PRELUDE TO EL LOBO DEL MAR

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Fourteen Months Later...

It was a muggy June evening, and the Dog and Doublet was standing room only with patrons.  The harbour was choked with a dozen or more ships, and it seemed as if every sailor had descended on this one tavern.  Laughter and loud conversation filled the air, competing with the off-key stylings of a drunken fiddler.  Nobody knew who he was or how to get him to stop playing, so the general consensus was to let him keep drinking until he couldn't hold on to his fiddle any longer.  Pip made her way through the pressing throng as quickly as she could, her face only a few shades lighter than her hair.  Once she got to the bar, she slammed her tray down, glaring at it with gritted teeth.
"What the hell's got you in a snit?" asked Benny.
Pip ignored him and looked over at Grace, who was filling some tankards with ale.  "I swear to God above, the next tarry son of a whore that pinches my bum or tries to grab anything else is gonna get his teeth knocked out!"
"They're a grabby lot tonight, that's for certain!" agreed Grace.
"It's like a bloody sea of hands out there!" said Pip.  "And if they're not grabbing low, they're pawing high.  I've never seen it this bad!"
"Oh, quit your complaining," Benny said.  "You're making plenty of tip money, yeah?  What's a little pinch or slap?"
"I'd like to put you in a dress and shove you into the middle of them," grumbled Pip.  "You'd sing a different tune!"
Benny threw up his hands.  "What do you want me to do?  Throw them all out for being men?"
"You could be a little sympathetic for a change," said Grace.
"All right then.  I'm sorry you got your bum pinched in the line of duty.  Feel better?"
"Yeah, I feel right cheery about it now," laughed Pip.  "God, you're useless!"
"I don't know," teased Grace.  "I think he'd look pretty in a frilly dress and pigtails.  And this lot is so drunk, they'd never know the difference!"

Benny tried not to look uncomfortable at being the butt of their joke as Grace and Pip laughed and giggled.  But Pip's laughter was cut short as a pair of arms snaked around her waist from behind and pulled her backwards into their owner.  She could smell rum on his breath, and could feel the butt of a pistol poking into her.  At least she hoped it was his pistol.
"'Allo, lovely," he said in a boozy slur.  "How I've missed you!"
Pip pulled away from her assailant, grabbed her tray off the counter, and swung it hard against the man's head with a loud crack.  He stumbled backward holding his face in pain.
"Damn it, Pip!" he howled.  "I was trying to say hello!"
Her mouth fell open, and she dropped what was left of the tray to the floor.  That voice!  She knew it.  But it couldn't be!
"J- Jack?  Jack Wolfe?  Is it you?" she stammered.
"Who the hell were you expecting?  King Charles himself?"  Jack straightened up and checked his nose to see if it was broken, then worked his jaw.  "Whoever said only goodbyes are painful never met you!"
"JACK!" she shouted joyfully, and launched herself at him.  Jack quickly found himself on the receiving end of a warm and lingering kiss.
"Did you miss me?" he asked breathlessly.
Pip promptly slapped him hard across the face.
"What was that for?!"
"For dying, you jackass!"

Jack gave her a puzzled look, and pointed back over his shoulder.  "Know what?  I'm gonna go out and come back in, and maybe you'll start making sense.  Where in the world did you ever get the idea I was dead?"
Pip stood with a fist planted on her cocked hip and glared at him.  "First, your ship doesn't show up when it was supposed to, leaving everyone, including my dad, scrambling to find buyers for their tin.  Months go by, and not even so much as a letter from you.  Then two men came in, talking about how the Laura Anne was taken by some pirate named Steely Pete Harper, or something..."
"Iron Will Harkness," Jack corrected.
"Like I give a damn?" she snapped.  "They said that any man who wouldn't join him was as good as dead.  You always did say how much you hate pirates and would never be one, so what was I supposed to think after hearing that?"
Jack took a step back, and with a smile he spread his arms.  "Take a look.  What do you see?"
In the heat of the moment, Pip hadn't really paid much attention his appearance, just that he was alive and well.  Jack's hair was now shoulder length, hanging in loose curls.  He sported a goatee that gave him a slightly sinister look.  The man who had been loathe to carry a knife now openly displayed a pistol and cutlass, and something told her there were a god many more blades hidden on his person.  His clothes were very different from what she remembered.  Gone were simple shoes, slops, and short jacket.  Instead he wore a loose shirt of silk, a long waistcoat, a heavy belt that served as a holster for his pistol, cotton breeches, and expensive looking tall boots.  Gone was the young sailor she had known.  Jack had become more than just a little rough around the edges.  He had become a pirate.

