almost happened overcame her and she broke down in sobs. Her face to the bricks, she covered her face with her arm, her body wracked. "Alright, young miss. You come with me." He led her to the back room of the tavern and sat her down in a chair. "Jared can take care of the tavern for a minute. Here's a warm wet cloth." He wiped the tears off her face but they kept flowing. "What you need is a hot meal. When was the last time you had one?" Rhiannon shrugged. "I guess maybe a few days ago." He looked at her sternly. "A few months is more like it. Look at you. Your clothes are hanging on you. You stay right here." The tavern keep disappeared for a minute and came back with a bowl of stew and some brown bread. "Made it myself and it's got meat in it to build you up. Now you eat and don't get out of that chair until every last drop is mopped up with that bread. And milk. Girl like you needs milk. Not ale." He came back with a fresh glass. Hungrily Rhiannon devoured the meal. The tavern keeper turned his chair around and faced her. Sternly, he said, "You can't keep looking in tavern after tavern asking for a captain, Missy. It's only going to land you in hot water. What if I hadn't been there to save you? These men have no qualms about using a woman and then maybe even killing them when they are finished." Rhiannon's eyes grew wide. He continued, "Yes, well, I can see that never crossed your mind. So why are you looking for this Captain Fox?" She took a deep breath. "I was told by an old friend if I was ever in trouble, this captain would help me. Now I need his help." "And what help would that be?" She didn't answer. "Yes, well, I figure we all have our secrets. So where are you staying?" "Over at The King's Falcon." He snorted. "A dump." "You have a better idea?" He looked at her thoughtfully. "Aye. I do. I happen to have a room upstairs. It was the tavern wench's that ran off with a sailor last week. Left me shorthanded. You interested in a deal?" "What sort of deal?" "I run a clean establishment. Nothing fancy but the food is good and the ale is cold. The rum isn't the best but it's not rotgut. If you are willing to help me out, I'll let you stay in that room. Mine is down the hall, Jared's is next to you. I promise you no harm will come to you. They would have to get through the both of us to get to you. In exchange, you can help lay spirits down. The men will leave you alone. Between Jared and Malcolm, we got you protected. The pay will be what you can wheedle out of these old salts. And I am willing to wager you will do fine. So how does that sound?" She looked around. The place was clean and lively. And it would afford her more time to find Captain Fox. "And I can have whatever coins I sweep up off the floor?" He broke out in laughter. "You drive a hard bargain, Missy. Sure as I am sitting here, what you can glean is also yours." She extended her hand. "Honour Bright, tavern wench at your service." He took her hand and instead of shaking it, he kissed it. "Amos O'Reilly at your service, Miss Bright." She smiled and asked, "When can I start?" "How soon can you get your things?" "If you lend me Jared, I can be back in an hour." "Well, welcome to The Varlet and Vixen, Miss Bright!"

St Lawrence, Barbados--March, 1653 Rhiannon hauled her duffel bag up to the tavern. "I'd like a room, please." The tavern owner sized her up. "For just yourself?" "Yes." "Just passing through?" She shrugged. "I don't know yet. I am looking for someone." "This someone have a name?" "Captain Fox." "Hadn't heard of him. What ship?" She frowned. "I don't know." "Well, that is gonna make it more difficult." "Then I will have to try that much harder to look for him, won't I?" He turned his journal around. "Sign here." She hesitated and then took pen in hand and wrote. He turned it around and said, "Honour Bright. Unusual name." "My mother said it was an oath of fidelity. To be true to oneself, she always said." "Uh huh. Well, your room is the second one on the right." "Thank you." As she climbed the stairs, she asked, "Any other ports here in Barbados?" "Bridgetown." "I'll start here." Rhiannon opened the door and her room consisted of a small bed and a chest of drawers. She opened the window, her nose wrinkling to the smells in the alley. Quickly she shut it. The voyage had taken three months. Captain Weston was very solicitous. As a personal favor to his cousin, Father Simon and seeing as he was a God-fearing man, he made sure no harm had come to her. He made sure she dined in his cabin and the crew left her alone. Not a bad idea that Captain Weston told them that she was his niece. That made her off limits. Three months had given her plenty of time to grieve over Rhys. And every time it was like a fresh wound. She would spend her hours staring out at the sea, praying that Rhys would forgive her for running out like she did. But what more could she have done? Madoc's sons would see that she would be brought to justice and she couldn't take the chance that they wouldn't dig deep in their pockets to see the justice would go the way they wanted. After all, Judas Iscariot got what he wanted. For a price. She drew the sheets back and laid down. Before she knew it, she was sound asleep in a bed that finally wasn't rocking. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Excuse me...I'm looking for a Captain Fox that ports in Barbados. Have you seen him?" "What is the name of his ship?" "I don't know." "I'm sorry. Don't know any Captain Fox." She walked outside, despair on her face. Tavern after tavern, it was the same story. "No--ship's name?" "I'm sorry. Never heard of him." "Nope, little lady. But will I do?" She looked up at the sign. The Varlet and Vixen. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. A tavern keeper with a kindly face was polishing glasses. "Can I help you, Miss?" She nodded. "An ale, please." He poured her a tankard and set it in front of her. "I'm looking for someone. A Captain Fox. Does he port here?" He shook his head. "Not that I know of." She sighed and drank her ale. A few minutes later, a scurvy man sidled up next to her. "You looking for Fox?" She turned to him and her face lit up. "You know him?" "Aye. He just ported this morning. Down at the dock right now. Fer a few shillings, I take ye to 'im." She dug into her purse and gave it to him. "You sure he isn't in a tavern? After all, it's getting dark." "He's at the docks like I said. Takin' care o' is crew." She looked over and the tavern keeper was nowhere in sight. She sighed. "Alright." They left the tavern. "Down this alley. It's a shortcut to the dock." She followed him around the back of the tavern. "Are you sure?" Suddenly she was thrown against the bricks and the dissolute pirate was pressing her body into the bricks, his hands roaming all over her and tugging at her skirt and chemise. She tried to scream but he covered his mouth with hers. "WHAT THE HELL?" The tavern keeper was in the alley dumping his trash. He threw it down and grabbed a huge club. The pirate turned around and ducked just as the cudgel swung and barely missed his head. He scrambled to his feet and ran off. Rhiannon slumped against the bricks, too shocked to cry out. "Here now, Missy. Whatever possessed you to go in the alley with that scum?" "He--he said he knew Captain Fox and would lead me to him." Suddenly the enormity of what almost happened overcame her and she broke down in sobs. Her face to the bricks, she covered her face with her arm, her body wracked. "Alright, young miss. You come with me." He led her to the back room of the tavern and sat her down in a chair. "Jared can take care of the tavern for a minute. Here's a warm wet cloth." He wiped the tears off her face but they kept flowing. "What you need is a hot meal. When was the last time you had one?" Rhiannon shrugged. "I guess maybe a few days ago." He looked at her sternly. "A few months is more like it. Look at you. Your clothes are hanging on you. You stay right here." The tavern keep disappeared for a minute and came back with a bowl of stew and some brown bread. "Made it myself and it's got meat in it to build you up. Now you eat and don't get out of that chair until every last drop is mopped up with that bread. And milk. Girl like you needs milk. Not ale." He came back with a fresh glass. Hungrily Rhiannon devoured the meal. The tavern keeper turned his chair around and faced her. Sternly, he said, "You can't keep looking in tavern after tavern asking for a captain, Missy. It's only going to land you in hot water. What if I hadn't been there to save you? These men have no qualms about using a woman and then maybe even killing them when they are finished." Rhiannon's eyes grew wide. He continued, "Yes, well, I can see that never crossed your mind. So why are you looking for this Captain Fox?" She took a deep breath. "I was told by an old friend if I was ever in trouble, this captain would help me. Now I need his help." "And what help would that be?" She didn't answer. "Yes, well, I figure we all have our secrets. So where are you staying?" "Over at The King's Falcon." He snorted. "A dump." "You have a better idea?" He looked at her thoughtfully. "Aye. I do. I happen to have a room upstairs. It was the tavern wench's that ran off with a sailor last week. Left me shorthanded. You interested in a deal?" "What sort of deal?" "I run a clean establishment. Nothing fancy but the food is good and the ale is cold. The rum isn't the best but it's not rotgut. If you are willing to help me out, I'll let you stay in that room. Mine is down the hall, Jared's is next to you. I promise you no harm will come to you. They would have to get through the both of us to get to you. In exchange, you can help lay spirits down. The men will leave you alone. Between Jared and Malcolm, we got you protected. The pay will be what you can wheedle out of these old salts. And I am willing to wager you will do fine. So how does that sound?" She looked around. The place was clean and lively. And it would afford her more time to find Captain Fox. "And I can have whatever coins I sweep up off the floor?" He broke out in laughter. "You drive a hard bargain, Missy. Sure as I am sitting here, what you can glean is also yours." She extended her hand. "Honour Bright, tavern wench at your service." He took her hand and instead of shaking it, he kissed it. "Amos O'Reilly at your service, Miss Bright." She smiled and asked, "When can I start?" "How soon can you get your things?" "If you lend me Jared, I can be back in an hour." "Well, welcome to The Varlet and Vixen, Miss Bright!"

