My lady does not trust many, but in me she knows she has a true friend.'
'True friends are hard to come by,' Morgan said, thinking briefly of the one he had left behind at Glyndyfrwdy.
'That is true, sir,' Alicia replied and smiled. 'My lady said that if her lord refused you board here I was to give you money. If you would prefer…'
'No. I thank your lady, but it is service I look for not coin.'
Alicia nodded, looking at him curiously. 'Are you truly Welsh, sir? I had thought they were all wild barbarians.'
Morgan grinned at her. 'Am I not a barbarian then?'
'I do not think so, sir,' she replied a smile on her lips. 'This is the first time I have accompanied my lady to this part of England. Until she married we lived in Winchester with her father. My lady did not take me with her when she was first wed, though she sent for me when she learned that we were to come here.'
'I thought your lady was familiar with Wales and its inhabitants?'
'She has been to Wales before as a child,' Alicia replied. 'It was her father who brought her then I believe. My lady's mother was Welsh, though she does not like to speak of it for it does not please Sir Philip to have the connection. My lady holds lands in Wales that came to her from her mother – though I suppose they belong to her husband now. That is the custom, is it not?'
'That is the custom,' Morgan agreed, warming to the talkative girl.
'It is perhaps unfair but such is the way of things.'
'Yes, it is the way of things,' Alicia agreed and sighed. 'A woman must trust the man she marries, for he may do as he will with her afterwards – unless she has friends. At least Lady Rosamund has a friend in the King.
'I am glad to hear that,' Morgan said. 'I believe Richard is expected back from Ireland soon?'
'As to that, I would not know, sir.' Alicia frowned as if realising that perhaps she had said too much. 'Sit here by the fire, sir, and I shall bring you food and drink. Tonight we shall feast in the hall but I dare say you would like to break your fast now?'
'Yes, that would be kind,' Morgan said, watching as she walked away. He had learned much from the girl in a few seconds, and he believed she would be an invaluable source of information in the future.
THREE
Rosamund glanced at her reflection in her handmirror of burnished silver and dark glass, seeing herself only as a blurred image. She knew that she was considered beautiful, for she had been told so many times in those happy days when she had been favoured at King Richard's court. She sighed and laid down her mirror, feeling the mantle of sadness descend on her once more. That time of excitement and pleasure when she had ridden often at the King's side seemed so long ago now, though it was no more than a year since she had been wed to Sir Philip de Grenville.
How often she had wished that her father, Sir Harald Clare of Winchester had chosen otherwise in the matter of her marriage, but she knew that he had been ailing and had sought to protect her. Sir Philip had seemed a man of culture and learning, as indeed he was, and Rosamund's father had believed him kind. Rosamund herself had been deceived by his gentle manner towards her then, making no protest when told of her father's decision. That deception had lasted no longer than her wedding night, when her husband had taken her with a cold detachment that made her weep bitter tears into her bed cushions long after he had left her. She knew then that he had married her only for the fortune she was to inherit on her father's death, which had followed her wedding all too soon.
'True friends are hard to come by,' Morgan said, thinking briefly of the one he had left behind at Glyndyfrwdy.
'That is true, sir,' Alicia replied and smiled. 'My lady said that if her lord refused you board here I was to give you money. If you would prefer…'
'No. I thank your lady, but it is service I look for not coin.'
Alicia nodded, looking at him curiously. 'Are you truly Welsh, sir? I had thought they were all wild barbarians.'
Morgan grinned at her. 'Am I not a barbarian then?'
'I do not think so, sir,' she replied a smile on her lips. 'This is the first time I have accompanied my lady to this part of England. Until she married we lived in Winchester with her father. My lady did not take me with her when she was first wed, though she sent for me when she learned that we were to come here.'
'I thought your lady was familiar with Wales and its inhabitants?'
'She has been to Wales before as a child,' Alicia replied. 'It was her father who brought her then I believe. My lady's mother was Welsh, though she does not like to speak of it for it does not please Sir Philip to have the connection. My lady holds lands in Wales that came to her from her mother – though I suppose they belong to her husband now. That is the custom, is it not?'
'That is the custom,' Morgan agreed, warming to the talkative girl.
'It is perhaps unfair but such is the way of things.'
'Yes, it is the way of things,' Alicia agreed and sighed. 'A woman must trust the man she marries, for he may do as he will with her afterwards – unless she has friends. At least Lady Rosamund has a friend in the King.
'I am glad to hear that,' Morgan said. 'I believe Richard is expected back from Ireland soon?'
'As to that, I would not know, sir.' Alicia frowned as if realising that perhaps she had said too much. 'Sit here by the fire, sir, and I shall bring you food and drink. Tonight we shall feast in the hall but I dare say you would like to break your fast now?'
'Yes, that would be kind,' Morgan said, watching as she walked away. He had learned much from the girl in a few seconds, and he believed she would be an invaluable source of information in the future.
THREE
Rosamund glanced at her reflection in her handmirror of burnished silver and dark glass, seeing herself only as a blurred image. She knew that she was considered beautiful, for she had been told so many times in those happy days when she had been favoured at King Richard's court. She sighed and laid down her mirror, feeling the mantle of sadness descend on her once more. That time of excitement and pleasure when she had ridden often at the King's side seemed so long ago now, though it was no more than a year since she had been wed to Sir Philip de Grenville.
How often she had wished that her father, Sir Harald Clare of Winchester had chosen otherwise in the matter of her marriage, but she knew that he had been ailing and had sought to protect her. Sir Philip had seemed a man of culture and learning, as indeed he was, and Rosamund's father had believed him kind. Rosamund herself had been deceived by his gentle manner towards her then, making no protest when told of her father's decision. That deception had lasted no longer than her wedding night, when her husband had taken her with a cold detachment that made her weep bitter tears into her bed cushions long after he had left her. She knew then that he had married her only for the fortune she was to inherit on her father's death, which had followed her wedding all too soon.
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