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Pip's eyes narrowed in disdain.  "You idiot."
"Now that's not the Pip I remember," he said with a hint of disappointment in his voice.  "When did you become so judgemental?"
"When I discovered you sold out."
"We need to talk, then."
"I'm busy."
Jack dug in his pocket and put some coins on the counter.  "Here you are, Benny.  She's done for the night."
Benny picked up the coins and rattled them in his hand.  "It's a busy night."
Jack rolled his eyes and put a few more coins in Benny's hand.  The tavern owner raised an eyebrow, then looked at Pip.  "I think we'll manage.  Off you go."
Jack took Pip by the elbow to lead her to a table, but she jerked her arm away from him.  He held his hands up in acquiescence.
"All right, fine, we'll do it your way."
Jack followed her to a corner table where it wasn't quite so noisy.  She took a seat, and he sat down beside her.  He tried to disarm her with his best charming grin, but Pip met him with a stony glare.
"Well, this is cozy," he said, trying to lighten the mood.  "Miss me?"
"I thought you were dead," she replied curtly.
"You sound disappointed that I'm not."
Pip shook her head slowly.  "I waited for you, Jack.  Every morning I thought, 'This will be the day he comes strolling through my door with some wonderful story about where he's been.'  You never did.  And each day, it hurt a little more.  Then I heard about your ship being taken my this Harkness fellow.  They told me you were dead, and I went numb.  Now, after all this time, just as I start to feel again, you finally come strolling through my door.  How am I supposed to feel?"
"Happy, perhaps?  You find out after a year--"
"Fourteen months, eleven days, and a handful of hours."
"-- fourteen months that I'm alive and well!  I should think that would worth more than snarling at me.  Or would you feel better if I had died?"
"No, of course not.  It's just that..."  She took a deep breath.  "It took a long time to let go of your memory, Jack.  I suppose I'm in shock."
Jack gave her a quizzical look.  "You... Pip, I had no idea you felt that way about me."
Her eyes went wide.  "Whoa, Nelly!  Don't get any ideas I was in love with you, sailor boy!  I missed your library, that's all.  Fine, our talks, too."
"That's all you missed?" he asked with a mischievous smile.  "What about after the talks?"
Pip's face turned instantly crimson, and she burst into giggles.  "Yeah, I missed that, too!"  But her laugher quickly faded, and she leaned on the table and rested her chin in her palm.  "What happened, Jack?"
Jack sighed and leaned back in his chair.  "Like you heard, we got taken by pirates.  By Will Harkness himself.  Probably the most notorious pirate in the Caribbean.  Certainly the most successful."
"You sound like you admire him."
"You'd be right."
"I don't understand.  You hated pirates."
"I did.  But some of the men told Harkness I knew a thing or two about ship building.  I struck a bargain to help Harkness modify his ship in exchange for keeping Josiah alive."
Her face lit up.  "Briggs is alive?  Oh, thank goodness!"
"He's done too much to keep my sorry hide safe, so I couldn't very well abandon him.  But Will took me under his wing.  And as irony would have it, I'm a pretty good pirate!"  Jack laughed and shook his head.  "Who'd have thought?  But the life suits me, Pip.  As strange as it may sound, I like it."
"If only those stuffed shirts at Cambridge could see you now!"
"Oi!  Oxford, thank you!"
"I'm sorry!" she laughed.  "I get those two mixed up!"