Father Simon was baking bread when Rhiannon and Muir came down from the loft. He smiled up at her. "Would you like a few slices of sunflower seed bread? It was made fresh yesterday. And the butter is freshly churned." She gave him a radiant smile in return. "I can't think of anything better, Father." She dropped a few pieces of salt pork to Muir as she spread the butter on her bread. Father Simon continued to knead the bread as he asked her, "And have you decided on any plans, young Rhiannon?" "Yes, I have. Rhys and I had talked about leaving Wales for a place called Barbados. It's in the Caribbean." He nodded slowly, "Yes, I know. And that is where you intend to go?" She took a bite and chewed slowly. "Yes. I think Rhys would have....." Her voice trailed off. Tears welled up in her eyes and a look of sadness like Father Simon had never seen crossed her delicate features. Her eyes misted to a place far away, along with her thoughts. And her heart. "And what do you intend to do with that fine steed?" She said, "He was the convent's horse. I took him because I refused to have Mother Superior arrange for me to go home in a carriage. With all the money my father donated to keep me there, I feel the horse belongs to me. When I married, my sister Dilys arranged with the groom to have him stabled there. My father really took no note that Taliesin was there and Madoc was pleased to have such a fine piece of horseflesh in his stables. But I cannot take him with me, Father. So I would like to give him to you. As a thank you for a confession well done." "It's very generous of you, Rhiannon. But he's too fine a gift. Why not sell him?" "Sell Taliesin to whom? I will not have him passed to strangers. And you would be kind and not work him. And then there is the factor of time." "And what of your dog?" She raised her head defiantly. "Muir has been with me since I was six years old. Where I go, he goes." Father Simon laughed. "A deal, then. But I also have something for you." He walked over to the mantle and opened a box of rosewood. In a soft cloth, he withdrew a dagger. It was mother of pearl, inlaid with a ruby on the hilt. He sat down and pressed it into her hand. "Take it. From me to you." "Father, I can't..." "Yes, you can. Let it be a lesson to you, Rhiannon." He opened her palm and pointed to the ruby. "This represents the blood that has been spilled in the name of lust. But it is tempered with the pearl, the purity of white which represents the forgiveness of your sins. Never forget, Rhiannon, that which was shed. But what has now been absolved. Besides, I have blessed it and you may need it someday." She took the dagger and slipped it into her bodice. Father Simon pretended not to notice where she kept it. He said briskly, "And when did you intend to leave for Barbados?" "As soon as I can book passage. Preferably today." "But there may be no ships leaving for a few days." She shrugged, "Then I shall wait till one does. I can procure a room for a few days." "Are you sure? You are more than welcome to stay here until that time." Rhiannon shook her head no. "It would be better that I leave. I shall miss Taliesin dearly but I know he will be in good hands. Will you take me to the harbor?" "If that is what you want." She said softly, almost to herself, "That is what Rhys would have wanted. He had a friend that would have helped us." "Does this friend have a name so you can contact him?" Her brow furrowed. "Fox. Captain Fox. I don't remember the name of his ship though. Rhys told me to go to him and he would help me." Father Simon dusted flour off his hands and wiped it on his frock. "I must say sending you off to a foreign land is not setting well with me, child." "Father, my wolf-dog has been protecting me since I was a little girl. I shall be fine." She looked off in the distance and said, "Yes, that is where he would want me to go." "Barbados?" "Barbados."

The priest downed his brandy in one gulp and looked at her. His voice remained calm. "I see." "It was an accident, Father. I swear. It was self defense." Perhaps you had better start at the beginning." "Is this my confession?" "It is." Rhiannon took a deep drink of her brandy and said quietly, "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been over a year since my last confession." "Over a year? And to what do you owe the time lapse?" "I--I was married off to an old man I didn't love! Oh, Father, he was horrible!" "How did you come to be married off?" She looked down. "I was sent away in disgrace. I met a man." The priest said nothing. She raised her head and said almost defiantly, "It wasn't like what you think! We were in love! He had to go away to sea--" "He was a merchant sailor?" "Not exactly." "What do you mean, 'not exactly?'" She said almost inaudibly, "He's a pirate." The priest nodded. It wasn't unusual for an imaginative and romantic girl to lose her heart to a dashing figure. She took a deep breath and continued. "He was supposed to come back for me but he was delayed out of a sense of loyalty to a friend and meanwhile Mother Superior found out about us. The damned--forgive me, Father--the novitiate turned me in. I was sent home. I thought Rhys--that is his name--had deserted me and my father didn't want me around so I had to marry Lo--my husband. But Rhys found me and we made plans for him to spirit me away. But--but then my husband came home. And he ran Rhys through with his saber." "Rhys--and you..?" She blurted out, "It is not a sin if you are in love, is it, Father? The sin would be love denied! And the sin was every time my husband touched me. THAT was not love!" She fought for control of her emotions. The priest could see how fragile she was. He gently prodded, "And so what happened to the husband?" She could hardly find her voice. "He raised his saber to run me through also but I was quicker. I hurled my bodice dagger and pinned him against the wall." Rhiannon burst into tears. The kindly priest took her in his arms and patted her on the back, making soothing sounds. "My child, forgiveness has been granted. Go and sin no more." She looked up at him with a tear-stained face. "I--I'm forgiven?" "Clearly not a sin you intend on repeating--although we are a bit foggy on the 'is it a sin or not?' but I am willing to make allowances for your youth. Now, do you have a place to stay?" She shook her head no. "Where do you intend to go, child?" She sat there undecided. "I thought so. You haven't thought that far in advance. There is a bed in the loft up these stairs. You shall be safe and no harm will come to you. You are under my protection. And tomorrow we shall talk about what you shall do and where you shall go." She hugged him as if she were drowning and he was the only thing to cling to. "How can I ever thank you, Father?" "By entering a convent and becoming a nun." She looked at him with a shocked expression until he laughed. "No, I can see you are not cut out for taking the veil. Now get a good night's sleep and we shall talk on the morrow." She started up the stairs, Muir trotting after her. Rhiannon turned and politely asked, "Might I inquire of your name, Father?" "Simon. Father Simon for all your spiritual needs, Miss Rhiannon."

Honour led the horse to the front door of the church and tied him to the rail. Clutching her cloak tightly to her, she took Muir with her and timidly knocked on the door. The door was answered by an old priest. He had a full beard and was tall and imperial in his bearing. Yet there was something else in his face. Compassion. "What can I do for you, my child?" "Please, Father, can you hear a confession? Tonight?" "But, child, you should be home with your family. What drives you out on a night like this? You must be chilled to the bone." "A confession and absolution are of utmost importance, Father. Would you deny it?" "Of course not." "And sanctuary in a church? Where I will come to no harm nor arrest?" The priest took a deep breath. "My child, sanctuary and right to asylum was abolished by King James in 1623." "But can you protect me?" He said slowly, "I'll do what I can. But it is time for you to tell me what this is about." "Only in a confession. Otherwise, I leave." The priest led her to a small parlor where a fire was blazing. He sat down in a chair and motioned for her to do likewise. "Would you care for something to drink? Some tea?" She shivered. "I would prefer something a bit stronger, if you don't mind." The priest's eyes twinkled. "I was hoping you would say that. Brandy it is, then." The priest handed her a snifter. "I made it myself last spring." "You make strong spirits? Here?" "Child, I am an herbalist and a healer and a distiller. Many of these ancient recipes were handed down by the Celts and the----" here he looked around--"the Druids." Rhiannon's eyes went wide. "Druids?" The priest laughed, "Surely being Welsh, you know that a lot of the ancient practices had its roots in Druidism." She took a sip of the blackberry brandy and it warmed her. Muir curled up at her feet, happy to be out of the cold. The priest looked out at Taliesin, still tethered to the post. "My child, if you seek---sanctuary--best I take your horse to the stable and let Brother Clement care for him. No need for you to get up, you just warm up. And then we shall talk." The priest wrapped a wool scarf around his neck and closed the door. Within fifteen minutes, he reappeared with an armload of firewood. "Can't have you freezing. Your horse is stabled and being cared for." He laid more wood on the fire, then sat down and lit his pipe. "You--you smoke a pipe too?" He smiled at her. "It calms me down. Now...let's talk. Might I ask your name?" She hesitated and Muir looked up at her expectantly. "Rhiannon Cas--Rhiannon Conaway." "Pleased to meet you, Mistress Conaway. Why are you in need of a quick confession and absolution? You don't look wounded nor do you look like you are in need of last rites." She looked down at the floor and said softly, "I committed an unforgivable sin." "A young lady as yourself? Now, what could be so bad that you feel you cannot be forgiven?" She looked up at him with pain-filled eyes. "I killed my husband."

"It's alright, Muir. Just curl up under my cloak." The wolf-dog snuggled closer to Rhiannon. Taliesin, the steed she took from the convent, seemed to know that his rider needed to get away as far as she could and quickly. Rhiannon's breath clouded in the damp, cold Welsh night. 'Have to get away....have to get away....have to....' "Halt!" Rhiannon drew the reins up short and Taliesin skidded to a stop, rearing up slightly. "Wh--who is it?" A dark cloaked figure came out from behind the trees, his coal black stallion blocking their way. "Never mind the name," the stranger said. In the moonlight, Rhiannon could see that he was rough trade. "Wh-wh-what do you want?" He gave a low chuckle. "Yer valuables, fer one." Her hand tightened on the saddle bag that contained all the Castlemaine jewels. Her duffel bags with her clothes and the money were thrown across Taliesin's back and tied down securely. "I-I don't have any money." "No? Then what is in the bags?" "Just foodstuff. I--I'm on my way to see my sister. She's about a day's journey." "And what is a nice girl like you doing riding at night instead of cozied in an inn?" "It was too crowded so I decided to ride as long as I could and then set up in a cave...or something." He laughed. "I think I can arrange the 'or something.' Now hop yer pretty self down from the horse and I'll show you how cozy it can be." "WHAT?" Taliesin pranced in place and Muir emitted a low growl. "Ye got a dog there? Just tie him up near the tree, darling. Ye have no money and I haven't seen a woman in a week. I need something out of this." Rhiannon shakily reached into the pouch and produced two pistols. "And what will you do if I sh-shoot you?" He laughed even harder. "Ye can't even hold onto them, ye're shaking so hard. Now come on and hand them over before you hurt yourself." "I--I mean it. I--I'll shoot if I have to." "No, ye won't. Ye ain't got it in ye. Now, hurry up and I'll show ye some right good lovin' under this here full moon and then--" BAM! A sharp yell of pain filled the night as the man clutched his knee. "B*TCH!" he yelled. Rhiannon fired another shot wildly and it missed the man's head by inches, sending his hat flying into the air. He dropped to the road and tried to staunch the blood. She pulled back on the hammer and squeezed the trigger but it just clicked. No spark, no fire. She hurled one of the pistols at the man, bonking him in the forehead with the butt of the pistol. He fell face forward in the road, curiously silent. Rhiannon wasted no time. She dug her boot heels into Taliesin. The horse reared back and bolted. As he dashed by, he brushed into the robber's horse and spooked him. The robber's horse took off down the road in the opposite direction. About ten miles down the road, Rhiannon reined Taliesin. There was a fork in the road and Rhiannon did not know which way to go. Would one lead to a town? Does the other one drive her deeper into the forest? Would there be more highwaymen? And did she have any more shot for the pistols? As if she could load them herself... The horse stopped and Rhiannon looked up at the stars that shining in the indigo night. It was becoming colder. Rhiannon watching her breath frost up, her fingers numb from holding the reins. She gazed up at the heavens and searched them as if she would find the answer there. 'Mother? Mother? Pl-please! Please! I need your help!' she begged. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. The last year had been a terror for her. Aside from the fact that she was told to leave the convent--the only home she had known for the past eleven years--her father had married her off to an old man. Even though Madoc was an old man of forty-seven, he was lively. She wiped her tears with the corner of the cloak. Muir let out a whimper and licked her face. She hugged him fiercely. 'Where are we to go, Muir? What shall we do?' She looked up to see her answer off in the distance. A small stone church with a light in the stained glass window.

Rhiannon stared as her husband lay there. She heard a moan from the bed and as if swimming underwater and coming to the surface, she saw Rhys laying on the bed. She ran over to him. He laid there holding his side, his fingers and hand turning red with the blood that was seeping from the wound inflicted on him by Madoc. "Oh my God, Rhys." She held him and the blood continued to seep, crimson and staining her hands and saturated her dress. His breathing was shallow. "Ah, Rhiannon. I always thought I would die at sea. From a battle or maybe even a mutiny. Going down with my ship. Never in my dreams for the crime of being in the arms of a woman." "Rhys, here. Let me help you sit up. It might not be as bad as it looks..." He shook his head and whispered, "I know it's fatal, my love." She felt hot tears trace down her face. "Rhys. Please don't leave me, Rhys. You promised me...you promised you would love me forever." "I will, my darling....love...love you forever...." "No, Rhys. NO! I won't have it. You said you would marry me. Together forever. That--that is what you promised me." His eyes closed, the bedclothes turning red. She laid her head on his shoulder and cradled his head in her arms. "I won't hear of it, Rhys. I won't let you leave me. You can't. You won't. I won't have it. I--I can't bear it. I can't go on without you." His breathing grew more labored. "Can't--can't breathe. Not much time. Promise me one thing. Go to---go to Barbados. Get help from.....find him. He will know what to do." She was sobbing. "You are coming with me. I won't have it any other way. I love you. Don't leave me, Rhys! DON'T LEAVE ME!" He drew a breath and touched her face. "I'll always be with you. I love you, Rhiannon....always and for...forever...." His eyes closed and he went limp. She cradled his head to her cheek and wept. But there was no response from Rhys. Rhiannon didn't know how long she laid there holding on to him. Finally she dragged herself out of the bed, emotionally numb. She took cloths and wiped as much blood as she could from her hands and her body. She then took a pitcher of water and filled the basin. The water turned red. Fill and rinse, fill and rinse....there was no stop to the crimson water. She just repeated the actions as if someone else were doing it. 'Got to get out of here....leave....leave....' She knew the vengefulness of Madoc's sons, particularly Henry who always resented Rhiannon usurping his dead mother's place. If she stayed, there was a more than good chance she would stand trial and swing for killing her husband. 'Go to Barbados...find him...he will know what to do...' That is what Rhys whispered to her. But who? The captain....what was his name? Fox. That was it. Captain Fox. As if in a trance she dropped her bloodied chemise and threw it in the fireplace. She dressed quickly in riding clothes. Walking over to the safe, she emptied the contents into a cloth bag. Jewelry and coins. She shoved any papers and property deeds she could. She took out the final papers. It was the marriage contract between her father and Madoc. It was the promise of giving Rhiannon the woods and meadowland between the two estates when she produced an heir. 'So I was nothing but a broodmare.' She crumpled the paper and threw it into the flames. 'Take that. I won't be sold like a slave.' Opening up her armoire, she took anything she could and shoved them into two duffel bags. Taking her cloak she wrapped it around her shoulders. Looking at Rhys' body on the bed, she felt the tears slide down her face. She brushed the hair out of his face and kissed his lips that were still warm. Softly she whispered, "I know you will always be with me, my love. A love like ours can never die. There is nothing I can do anymore for you. May God have mercy on your soul, my darling." She touched the sleeve of his shirt. "I love you, Rhys. Forever. I'll never love anyone again. Not like I love you." She didn't even bother to look at Madoc. She tossed the bags out the window and then threw her leg over the sill. She looked down. About twenty feet. She climbed down the trellis as far as she could, the thorns scratching at her and catching at her hair. Finally there was about ten feet left. She closed her eyes and took a leap. Landing on the ground, she picked up her bags and quietly went down to the stables. And there was the horse she had taken from the Order of St Bridgid. A horse named Taliesin. She wasn't stealing him. Just borrowed with no intention of returning. Ever. She saddled and bridled him. Throwing the bags over the rear of the horse, she then whistled quietly for her wolf-dog Muir. Muir came out from under the hay and jumped on her. "Hello, Muir. Looks like we are going on another adventure." She climbed the gate of the stall and jumped on Taliesin's back. She then patted her leg and Muir took a leap. She caught him as he was in midair. She put him in front of her and their mutual heat warmed each other. Their breaths fogged in the night air. "Ready, Taliesin?" She reined him towards the door. As he cleared it, she kicked in with her boots. Hard. Taliesin reared slightly as if in agreement and cantered forward. Her hair streamed behind her as she galloped towards the woods. Anywhere...just away from Castlemaine Manor.

Rhiannon's voice caught in her throat as she whispered, 'Dear God." Rhys turned at the shaft of light and saw Lord Castlemaine framed in the doorway. "So it is true." "Madoc....." her voice was scarcely above a whisper. "YOU!" Madoc yelled. "I thought all this time it was HIM. The Frenchman. But she was cuckolding me with you---a common pirate." Rhys moved between Rhiannon and Madoc. "And what sort of man beats his wife with a riding crop?" "One whose wife needs to learn obedience. And now it turns out I beat her for the right reasons but for the wrong man. Well, that can be remedied." He turned to Rhiannon. "Sir Winston Radcliffe told me he saw a woman who was my wife's double in Cardiff. I wanted to cut his tongue out for lying but I had to know for myself. All that time you and this cur were trysting in that cottage, you had no idea you were being followed, did you?" Rhiannon stood there, not knowing what to do and not daring to look at Rhys. Not while Madoc was brandishing his rapier. "It's not what you think, Madoc...." "DON'T TAKE ME FOR A FOOL WITH YOUR LIES, RHIANNON! I had Mortimer keep a close eye on you. And he had heard through the window that you were planning your grand escape tonight. So he sent word to me. I have been staying at an inn about a day's journey from here just waiting for the word of your blundering plans." "Madoc...." "Remember Cromwell's Act of Adultery, my dear? I am perfectly within my rights to take the law in my own hands." Rhys spoke up sharply, "Don't be a fool, Castlemaine." He turned to Rhys and spat, "Stay out of this, you dog. This is between me and my wife. I'll settle with you too. After all, you forget who is the one weaponed here and who is the one who has been betrayed. No court will convict me. Crime of passion and all." Rhiannon reached out to touch his arm in supplication, begging, "Please, Madoc. PLEASE!" He threw her hand off, his eyes ablaze with fury. "Please, Madoc. Please let him live. Don't add murder into it! Please! For me...." Madoc sneered, "For you? FOR YOU? You think I want the entire shire to know I was cuckolded by the likes of him? A PIRATE? And the very one who has been storing his ill-gotten treasures in the caves on my land?" Rhys retorted, "As if you didn't know. How will the bluebloods react when the story gets out how you received your percentage of this dirty money?" "You bastard! You use my land and you treat my wife like a common trollop. Well, that is just what she is. A trollop. A whore. And you can both be together where I am sending you. To hell." He drew his sword and advanced towards them. Rhys grabbed Rhiannon and shoved her aside just as Madoc raised his sword. She screamed and the blade moved swift catching Rhys in the side. A look of astonishment crossed his face before he fell on her. "And now to finish you off, you whore!" Madoc screamed. He raised his rapier and advanced towards her. "No court will convict me. You cheating..." He raised his blade and she rolled quickly off the bed. Her hand fell on what she now knew what she had been looking for when Rhys threw the pebbles against the window. Her bodice dagger. With lightning fast reflexes, she threw the dagger. In her adrenaline rushed drive to survive, the aim was true. It found its mark. Madoc's heart. Or would have been if he had one. Madoc was thrown back against the wall from the sheer force of her pitching. The rapier clattered to the floor. He said not a word but a look of incredulity crossed his face. He slid down the wall, reaching his hand out to Rhiannon. She recoiled in horror. "Rhi...Rhia....Rhiannon......" Blood bubbled from his lips as he pitched forward.