Jack tilted his head and smiled.  "I have missed you, Pip.  Have you kept up your studies?"
"Of course I have!  Just because you were out of the picture didn't mean my dreams went with you.  My eyes are still down the road, as my dad is so fond of saying.  I just have to get my feet to follow."
"What would it take?"
Pip gave him a suspicious look.  "Some place far from here, with something I can call my own."
"Then I have just the thing."
"Oh, I have to hear this."
"During my travels, I managed to win a business in a game of dice.  I haven't the foggiest what to do with it, and I don't want to go through the bother of selling the thing.  What I need  is someone to run it."
"I'll bite.  Just where is this business?"
"Bridgetown, Barbados.  About as far away as you can get from Cornwall and still hear your mother tongue."
"And the nature of this business?"
Jack shifted in his chair and looked at the table.  "A brothel," he said quietly.
"Come again?"
He sighed and looked her in the eyes.  "A brothel."
Pip stared at him, open-mouthed.  "Are you out of your bleedin' mind?!  Me, a madame?  What if my parents found out?"
"It's over three month's sail from here to there.  It's not like they can nip off round the corner and find you."
"I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted."
"Flattered!  You were the first person I thought of."
"'Oh my, I just won a whorehouse.  Whatever should I do?  Wait!  Pip would be perfect to run it!'  Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm insulted."
"Oh, don't be so melodramatic.  Frankly, I don't care what you do with it.  Leave it a brothel, turn it into a coffee house, it doesn't matter.  But think of it, love.  It's something you can make your own, far away from here.  That's what you want most, isn't it?"
Pip crossed her arms and thought for a few moments.  "How many other houses are there?"
Jack fought back a smile.  "Two.  This one is supposed to be the classiest in all of Barbados."
She thought some more, tapping her heel as she did so.  "The classiest, you say?"
"The best."
"Hmph.  It would be a shame to turn it into a coffee house if it's the best."
"That's entirely up to the proprietor."
"What's in it for you?"
"A minimal stake.  15%.  That keeps me a minority stakeholder, which means you, or whoever, calls the shots."
"I'd get free run?"
"Totally free.  And at 15% share, I can assure you stay afloat."
"So you're saying I can't lose?"
"Now would I let that happen?" Jack smiled.
"You're making this sound very enticing."
"What a relief!  I meant to."
Pip thought about it a bit more, then hit the table with her open hand.  "Let's do it."
"What, right here?  In front of all these people?  The scandal!"
"Be serious for half a moment, could you?  I mean yes, I'm accepting your business offer!"

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack grinned.  "Yes!  I knew you couldn't pass up a good offer!  There's only one problem."
"A problem?  You're telling me now?"
"It's your name."
She looked at him and blinked.  "My name?  What the hell is wrong with my name?"
"Well, think of it.  Pip Woolston.  You'll need a fancier name than that.  You can't run a proper brothel as Pip Woolston from Cornwall.  People would be expecting sheep in the parlour."
"Listen here, mister minority stakeholder..."
"All I'm suggesting – suggesting, mind you – is that we give you a name befitting your proprietorship, yeah?  And the upside is that with a fake name, your parents would never be the wiser in the unlikely chance someone should walk into your dad's tin shop and start extolling the virtues of Barbados' bawdy houses."
Pip thought about it for a second, and burst out laughing.  "All right, smart guy!  What kind of name do you suggest?"
Jack tapped his finger to his lips as he thought.  "Something exotic, something madamely-sounding...  something French.  That's it!  Madame Renee.  Madame Renee de Bertrand.  How does that sound?"
"Ooh, I think I fancy that!  Madame Renee de Bertrand.  I do like the sound of it!  What's it mean?"
"Beats me, I just made it up!"
"Well, I like it!"
"Wonderful!" said Jack.  "You'd best wrap things up here as soon as you can.  We leave day after tomorrow."
Pip's mouth fell open.  "Now, just a minute!  This is awfully fast..."
"That's when I sail, love.  And if you're going to take this opportunity, you have to be aboard my ship."
"But, my parents... and Benny!  Someone's got to look after that useless lump."
Jack looked at her sadly.  "I'm sorry.  I thought you were serious.  It's a hard thing, really going after your dreams.  Forget I asked."  He pushed back from the table and started to get up.
"Wait!" she exclaimed.  "I-- I do want to come along."
He settled back into his chair.  "Then come with me.  You'll be under my protection.  The captain's woman.  You'll be untouchable."
"The... 'captain's woman'?"
"Yeah, didn't I mention?  I've got my own ship!  And it's magic.  It's going to take you to your dreams, Madame Renee de Bertrand!"