Thursday night.... "Now where did it go?" Rhiannon startled at the sound at her window. There it went again. She cautiously opened the casement window and looked below. "Hold your fire!" she said in a whisper. Rhys stood there with a few pebbles in his hand. "I had to get your attention someway. I saw you through the window so I waited till you were near it." "Can you make it up the trellis?" "Darling, to rescue you I would fight St. George's dragon." He deftly got a foothold on the trellis and clinging between the vines and the wood, he managed to make it up to the window. With his hands on the ledge, he hoisted himself up and threw his leg over the sill. "Are you packed?" "Almost. I have a few duffel bags and am taking all the clothes that are practical." He held up a dress that was thrown on the bed. "The yellow one?" Her lips drew into a tight line as she remembered her one act of defiance in getting married in that dress. "No." "Why not? It was the dress you wore that first time we made----" "NO!" She picked it up and threw it into the flames in the fireplace. "I'll never wear yellow again." Rhys knew better than to ask questions to which he didn't want to know the answers to. As she stared at the dress scorching and then being consumed, she started trembling. "Just get me out of here, Rhys. Now." "You have everything you want?" She nodded. "All I need is to get Muir. He's in the stables and we can get him on our way out." "Dolan will be at the edge of the woods at eight o'clock with a carriage and we can board tonight and sail at first break of dawn. The tide will be in." "All I need is to change out of this dress and into some traveling clothes. I have my riding breeches over there." "Then change and let's get out of here." Rhiannon quickly dropped her dress, standing before her armoire in her chemise and grabbing a shirt. Suddenly the door opened slowly. Her worst nightmare had come true. Madoc stood there in the doorway. And he was weaponed.

The door creaked open. Rhys was waiting in the caretaker's cottage that they had been using for clandestine meetings and stolen moments. A candle was burning down and a bottle of wine was open. He turned and saw Rhiannon standing in the shadows. "I was beginning to wonder if you would make it. I was getting worried about you." Rhiannon kept the cloak hood up around her face and kept herself turned to the door. Quietly she spoke, "I can't stay. I just came to tell you I won't be able to come here for a few weeks." He crossed over to her, putting his hand gently on her arm. Her face was turned away. "Rhiannon? Rhiannon, look at me." She turned into the half-light. "I need to go, Rhys." Gently he pushed her cloak hood down. "Oh my God." Rhiannon's lip was still cut and swollen. Her left cheek had a black and blue mark and a welt . She bowed her head in shame as a tear trickled down her cheek. "The portrait was unveiled last night." Rhys could feel blind rage building up. "And so he expressed his opinion of it this way?" She nodded wordlessly. He gently touched her cheek said tersely, "Is this all?" She shook her head. "Where?" "All--all over. His riding crop." Rhys could feel his heart break for her. He enfolded her in his arms and drew her head gently to his chest. She moaned softly. "I--I just hurt all over. I even hurt too much to cry. I just don't want you to see the rest of it. I'll heal. Rhoslyn brought me some ointments for it. And I rest when I can." "Oh, my darling. I am so sorry." "He accused me of being in love with Monsieur Gerard. Fortunately for him, he was in Italy. Otherwise, I am afraid Madoc would call him out and there would be a scandal. As it is, I seem to have paid the price." He held her gently. "Rhys, I'm afraid. I talked to Rhoslyn a bit and I found out his first wife fell down the stairs and broke her neck. I am wondering now....was it really an accident? I'm so very afraid of him. He left for London this morning. I--I didn't want you to see me this way." He pulled away and looked at her with a hardened look in his eyes. "Then in two days we are out of Beaumaris. We will sail for Barbados at first light on Thursday. Can you be ready?" She nodded. "I won't take anything but Muir. I know he will be only too happy to get out of that barn and into a life of sunshine." "I'll be by around six o'clock to help you pack. The I'll have Dolan come with a carriage. Pack as many clothes as you can. No sense leaving them behind. And your jewelry. You earned it." "I'll tell the help that I am going to bed early because I decided to join Madoc in London. That way they won't be wondering where I am. And we will have a two week head start on Madoc." "That bastard. I would love to stay and finish him off." She gently put her finger to his lips. "Just get me away from here. I don't care where we are as long as it isn't in England or Wales. Paris...Rome...Barbados...the Colonies. Anywhere that Madoc's connections can't reach us." "I'll get in touch with my friend. He offered to help and guarantees or safety. We can go anywhere in this world, change our identites. And leave all this behind us till the coast is clear." She laid her head on his chest and he stroked her hair away from her face. "Thursday. After Thursday, I'll be free of all this. Promise me it will work out, Rhys. It just has to." "It will, love. Or else it will be the last thing we ever do."

The night passed quickly by. Madoc spent most of the night chatting with the other members of the upper class about his horse breeding and what changes Cromwell was implementing in the Commonwealth. Rhiannon occupied her time dancing with guest after guest and listening to the latest gossip among the ladies. It was all she could do to keep her face from registering the boredom she felt. There were too many Lord West---- and ----cliffes to suit her. All the while she was wishing Rhys was there. That it was Rhys she was dancing with. As the guests were leaving, Rhiannon and Madoc stood by the door as they exchanged good nights and final compliments on the portrait. The door finally closed on the last guest by midnight. "I'll be up in a few minutes, Rhiannon." "Madoc, I am really tired---" "I said a few minutes." She sighed. "As you wish." Madoc stood before the portrait staring at it. The merriment in Rhiannon's eyes haunted him. Something....something there. Her smile seemed to mock him. He poured a glass of brandy all the while searching her face for something. He drank the brandy in one gulp and turning he hurled the glass against the fireplace. Because right now what he wanted were answers. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The door opened forcefully, slamming against the wall. Rhiannon turned with a start. "My goodness, Madoc! You startled me!" She stood before him in her underpinnings, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his penetrating gaze. He crossed the room in three strides and grabbed her by the wrist. "What was the meaning of that?" She flinched but met his gaze. Wrenching her wrist from him, she said coldly, "I have no idea what you are talking about. I am tired and I want to--" "Oh, no? The portrait shows it very clearly. Gerard DuPre painted you as he saw you. As a woman in love. And through the eyes of a man in love. DuPre is in love with you." "That's not true!" "DON'T LIE!" He raised his hand and struck her hard across the face. Rhiannon fell against the wall. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. She let out a scream. The door burst open and Rhoslyn stood there with her mouth open, looking from Madoc to Rhiannon. "GET OUT!" Madoc yelled. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rhosyn cautiously opened the door. "Madame? Lady Castlemaine?" In the corner, in the dark sat Rhiannon. She had propped herself up against the wall. "Oh sweet Lord, Madame!" "He--help me up, Rhoslyn." She gently put her arm around Rhiannon's waist as she braced herself against the wall to stand. Her leg started to buckle but she grabbed the bedpost in time to keep from falling. Her clothing was tattered. "Just--just get me to the bed, Rhoslyn." Gently her maid led her to the bed and helped her put her legs up. "I'm getting you a cold cloth, Milady." Rhiannon laid there with her arm across her face, too bruised to even cry. Rhoslyn tenderly wiped her face, the cloth showing blood where she had wiped her lip. "Did I ever--ever tell you how much I like you, Rhoslyn?" Rhoslyn understood what Rhiannon was doing. She was talking to keep herself conscious. "Let me help you out of these rags, Milady." She got a clean chemise and helped Rhiannon as one would a child taking off a garment. She gasped. Rhiannon's body was covered with bruises. Some were already turning purple. "Milady...." "The riding crop, Rhoslyn. It---it seems Lord Castlemaine wanted to try it out and I was conven...convenient." Rhoslyn's eyes welled up with tears as she brushed Rhiannon's hair from her face. Rhiannon moaned. "I seem to have a bit of swelling on the side of my face, Rhoslyn." The maid said, "Do you expect Lord Castlemaine back?" She shook her head slightly. "I think he went somewhere to cool off." A slight smile tried to grace her face. "After--after all, he really put himself into it." Rhiannon then covered her face with her hands as sobs wracked her body. "Why, Rhoslyn...why? Was he always like this?" "More or less, dear. More so after....she died. Almost as if he was mad that she dared to die on him. Wiithout his permisson." "How--how did she die?" "She fell down the stairs." "How fortunate for her." Rhoslyn got some more cloths and washed Rhiannon's bruises. "At least he didn't break the skin. But he--he owes me a new chemise." And then the shock wore off and reality set in. Rhiannon's tears began anew. Rhoslyn gathered her in her arms and rocked her as a mother would a child. "Will...will this always be my life, Rhoslyn? Living in fear and waiting for the next beating?" Rhoslyn stroked her hair. "I don't know, Milady. All I know is that what you reap, you sow. And as my mother used to say, 'things have a way of working out.' " Rhiannon said softly, "I'm so tired, Rhoslyn. Can you extinguish the candle?" "Aye, Milady." "And Rhoslyn?" "Yes, Madame?" "Can---can you stay with me till I fall asleep?" she said in a small voice. Her mouth set in a firm line. "Aye, Milady. I certainly shall. I'll stay all night." Rhiannon gave Rhoslyn's hand a squeeze and then moaned. "I guess it wasn't a good idea to try to defend myself. My hands....." And with that, Rhiannon drifted into a deep sleep. Rhoslyn covered her up with a coverlet and whispered, "Aye, little one. I'll stay the night. Just to make sure no more harm comes to you."

Rhiannon and Rhys stood at the edge of the woods that led up to Castlemaine. He gently took her hand. "I hate the thought of you in that cold manor, darling." She squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes. "I'll be fine. I know you have to go back to Cardiff by the end of the week. And I have to play the dutiful wife." He kissed her gently. "I'll be back before the end of the month. I'm only sailing as far as Calais. I'll leave you a note on the table in that old caretaker's cottage when I am back." She laid her head on his chest. "I love you, Rhys." "As I do you." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Madoc!" He put his papers down. "So...no welcome from my wife? I came back and you weren't here." "When did you get back?" "Late last night. The servants told me you were staying at your sister's to help with the children when she was ill? Does she not have a governess?" Rhiannon hung up her cloak. "She does but Dylan was asking for me and since you were away, I saw no harm in it." "And you were gone a whole week?" "Thereabout. But enough of me. Act for the Settlement of Ireland. But this is way over your head, Rhiannon. You wouldn't understand it." She felt her face turn hot and she kept her retort to herself. "Well, then, what good am I then if you can't discuss things with me?" "Your place is to plan the dinner party for Wednesday." "Wednesday? Madoc, another one? I'm a bit tired of this." "And that is one thing a wife is good for. I think the brown dress with the ecru lace on the collar and cuffs would be best." Madoc returned to the papers he was reading. "This is interesting. Cromwell passed the Act of Adultery. I didn't think that would ever happen." Rhiannon felt the blood leave her face. "Wh-what act is that?" He rustled his papers and read, "Adultery shall be adjudged Felony. And be it further Enacted by the authority aforesaid, That in case any married woman shall from and after the Four and twentieth day of June aforesaid, be carnally known by any man (other them her Husband) (except in Case of Ravishment) and of such offence or offences shall be convicted as aforesaid by confession or otherwise, every such Offence and Offences shall be and is hereby adjudged Felony: and every person, as well the man as the woman, offending therein, and confessing the same, or being thereof convicted by verdict upon Indictment or Presentment as aforesaid, shall suffer death as in case of Felony, without benefit of Clergy." He put it aside. "Well, my dear, that should keep many a wife from leaving her husband's bed for another, wouldn't you agree?" Rhiannon laid her forehead against the window and looked out. "Yes, dear. I should think so." But her mind took her back to a seaside town. And to a man with eyes the colour of the sea.

Two weeks later..... "A room, please." Rhiannon tried not to look nervously around her. 'Why should I worry?' she thought. 'I am a hundred miles away from home and Madoc is safely esconced in London. As far as the staff at Castlemaine is concerned, my sister has a bad cold and needed me to fulfill a few social obligations for her. It was so much easier to stay at her home anyways....' "Sign here, please." Rhys picked up the pen and signed 'Mr and Mrs. Liam Gallagher'. "This way, please." The innkeeper's wife led the way up the stairs. "You and your wife are traveling through?" "No, ma'am. My wife and I decided to take a holiday for the week. Getting away is just what she needs what with her father dying and all.' Rhiannon couldn't help but smile. Rhys was certainly going to elaborate lengths to cover their tracks. "I'm so sorry, my dear." Rhiannon feigned a pained look. "Thank you. Hearing the news that he died was such a severe shock. I certainly didn't expect it." Rhys raised his eyebrow and smiled behind the woman's back. "Well, I hope you enjoy your stay, dear." "I'm sure we will. I just need to rest. Thank you for everything." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rhiannon sat on the edge of the bed and bounced. "Look, Rhys! An actual BED!" They both looked at each other and laughed. "Yes, well.....it will be the first time I have woken up next to you!" She laughed, "Or said goodnight." "Or had breakfast in bed." "Or..." Rhys silenced her with a kiss. "You never did tell me what business you have in Cardiff." "Oh, that. Well, I have to arrange for disposal of wine, spices and coffee and pick up some wool and whiskey. Irish linen. Did I mention the whiskey?" "Yes, you did. And how are you going to get it here on horseback?" "I'm not taking it with me. Dolan wil sail the Neptune Rising to Cardiff in a few days. I'm here to sign the manifest and I'll take you back to Beaumaris and then come back here and rejoin the ship." "Rhys, I don't like this. It is just like the last time when you were delayed rescuing Captain Fox..." "...Ferret--damn it! Now you have ME doing it! It's Wolfe--with an 'e' no less!" "Please, can't we just run away NOW?" "Sweetheart, I would love to. But I am picking up the whiskey in Scotland and then I swear I will come back for you. We can still meet. And I noticed an abandoned caretaker's cottage near the gristmill. Besides, I'll be in port every few weeks. I have to visit my folks, too. But by January things will be wrapped up that we can sail for Barbados." "I guess you have to scrap your plans of being a cartographer." "For now. As long as...." "As long as Madoc is alive?" Rhys shrugged. Rhiannon bit her lip. "He's frightfully healthy. Once he took an arrow in the shoulder. He pulled it out and continued the hunt to the end. Rhys, he frightens me. Nothing fazes him." Rhys could see Rhiannon was getting upset so he changed the subject. "Is the portrait almost done?" "It will be by the end of December. I think Madoc wants a big 'unveiling' so that means another social occasion. He's in for a surprise, though." "How so?" "He thinks I am wearing this matronly dress that belonged to his dead wife. But I um....got too close to the fire and oh dear! It seemed to have gotten a bit singed." "Will Madoc be upset?" She hesitated. "I guess I didn't think that far in advance. It was just a whim. I'll deal with it later. But let us not speak of Madoc anymore. I want to enjoy this time together." He kissed her. "Your every wish is my command, Milady!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Lady Castlemaine? I thought that was you! What are you doing in Cardiff?" Rhiannon almost dropped her teacup into the saucer. "I beg your pardon?" "Lady Castlemaine! We met at the ball at Lord Overton's estate. Don't you remember me? Sir Winston Radcliffe?" "Is there a problem?" Rhys came over to Rhiannon and sat down at her table. Rhiannon put her hand over Rhys' and said, "Dear, this gentleman seems to have mistaken me for a Lady....Castlemaine, is it?" Rhys gave Sir Radcliffe a condescending smile. "I am quite sure you have made a mistake, my good man. This lovely woman here is Katie Gallagher. My wife." Sir Radcliffe looked from one to the other, an expression of doubt on his face. "Are....are you sure?" Rhys burst out laughing. "Aye, mate. I am sure. She has been my wife for the last two years. We are from Dublin. Here to visit Katie's sister." Rhiannon nodded. "I'm sorry I can't be who you want me to be." She turned to Rhys, " A lady no less, Liam! Imagine that!" Sir Radcliffe mopped his red face with a handkerchief. "Begging your pardon, Mrs. Gallagher. But you look just like a Lady Castlemaine from Beaumaris. My deepest apologies." She nodded. "No pardon to be begged. I'm sure she is a lovely woman." Rhys raised his eyebrow at Sir Radcliffe. "Anything else I can do for you, Sir?" He shook his head in confusion. "No. I am sorry to have intruded. Please enjoy your day." They watched as Sir Radcliffe disappeared. Rhys frowned. "I don't like that. Don't like it at all." Rhiannon's hands shook as she tried to bring her teacup up to her lips. "Do---do you think we fooled him?" He gave her a reassuring smile. "I am sure we did, darling. But just to be safe---maybe we should be a bit more cautious when we go out." She nodded. "I really don't remember him. But I meet so many people at these affairs, it is hard to keep track of Sir this and Lady that." Rhys scanned the crowd. "Still...to be safe...maybe we should head back to Beaumaris a day early. I hate to do it but my business is wrapped up here and as much as I would love to stay here with you, I think it best we leave. Who knows how many more of his kind are here." She nodded. "I knew it was too good to last, my love." He stood up and pulled her chair out. "Then let's not waste any more time here. I know a room where a bottle of wine is waiting." She put her arm in his and gave him a kiss. "Then lead the way!"