Renee smiled as she though back to those days, and how eagerly she grabbed hold of the chance Jack had given her.  She pushed the last lock-box into place and ran her hand over the counter.
"What, you going to hang about all day smiling at me, Josie?" she asked with a playful lilt.  "Or is there something here of mine you'd like?"
The entendre sent Briggs into a full blush, complete with nervous laughter.  "Um, I, ah, no...  I mean, yes!" he stumbled.  "For Jack, I mean!  He's in need of water, and the pitcher's run dry."
"Has it, then?" she asked.  "I don't see a pitcher in your hands.  Plan on carrying the water in your pockets?"
A look of embarrassed shock came over Briggs' face.  "Damn!  I plum forgot to bring the thing!  I'll go and fetch it."
"Hold on, love," Renee said quickly.  She picked up a fresh pitcher from the table and sauntered toward him, her eyes locked on his the entire time.  Briggs watched as she approached, totally mesmerised, unable to look away from her.  It was only after she pressed the pitcher against his chest that he remembered to breathe.   

"I know you're good for the other one.  Not like I don't know where to find you, right?"
"Oh, I'm pretty easy to find, for you anyway," Briggs said absently.
Renee smiled and gave him a wink.  "Keep talking like that, Josie, and I'll take you up on it!"
Briggs swallowed hard, and backed up.  "Um, yes ma'am!  I'd like that!  I mean... I'd best get this up to Jack!  Thank ye, ma'am!"
He beat a hasty retreat up the stairs.  Renee watched him as he went, and smiled to herself.
"You know, Mister Josiah Briggs, I think I just might do that..."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Three weeks later...

Rhys quietly closed the back door to Renee's house and looked around.  Everyone was either in the front parlour or otherwise occupied, save Doctor Gander.  He was sitting at the table with his back to Rhys, making notes in a leather-bound book.  Not wanting to disturb him, Rhys turned to walk to the stairs.
"Come to see Jack, Rhys?" asked Duckie.
"How did you know it was me?  You never looked up."
Duckie finished a notation and turned around in his seat.  "You come here nearly every day to see him, and always at the same time."
"God, have I become that predictable?"
"Everyone has routines.  It's perfectly normal.  But today is a bit different, isn't it?"
Rhys' shoulders slumped a little.  "Briggs told you?"
"Of course.  But don't worry, no one has told Jack.  That's up to you."
"Lucky me.  How is he today?"
"Doing fine!  In good spirits, as usual.  Renee tells me he still cries out from night terrors, though.  Not that he'll ever admit it.  His body is healing exceptionally well.  The psychological scars, however..."  Duckie drew in a breath and sighed.  "Time will tell.  Wounds to the heart and mind can be just as devastating as wounds to the body.  More so in some cases, because they are insidious.  You can see a bodily wound, and that makes them simple to treat in comparison.  I'm afraid we have yet to discover how much Mendoza really injured Jack."
"How do you think he'll take the news?"
"If you're looking for the perfect time to tell him, Rhys, don't waste your time.  It will never come.  The question is, how much longer can you wait?"
"I can't decide if you're a better philosopher or physician, Duckie."
"I'm just a simple healer, nothing more.  Now, go tell him, before you talk yourself out of it again."
Rhys gave a wan smile, then turned and went up the stairs to Jack's room.

Jack heard a knock at his door.  Quickly, he set his book aside and got up from the bed.  He hastily poured a glass of rum and took a seat at the table.
"Come in?"
The door opened, and Rhys stepped in.  "Hello, Jack.  Good to see you up and about."
"Rhys!" Jack exclaimed happily.  "I was just about to indulge.  Please, join me!"
He poured another glass as Rhys sat down.
"Duckie says I'll be strong enough to go back to the ship in a week," said Jack.  "God, I can hardly wait to be aboard her again!  Now, I've been thinking – and trust me, I've had far too much time to do that – about what our next target should be.  How does Guadeloupe sound?  Poorly defended and not terribly rich, but enough of a statement to let the world know I'm back, and good as ever!  What say you?"
Rhys looked at his friend, and thought about Duckie's words.  Jack was animated to the point of being almost manic.  Rhys felt a twinge of pity for him, something he never thought he'd ever feel for this man.  It certainly didn't make his next words any easier to deliver.
"I'm sorry, Jack.  I can't."
"What do you mean, you can't?  Did your ship sink overnight?"
"No," said Rhys.  "I hate to tell you this, I really do.  But I have to leave."
"Nonsense!  You just got here.  Haven't even touched your rum."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it."  Rhys paused and took a deep breath to compose himself.  "This is why I came back to the Caribbean in the first place.  To tell you I'm leaving the life behind, for good.  I'm signing over the smuggling business to you, effective immediately.  Then I'm sailing home to Wales."
"What, you sailed all the way here to tell me you're homesick?  Why didn't you save yourself the trouble and stay there?" asked Jack, his voice becoming agitated.
"Because I had to do right by you.  We're business partners and friends, and that means something.  But now I have to leave this world behind, and go back home."
"What the hell is there that's more important than riches here?"
Rhys took a sip of rum.  "Rhiannon.  She's all the riches I need."

Jack could scarcely believe what he was hearing. 
"Oh, of course.  That girl you keep moping about.  Rhys, mate!  You know yourself there's a killing to be made there!  The Spanish can't move fast enough to protect themselves, and the Dutch are becoming nearly as vulnerable."  He looked intently at Rhys and leaned forward.  "I've been tracking Dutch East India Company shipping for several months now.  Less the time I lost to that foolishness with Mendoza, of course.  It set my timetable back, but I'm certain I'm on the verge of a major haul, too much even for me to spend in a lifetime if I play it right.  And there's no one I'd rather share it with.  It's the least I can do after you saved my life."

[Captain Jack Wolfe]

Jack looked hard into his friend's eyes.  "Rhys, our business venture has been wildly profitable.  Just think of it; in less than two years, most likely sooner, you could be wealthy enough to set up a fine life for yourself and- what's her name again?  Rebecca?  No, that's not it.  Not enough consonants."
"Rhiannon.  And I don't have that kind of time anymore, Jack"
"Well, if she's half as in love with you as you are with her, she'll wait."
"That's the problem.  She's been waiting.  I promised I'd be back in Wales by now to marry her.  I'm months overdue as it stands," said Rhys longingly.
"There's the problem with falling in love, my friend.  It makes you lose your mind and rush off to stick your head in a noose."  Jack poured them both some rum.  "Where is your young bride to be?  Still at home under her mother's wing?"
Rhys shook his head.  "Her mother died when she was a little girl.  Not long after, her father sent her away."
"To boarding school?"
"To... a convent," fidgeted Rhys.