"So where does that leave us, Rhys?" He looked tenderly at her, and removed her hat, tossing it into the shrubbery. Unlacing her waist cincher, it fell to her feet. He gave a gentle tug and her drawstring skirt drifted to the ground. She stood there in her light chemise. Reaching up, he took the ribbon and pulled it from her hair, falling to her shoulders. All she could manage to say was, "Oh, Rhys...." The only sound was their two hearts beating and the wind through the willow trees. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As they lay in each other's arms, Rhiannon whispered, "I love you, Rhys. I never stopped loving you." "Nor have I for you. A part of me was always hoping I would find you again. Someday, some way...." "So what do we do now, Rhys?" He stroked her hair. "I guess I never thought that far ahead, love." She propped herself up on her elbow, her fingers trailing lightly on his chest. "And now that I have found you, I never want to let you go, Rhiannon. But I swear, I'll find a way for us." "Madoc has a very violent temper. I--I'd fear for both our lives." "Can you get away tomorrow?" She shook her head. "Madoc is having a few gentlemen over to discuss the breeding of Welsh ponies. They are arranging some sort of 'encounter' for one of our mares. I can't go off riding too many times or he will question it. And I need to pick some blueberries--Blueberries! I forgot my blueberry basket!" He hushed her with a kiss. "So you dropped them on your way back." She sighed. "Madoc leaves for London on the twenty-first for some Parliamentary thing for two weeks." "Will he take you?" "Not this time. Nothing is going on in the social season of London. And I hate to ride in a carriage. Madoc deems it unladylike for me to ride by horseback to travel with him." "So...how do you feel about a week in Cardiff?" "Cardiff?" "I have some business to wrap up there. We can hire a couple horses and a nice week at a seaside resort where no one knows us. No one looking over our shoulders. What do you say to that?" She threw her arms around him and drew him down for a kiss. "I'd say it sounds like heaven on earth but I think I just had it." Rhiannon looked up at the sun. "I'd better head back." She gathered her chemise and pulled it over her head. "Now where is my....ah! There it is!" Finally she got herself presentable and picked up her velvet ribbon. "Allow me," Rhys said. He gathered her hair together and tied it with the ribbon. Kissing her tenderly on the nose, he asked, "And you will be alright?" She sighed. "There is one thing about being rich, Rhys. You are always 'alright'. We aren't allowed to be any other way." Arms wrapped around each other, they made their way to the horses. Rhys helped her up on the mare. She looked down at him and said, "Thursday. Same place." With that, she lightly kicked the mare and headed towards the meadow. Rhys watched her ride off until he could see her no more. 'I won't let you go this time, Rhiannon. We have a second chance and damn it all if we aren't going to take it!' With that he mounted his steed and headed in the opposite direction.

Rhiannon slowed Daisy down to a trot. She wended her way through the maple trees. The canopy of foliage provided just enough cover. Easing Daisy down the slope, she came to a clearing. Ahead lay the grist mill. A chestnut horse was tethered to an oak tree and on the millrace sat Rhys Morgan. She reined her mare in and asked, "Where did you get your means of conveyance?" He smiled. "You always did have a fancy way with words. I hired her from a stable. Oh, don't look so alarmed. It was on the poor side of town. I told the stable master that I had to meet my brother to discuss family business regarding an inheritance. He didn't question the gold coin I gave him." "No wonder. You always did dress in the finest of clothes, Captain Morgan." "It's not the cost, sweetheart, it is all in how you wear them. A pauper can look like a prince if he struts right. And I gave my name as Liam Gallagher. So no one will trace me." "Ha! With that Welsh accent?" Rhys affected a perfect Gaelic accent. "I be beggin' ta differ, me sweet colleen!" Rhiannon tried to stifle her laugh. "Where's Muir?" "He's back at the stables. Madoc won't have him in the house." "Why not?" "Because he thinks Muir is a bad influence on his damned wolfhounds." "Muir? That pup is the model of obedience!" "You and I know that but this is Madoc's way of being a bastard." Rhys reached into his saddlebag. "I thought you might be hungry so I brought some fruit and cheese. And here--" He handed her a round loaf of bread as he reached back into the saddlebag. "---is some rye bread and I got this bottle of wine from the innkeeper." "Claret. My favorite." He produced two goblets. My, my! You do think of everything, Captain Morgan!" "Well, I feel it is the least I can do for you." He poured the claret and handed one to her. Raising his glass, he intoned, "To Muir! A prince among the paupers! Long may he bark!" Rhiannon burst out laughing. "You always find a way to make me laugh." They ate their fruit and cheese, making idle chat to avoid the one subject neither found the words for. The future. Rhys stood up. "I never knew this place was here. How did you find it?" "Picking blueberries. I found the start of the creek and followed it. Around the bend there. And then I came across the mill. It has been deserted for over fifty years. Beyond the clearing is a pond with daffodils. They are all gone now since they only bloom in the spring. And there is a grove of walnut trees." "Walnuts? Show me!" They untethered their horses and taking the reins, Rhiannon led Rhys to a small clearing. "There really are walnuts here!" They tied the horses up and scooped up a few nuts, cracking them open with a rock. Rhiannon sat down. Sometimes I come here to be by myself." "Do you do this often?" "Every chance I get. Most of the time with Muir and---oh, look, Rhys! A daffodil!" One lone perfect yellow daffodil grew by itself near the pond. They walked over and Rhiannon reached down to pick it. "Don't!" Rhys said. She raised her eyebrow at him while removing her hand from the stem. Rhys took her hand in his and said, "Don't you see, Rhiannon? In spite of everything--the timing and the season, that daffodil proved nature wrong. There is a lesson there. If it is right, nothing can stop it. And it will grow and flourish in spite of everything." "Like us," she whispered. "Like us," Rhys said. She looked up at him and saw what she had hoped to see in his eyes. The love that never left them.

Rhiannon sat on the bluff where she had sat so many afternoons writing her poetry. So many things changed, it was like a lifetime ago. She unconsciously twisted her wedding band. As she gazed across to the sea, she heard a twig snap behind her. Sharply turning her head, she saw him. Rhys Morgan. She turned her head and looked out to the sea again. "I knew you would come," she said softly. He leaned on a crossed limb. "I knew you'd be here." "So...you are now Lady Castlemaine. Mistress of the manor." She felt her eyes well up with tears and barely whispered, 'I waited. And waited. And waited. And waited..." Her voice trailed off. He sat beside her, plucking a blade of grass. "I came as soon as I could." She whirled on him. "Eight months too late! Do you have any idea what you have done to my life?" "I ran into trouble." "So did I, Rhys. So did I. Mother Superior found out and I was sent home in disgrace." "Disgrace? You didn't waste any time in getting married. Athena told me that as soon as you left, within a month you were married to landed gentry. An older man, she said. She couldn't figure out why no banns were posted. Were you afraid he would find out about us and change his mind?" Rhiannon raised her hand to slap Rhys and he caught her by the wrist. "Damn you, Rhys Morgan. You ruined my life. I loved you and gave you my heart. My soul. I was ready to sail with you and you wouldn't let me. Did you get delayed by some treasure? A woman, perhaps? Were you in prison?" "As a matter of fact, I was." Her mouth dropped open. He stood up and held his hand out to her. "Let's walk. I don't want your reputation besmirched, Lady Castlemaine. I know your husband and I don't think he would hesitate to stretch my neck if he could." They walked through the woods in silence for a few minutes. "You are looking well, Lady Castlemaine." "As are you, Captain Morgan." "Nice dress." Rhiannon smoothed the gathers on her silk skirt down. "Thank you." "Beautiful boots." She said nothing. "Is that ring an original or a hand me down from the first Lady Castlemaine?" "Damn you, Rhys Morgan! DAMN YOU!' He stopped and looked at her. "I'm sorry. That was totally uncalled for on my part, Lady Castlemaine." She turned her head. "Please. Don't call me that." "Lady Castlemaine?" She nodded miserably, unable to face him. He turned her face to his and looked at the sadness in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm...so..very...sorry," she blurted out. She looked back into his eyes and fell into his arms, sobbing. Rhys held her until her tears were spent. "Rhiannon, my love, I haven't the words to tell you how sorry I am. I came back as quickly as I could." She whispered, "It wasn't quick enough, Rhys. Do you know what it was like waiting day after day, night after night for you to come? Muir sat by that window all night long watching. I think he wanted out of St Brigid's as much as I did." Rhiannon sat on a boulder, dabbing her eyes with the handkerchief. "If I hadn't married Madoc, my father was going to hunt you down if you were still alive and hang you. I--I did it to protect you." "But how did Mother Superior find out about us? We were never seen." "Oh, but we were. Mary Agnes--the damn snitch--decided in the interest of her immortal soul, to unburden herself to the parish priest. He in turn broke the rules of confession and got his mouth running to the old crone. And I was sent home. Father found out what it was and who it was with. Rhys, I never knew you used the caves as storage for your smuggled goods." He sighed. "I was quitting the Account and I didn't want you to think I was using you as a ways and means to keep it there." "Well, it turns out Father found out about what was in the cave. He didn't do anything about it right away since I turned up at the same time. And he used it as leverage to take care of his 'situation.' Seems I brought disgrace on the house of Conway. He knew Madoc Castlemaine was keen to get married again and regain his position in the social world of Wales and a young bride was just the thing." "Did Castlemaine ever find out about you and me?" "No. Father had intimated that I had been seduced by an unknown and it was a one-time thing. That seemed acceptable to Madoc. But in small ways, he never lets me forget that I am 'damaged goods' in his eyes." "Is he good to you?" She sighed. "Good. No, he is not good to me. He's controlling and demanding. And he has a cruel streak." "I'm so sorry, my darling." He gently pushed her hair back from her face. "God, I love you." She turned her head so he wouldn't see the despair in her eyes. She could almost handle it if he were ambivalent towards her but this was salt in a fresh wound. She could hardly get the words out. "Rhys, why did you desert me? I waited for you." Rhys took her hand. "I didn't desert you, love. But I had no choice. It was my duty as a Morgan to help out a friend. Honour above all things, Rhiannon. A friend of mine was being held captive by a crazed Spanish count over a slight indiscretion. His quartermaster was going in half-cocked to rescue him. If I didn't lead the rescue, the quartermaster would have gotten himself killed and Jack Wolfe would have died a horrific death. He's recuperating at a friend's establishment." "I certainly hope Mr. Fox--" "---Wolfe." "---whatever his name is---I hope that namesake of vermin is pleased he ruined two lives!" "Darling, he had no idea. He even told me to leave him, to go back to Wales and live happily ever after. I came back as soon as I was sure he was taken care of." "So where does that leave us, Rhys?" He reached over and brushed her hair from her face. "I don't know. All is I know that I can't let you go. I won't let you go." She turned her head. "Rhys, Madoc's powerful. And he's connected. And he's ruthless." "And cruel and vindictive. I have had dealings with him." "I surmised as much. Merchant, my arse. You had the same arrangement with him as you did with my father. But with Madoc's blessings". "Can you get away tomorrow?" She nodded slowly. "I'll find a way. But don't meet me here. It's too open. I'll take one of the horses out riding tomorrow. Madoc will be gone all morning." "Where shall we meet?" "See that path there? About half a mile away is an old grinding mill. I'll meet you there." He gently caressed her cheek with the fingertips. "I'll see you tomorrow then. Around 10:00." "Rhys?" "Yes." "Just.....don't expect anything out of me. Not....not like before." He looked towards the sea. "I'd never impose myself on the bonds of holy matrimony, Rhiannon." She sighed and got up. "It's better if I go first. I'll see you tomorrow, Rhys Morgan." And with that she walked away.

How Rhiannon made it to the bottom of the staircase she never knew. She felt as if she had been thrown underwater and was struggling to rise to the surface to gasp a breath before reality dragged her below the surface again. "Captain Rhys Morgan, may I present my wife Lady Castlemaine." If Rhys showed any surprise, he certainly kept it hidden. He extended his hand and took hers into his. Drawing her hand to his mouth for a kiss, Rhys said, "A pleasure to meet you, Lady Castlemaine." Rhiannon fought hard to keep any emotions to herself. It was as if another person was saying the words she had repeated over and over at these balls and social functions Madoc was fond of hosting. "It is indeed a joy to meet you, Captain Morgan. Will you be in Beaumaris long?" Act! Act! The voice inside her head screamed. But her heart was telling her to throw herself in Rhys' arms and beg him to take her away with him. "Unfortunately I will be gone by the end of the week. I have other commitments that take precedence. Tying loose ends up and all that." "Will you be making port here again?" Please, Rhys, please! Take me with you! "I can't say, Lady Castlemaine. I am dispersing some merchandise and then will have to see what the future holds." The future holds me, Rhys. Me! Madoc watched with amusement and a sense of pride that Rhiannon could ask just the right questions. She had a blush on her face but that could be due to rushing around to get ready, he reasoned. Madoc slipped his arm around Rhiannon's waist in a proprietary sense. He could see that Rhys Morgan was intrigued by his lovely wife. And she was his. Madoc's and no one else's. He looked over and saw Lord Dimsworth. "Darling, I am sorry but I must see Lord Dimsworth about that stallion. He has offered it for sale and I intend to be the one who purchases him. Captain Morgan? I do hope we meet again before you sail off on your journeys." Rhiannon stood there not knowing what her role in this Greek tragedy was. Rhys extended his hand to her and bowed. "The quartet is playing. Would you honour me with a dance, Lady Castlemaine?" She heard the slight derision in his voice as he said her name. She tilted her chin up defiantly at that and said in a cultured voice, "I would be delighted, Captain Morgan." He led her out to the polished marble ballroom floor. Bowing to her, she gave him a curtsey and he took her in his arms but in a way that was all proper to the morals of the occasion. "You are looking well, Milady." Rhiannon looked up at him and gazed into his eyes. They had changed. Gone was the softness when he looked at her. It had been replaced with a hardness that was almost frightening to see. While he was still handsome, he had the edge of bitterness to his demeanor. "Thank you, Captain," she could barely utter. "Marriage seems to agree with you." Marriage to you, Rhys. That is what you promised me. She fought to keep the accusations to herself. "I wish I could say the same for you, Captain Morgan. Or has someone else stolen your heart?" The bitterness and invective tinged her voice. He smiled in faint amusement. "Why, Lady Castlemaine! That is a bold question from such a genteel lady. Are you asking me if I am in love with someone?" She said through clenched teeth, "I would like to know if I had been replaced." Just then Madoc came over to the couple. "Sir Morgan, would you mind if I took over the dance?" Rhys bowed. "Not at all. It was indeed a pleasure, Lady Castlemaine. And thank you for the stimulating conversation." Madoc raised his eyebrow as Rhiannon's face flushed. Rhys tipped his cavalier hat to them both and nodded to Rhiannon. "I shall bid you a good evening, Lady Castlemaine. I do hope you enjoy your...party." Madoc took Rhiannon in his arms and whirled her around the ballroom. "Interesting fellow, don't you think?" "Yes." "Imports all sorts of goods. Spices.....silks....coffee....gold..." She took a bold step. "If I didn't know better, Madoc, I would think he was a pirate." A slight smile played on Madoc's lips. "Pirate? Where would you get a notion like that?" "From what you are telling me he is dealing in." "No, my dear. No pirate. Just a merchant." "You don't socialize with the bourgeois class, Madoc." "It was just a business proposition, Lady Castlemaine. And may I remind you that your place is to look enchanting and not think so damn much?" Rhiannon pursed her lips. "Then you shall hear no more of it from me, Lord Castlemaine." The evening continued on with Rhiannon going through the motions. She made all the right replies, smiled in all the appropriate places yet her mind was in such turmoil that she was running on automatic. As soon as the last guest left, she mounted the staircase, heading for her bedroom. Madoc was right behind her. As she reached the door, she turned to him. "I'm really exhausted, Madoc." He opened the door for her and said, "I don't care if you are or not." And shut the door behind them. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "And how did ye grand old party go, Captain?" Rhys sat down at the tavern table and signaled for a tavern wench to bring him an ale. "Keep them coming until I either say no more or pass out. Whatever comes first, luv." He dropped a handful of coins onto her tray. Taking a deep drink, he looked at Dolan with a look that measured between derision and defeat. "It was a very enlightening party." "I'll bet. That bastard Castlemaine has high falutin' ways." "He recently got married." "Oh? Well, bet she is a proper lady to the manor born. About as much fun as a nun in a convent, I bet," Dolan snorted. "You got half that right." "Proper lady, huh? Knew it." "No, the convent part." "He married a nun?" "Not quite." "Rhys, you're speaking in riddles." Rhys looked at Dolan with a look that straddled heartbreak. "I found her." Dolan looked at him with a sinking feeling. "Her?" Even though he knew. "Rhiannon. The lovely Miss Conaway is now the blushing bride of one Lord Madoc Castlemaine." And with that, Rhys hurled his tankard against the mirror over the mantle, shattering it. The tavern went silent. Rhys stood up and threw a few gold coins on the tavern counter. "That should cover it. And if it doesn't....do send the bill to Castlemaine." And with that he walked out into the dark night.

The Absinthe Drinker by Viktor Oliva I love the stuff myself.