Jack looked at him and blinked.  "You're kidding."
Rhys shook his head.
"Wales is far more progressive than I thought.  How does that work?  You walk up to the door and ask 'I'm looking for a girl.  How are you for blondes this week?'"
"You can see now why I never told you this."  Rhys sighed and rubbed his eyes.  "We met on a hillside overlooking the harbour at Beaumaris  It's up in the north of Wales."
"I've been there, several years ago.  Nice place.  Never made it past the taverns, though.  A shame, that.  Sounds like the real treasure was in the countryside."
Rhys ignored Jack's characteristically flip attitude.  "Anyway, I was on a hillside, sketching ships and the water.  To clear my head, you know?  You've seen me do it a thousand times.  She was there as well with her dog, writing poetry."
"So one thing lead to another, and you showed her your etchings?"
"We struck up a friendship, and it became much more over time."
"So, what's the plan?  Divest your holdings here, sail back home, and spring her from the convent?  An elopement?"
"Something like that.  Lord Conaway would never agree to me marrying her."  A look came into Rhys' eyes that made Jack pause.
"Oh, please!  You're going to steal her away from Sister Mary Monstrosity and Rhiannon's father?    To think they call me mad..."
"What would you have me do, then?"
Jack leaned forward and looked his old friend in the eyes.  "I'd say 'sod it all' and set my sights back on the Caribbean.  Rhys, you've seen the incredibly beautiful women here.  You'll forget about her in no time."
Rhys shook his head.  "You don't understand, Jack.  Rhiannon is... she's everything.  There's not a moment goes by that I don't think about her.  I wish there was a way to make you understand why I have to go.  But you've obviously never been in love."

Jack paused for a moment mid-drink.  "Don't be so sure of yourself, Cambridge."
"Oh, right," Rhys laughed.  "I've seen you in action, my friend.  You don't let a woman get close enough.  You see women as a diversion.  Playthings.  'Unprofitable enterprises,' you've said before.  I can no sooner see you falling in love that I can imaging my living without Rhiannon."
"A bit of advice, Rhys.  England is in turmoil.  This Lord Conaway, he's watching his wealth and status evaporate in front of his eyes.  Now you want to spirit away his daughter?  He may not consciously think of her as a possession, but that's what she is to him now.  One more thing to try and hang on to.  A man in his position is dangerous.  You keep down this path, you're likely to end up getting yourself killed.  Or worse, heartbroken."
"Rhiannon would never do anything to break my heart."
Jack leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.  "She's really worth the risk?  Worth walking away from this life for one of domesticity?"
"Jack, if you even met her, even your ice cold heart would melt."
"My heart's not nearly as icy as you think.  All the same, I doubt it."

Rhys finished off the last of his rum.  "I'm sorry, Jack.  I'm sure this looks like a foolish move, like I'm cutting and running.  But it's something I have to do."
"Of course it's foolish.  But I have a soft spot for outlandish plans that haven't an ounce of good sense behind them.  And while I am sorry you won't stay here, it's just that much more swag for me," smiled Jack.  "It's been a good run, yeah?  So when do you set sail for Wales to enact your grand plan?"
"Tomorrow.  It's going to work, Jack.  It has to."
"I'm sure it will," Jack said with mock sincerity.  "It has success written all over it.  Have you decided where you'll go once you rescue your damsel from the monsters?  You'll need a place to start anew."
"I have a few places in mind.  Why, do you have a suggestion?"
Jack stamped the floor with his heel. "Right here, in Barbados.  Her father will never think to look for the two of you this far away from Wales.  It's the perfect place to disappear and start a new life.  In face, I'll personally guarantee your safety.  Call it a wedding gift."
"Thank you, Jack," said Rhys.  "Don't be surprised when we show up on your doorstep."
"And miss out on the chance to help Mr. and Mrs. Smith, the newlyweds?  In fact, I'm looking forward to it."

[Welsh Wench]

Beaumaris, Wales--April 1652

The Neptune Rising pulled into the harbour of Beaumaris as the dawn's light was breaking through the indigo sky. Rhys shouted out his commands as they brought the ship into the dock.
Dolan stood at the gunwale and looked at his friend.  Never before had Rhys Morgan seemed so antsy to leave his ship.
Finally Rhys joined him. Breathing the salt air, Rhys smiled at his quartermaster.
"Ahh! The sweet smell of Wales!"
Dolan smirked. "I'd say we could be anywhere she was and you would say the same."
Rhys shielded his eyes and looked towards the port.
"I know she will understand once I explain what happened."
"You honestly think so?"
Rhys shook his head. "No. No, I don't. Hopefully she won't be too upset. I'll take a room at the inn and then I'll wait for her gypsy friend Athena to get word to her to meet me on the bluffs. Then we head off to my father's estate and properly wed her. And then off to Cambridge to resume my studies and live a happily ever after."
"You think Jack is doing alright?"
"He was the last we left him. Weak as a kitten but Dr Gander said with the care Renee will give him, he will be on the mend. Don't know about his mental state though."
"I thought you said he was 'Mad Jack' anyways."
Rhys looked out over his ship. "An experience like that has to change you. It would anyone. Whether it will make him more introspective or reckless, only time will tell."
Dolan lit his pipe. "I know it changed me. How can one man be such a monster?"
"Power. Someone must have told him that he was put in that position by God. And he believed it."
"Heard he was a Castilian."
"Yeah. Full of himself. Probably descended from Joanna the Mad. Totally bonkers, that one. Obsessed with her husband. And Diego was totally obsessed with Mercedes."
"Where is the doxy now?"
"Divides her time between that fortress but escapes to Havana when she can."
"Well, I hope Jack pulls out of it all with minimal scarring. Both mentally and physically."
"Time will tell, Dolan. Time will tell."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His ship was docked, the men were given shore leave for a week.  Rhys knew that Dolan would take care of the ship and the men would be loyal to him.
He stopped in front of the grey stone cottage, anticipation that perhaps by day's end, Rhiannon would be lying in his arms in the room he booked.
Knocking on the door, it was opened by a beautiful gypsy girl.
"Are you Athena?"
She nodded. "And you are Rhys Morgan. Rhiannon described you perfectly. Right down to the sun streaks in your hair and the eyes she said were the colour of the sea. But you were supposed to be here at the end of December, Rhys Morgan!"
He sighed.
"I know. I ran into a complication where lives were at stake. Is she really upset?"
Athena shrugged. "Well, it's hard to---"
"I'll make it up to her, I swear. Would you be able to get word to her today at the convent?"
Athena shook her head. "She's not there."
"What do you mean, she's not there?"
Athena sighed. "You had better come in, Rhys Morgan."

Rhys followed Athena into the parlor. The cottage was immaculate, the smell of patchouli and sandalwood filling the air.
"Please sit down."
Rhys sat and took off his hat, twisting it in his hands.
"But she is well, isn't she?"
Athena poured a glass of wine for Rhys and handed it to him.
"She's gone."
"Yes, you said that. Now where is she? Back with her father?"
The gypsy shook her head. "I don't know where she is."
"But...but you go to the manor, don't you?"
She nodded.
"I do. I hate to have to tell you this, Rhys. But when you didn't come back, the Mother Superior found out about the two of you and sent Rhiannon home in disgrace. I saw her when I went there to drop off the season's vintage of wine. And I saw what I hoped was not true."
"You are speaking in riddles, Athena. Please! Tell me where she may be and I will find her."
Athena took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"Rhiannon Conaway was being fitted for her wedding dress."

Rhys caught the goblet right before it slipped out of his hands.
"She--she--what?"
"She was getting married."
"But...when?"
"About three weeks ago."
"Then I have time to get her. Would you please go and tell her I am here?"
Athena shook her head no.
"It's too late."
Rhys turned pale. "What do you mean....too late?"
"She was married two weeks ago."

Rhys was hearing the words that Athena was telling him but it sounded far away. Like it was happening to someone else and he was eavesdropping.
"...and when I saw her, she wouldn't look me in the eyes. I never saw her again. And I haven't been able to find out who she married or where she is. I'm sorry, Rhys. I really am."

[Welsh Wench]

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."

[Welsh Wench]

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."

[Welsh Wench]

"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?"

[Welsh Wench]

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.

[Welsh Wench]

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.

[Welsh Wench]

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.

[Welsh Wench]

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.

[Welsh Wench]

"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 sort of 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 have 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.

[Welsh Wench]

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!"