"Madoc, please--why do we have to have these constant social occasions?" "Because it is not only our social obligations, it is good business." "But I am tired of playing hostess to your stodgy old friends. Why can't I invite my sisters? At least there would be someone to laugh with. If I have to hear about Lady Crowley's gout or Lady Byerly's non-stop lying-ins, I will scream!" Madoc tied his cravat and looked at her in the mirror. "And isn't it about time you had something to contribute to their conversations?" Her face blushed. "I have no idea what you are talking about." "No? It should be about time your belly started to swell. We have been married for five months and yet no sign of the quickening of life." Rhiannon said indignantly, "I am NOT barren, if that is what you are implying. The time just hasn't been....right." Her eyes involuntarily darted to the small chest where a vial of herbs held the key to her 'barreness'. 'At least wait until I figure things out,' she reasoned. ' Until my heart heals.' Dealing with a pregnancy, a lying-in and the thoughts of a baby was something that Rhiannon just couldn't deal with at the moment. Madoc caressed her cheek. "No mind, we just have to make sure the time is right then." He traced his hand from her face to her chest. "Maybe accelerate the efforts then." Inside Rhiannon shuddered. Not that Madoc was clumsy or a bad lover. On the contrary, she did not like the way he made her feel. Her reluctant but obvious enjoyment made her feel disloyal to the one man her body still craved. The captain who betrayed her. The captain that left her to face the music and pick up the pieces. Alone. She gently took Madoc's hand and placed it away from her. "I have to get dressed for want of your 'social obligation.'" Madoc reached in the armoire and pulled out a dress of royal blue. "This is the dress you shall wear. With the matching sapphires to show your eyes to full advantage." She took the dress. "Is that all I am to you, Madoc? Decoration?" "Of course not. Everything that matters is what the Castlemaines can get. And more Castlemaines, of course. And when you do produce an heir--a son--you will be rewarded." "By the way, how goes the portrait? You find Monsieur Gerard enjoyable to work with?" Her face blushed. "Yes, I do. He is a delight." "I'm pleased. When shall it be finished?" She shrugged. "I'm not sure. You would have to ask him as I am not the artist." The portrait was taking longer than anticipated. In Monsieur Gerard, Rhiannon had found a lovely diversion. The flirting, the innuendoes... In her loneliness, Rhiannon found nothing wrong. After all, he was an artist. And French. A man to her Welsh eyes deemed to be 'forbidden fruit'. Yet he was entertaining to be with. Witty, charming....and very attractive. It was Rhiannon's way of dealing with the hurt that pierced her heart and the pain laid bare by Rhys Morgan's desertion. "We shall have another 'social engagement' as you like to call them when it is to be unveiled, Rhiannon." Her heart dropped as the portrait Madoc commissioned would not be what he expected. No piety. No drab, hand me down dress from the late Lady Castlemaine the First. But one of Rhiannon's own choosing. "...and I invited him." "I'm sorry, Madoc. What did you say?" "A merchant. Very profitable and successful in his own right. I invited him tonight. Just so you know when you see a strange face." 'Alright--now go so Rhoslyn can dress me." Rhoslyn came in with combs, brushes and scented lotions. As she brushed Rhiannon's hair, she gingerly approached a subject of a delicacy. "Ma'am, the portrait--you will take care that propriety and all due respect is accorded you?" "What do you mean, Rhoslyn?" "I mean...well...servants talk. And there is an exceptional amount of talk about Monsieur Gerard. The closed doors, the laughter....the whispers. You be careful of your station in life, Milady." Her worried eyes met Rhiannon's in the mirror. "Duly noted, Rhoslyn. And...thank you." She nodded. "Now, shall we try the ivory combs or the velvet band?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Madoc knocked at the door. "Rhiannon, are you almost ready?" "Come in, Madoc." Rhoslyn was finishing up the tightening of Rhiannon's lacings. Madoc looked her appreciatively up and down. "And you look every bit the lady of the manor." She groaned. "I don't WANT to look like the lady of the manor. I want to be the girl picking blueberries and wildflowers again, not talking to boring men. Like that merchant you invited. What am I supposed to talk to him about?" "Oh...silks, lace, spices....you can always find something to talk about, Rhiannon. Just don't act your age." The fact that she was thirty years younger than Madoc always smarted. He made her feel like such a child. "Now, shall we go downstairs to greet our guests?" She sighed. "If we must. Although I do feel a headache coming on..." Madoc held his arm out to her. She sighed and laid her hand on it as she had done so many times before for the social soirees. As they descended the stairs, Madoc said, "Ah! There he is. The merchant I was telling you about." Rhiannon looked down and felt as if her heart had stopped beating. She tried to catch her breath. At the foot of the stairs looking up at her was the last person she ever expected to see again in her life. Captain Rhys Morgan.

Beaumaris, Wales--July, 1652 "This way, Captain Morgan." The butler led Rhys to the library where he had met with Lord Madoc Castlemaine several times before. "Thank you. I hope he won't be long. I have business elsewhere to wrap up." "I'm sure he will be here shortly. Please, help yourself to the brandy." Rhys poured a generous snifter of brandy and surveyed the room. Something was different. Something was....missing. He looked up. The portrait of Lady Castlemaine was gone and in its stead was a huge empty wall. "Captain Morgan." He turned around to face Madoc Castlemaine, lord of the manor. The past few months had brought a cynicism to Rhys. Bitterness time had not managed to abate but intensify. He swirled his brandy nonchalantly. "Castlemaine." Madoc raised his eyebrow at the lack of title in Rhys' greeting but said nothing. "I trust the funds are in the bank as directed." "Yes, and no way to be traced to our....arrangement. Here is the receipt showing the deposit amount." Madoc took the receipt and looked at the figure. "I must say--I am impressed. The smuggling business must be paying off." Rhys took a deep drink of the brandy and said, "I've decided to concentrate on business rather than personal pursuits. And also to tell you this will be your last draft." Madoc sat back and steepled his fingers. "Well, I would say this demands an explanation. Have a seat, please." Rhys took the leather chair opposite the one that Madoc had indicated. It let Madoc know he was no longer acquiescing to him. And that he would no longer have any hold over him or his commerce. "I'm pulling out the goods and relocating to Jamaica." "Really. And why, may I ask? England, Wales and Scotland have need of your merchandise, you know. You have a good arrangement here." "England, Wales and Scotland no longer hold any interest for me. I have made arrangements elsewhere and find the Caribbean more suits my lifestyle now. I have inventoried all goods at face value and have calculated your percentage. The goods will be out at the end of the month and then it is 'nice doing business with you. Don't call me.' " Rhys rose to go. Madoc gave him a sardonic smile. "It's a woman, isn't it? You either are nursing a jilted heart or have something going on with a dusky beauty down in Jamaica. So which is it?" Rhys put on his cavalier hat. "That, Madoc, is my personal business. Not yours." Madoc looked at Rhys with faint amusement. "I think I just got my answer." Rhys turned to go and Madoc replied, "I'm having a soiree tonight. I'd be honoured if you would attend. My wife--" "Your wife?" "Yes, I've recently wed since we last saw each other." "That explains the absence of the first Lady Castlemaine's portrait. The new Lady C. found it disturbing?" "My wife has no say in the running of the household matters. She is here simply to be a hostess, keep me satisfied and provide me with heirs." "Well, that's a pretty tall order. I wish her the best then." "She's learning the first. The second is working quite well and the third will be a product of the second in no time at all. Shall we expect you this evening?" Rhys chuckled, "Sure. Why not? It may be entertaining to see how the other half lives."

Rhys sat on the boulder for an hour, just staring out to sea. She didn't wait for me...she's married... He repeated it like a mantra. Finally he stood up. His heart was heavy. Then he turned and headed for the tavern in port. The innkeeper came over to him. "What'll ye have, son?" Rhys said absentmindedly, "Hmmm? Ale. A tankard of ale." The innkeeper came back and put it down. "That be all?" "For now." Rhys sat there and drank his ale. He signaled for another one. The innkeeper's daughter, a pleasant girl named Sally, approached Rhys. She said shyly, "Can I get ye anything to eat?" Rhys shook his head. Sally leaned over. "Ye be alright?" "Don't think I ever will be." She sat down. "Ah, it be a girl ye be pinin' for..isn't it?" Rhys shook his head no. Need to play this one carefully, he thought. "I hear tell there was a fancy to-do wedding up at Conaway Manor a few weeks ago. One of Lord Conaway's daughters..which one was it again?" Sally said, "Oh, that be Miss Rhiannon. Funny thing about that, no one in the parish knew she was betrothed. It were one minute she be in the convent, the next she be getting wed. I hear tell he was a baron or something like that. Also, funny thing. The banns were not posted in the church. Yet she be married here." "And who did she marry?" "Not sure. But he's moneyed. Took their wedding trip to Scotland. So maybe he be a lairde there. Don't rightly know, just that she got wed and now she be settled somewhere." Rhys sat there brooding over the new information. Banns not posted? Who in hell did she marry? Damn Jack. Damn Jack Wolfe for screwing up his life. And damn the Morgan honour. Damn...everyone. And everything. Rhys stayed into the late night and drank himself into oblivion. He took a few bottles of whiskey and went to his room. He continued to drink until he passed out. And he continued this pattern for a week. Finally a knock on his door. "Go away." "No." "GO AWAY!" "If you don't open this door, then I am breaking it down, Rhys Morgan. And I'll have the innkeeper send you the bill." Dolan waited a minute and then he heard the latch. Rhys came to the door with bloodshot eyes and disheveled hair. He looked like he had slept in his clothes. Because he had. The quartermaster took one look at his captain and said quietly, "I heard." Rhys looked at him with red-rimmed eyes and the tears started to well. "I was late. Too late. TWO...DAMNED..WEEKS LATE!" He punctuated each word with a hole to the wall with his fist. Dolan gathered Rhys' things. "Come on." "What?" "Come on. We're going home." "Home? And where is that?" "Anywhere but here, Rhys."