Bertrice Small: A Moment in Time

Wynne shot her brother a warning look, but she was unable to restrain her mouth from turning up slightly at the corners, and he grinned mischievously back at her.

"What did he say?" Caitlin demanded.

"Nothing that concerns you," Wynne said with finality, firmly blocking the avenue to additional discord.

"I wonder when Rhys of St. Bride's will come courting Wynne," Dilys said.

"Must we speak of the lord of St. Bride's?" Wynne replied irritably.

"What is the matter with you?" Caitlin snapped at her eldest sister. "You act as if the devil himself is coming to woo you. Rhys of St. Bride's is said to be a fine figure of a man, not much past thirty. He's still young and vigorous. He's only had one wife, and there are no children from that marriage. It would be your son who would inherit St. Bride's! A rich and powerful man is coming to pay you suit, Wynne! By the blessed Christ, I wish it were me he were coming to see!"

"So do I," Wynne said quietly. "I have no wish for a husband at this time."

"Then you're a fool!" Caitlin raged at her. "You're fifteen, sister, and not getting any younger!"

"If you feel that strongly," Wynne replied, "I shall suggest a match between you and Rhys of St. Bride's, if it is indeed a wife that he comes seeking here."

"He won't have me," Caitlin said matter-of-factly and sounding extremely irritated by her own honest assessment of the situation.

"Nay, he will not," her sister answered, "and we both know why, don't we, Caitlin? It is for that reason that I will not wed any man until Dewi is grown and a father himself."

"But what about us?" Caitlin wailed. "Are we to be condemned to be old maids because you choose that path for yourself? That is selfish!"

"Enough!" Enid interjected sternly. "For shame, Caitlin! When have you ever known Wynne to be selfish? You are the selfish one in this family, and selfish enough for all of us, I might add. Between us, Wynne and myself, and our fine young lord of Gwernach, you and Dilys shall have good husbands."

"I do not want a good husband," Caitlin told her grandmother stubbornly. "I want a rich and powerful one!"

Wynne burst out laughing. "By the blessed rood, Caitlin, you are blunt."

"Good men are usually dull," Caitlin noted.

"But if he were a rich, good man," Wynne teased her, "would it make him more palatable for you?"

"She'd probably drive him to an early grave," Dewi noted sagely.

"Ahhh," Wynne chuckled, "then she would be a rich widow and could do just what she pleased. Would that not make you happy, Caitlin?"

"Only if I might take a lover," Caitlin said.

"What?!" Enid looked shocked. "What talk is this, granddaughter? What mischief have you been up to, my girl?"

"Oh, Grandmother, do not fret," Caitlin replied in bored tones. "I shall not throw my virginity away for a mere moment's passion when I can sell it to the highest bidder. Nonetheless, I am certain I shall very much appreciate the carnal relationship enjoyed by a husband and a wife. So much so that if I am widowed I shall not want to do without it. I am not like Wynne. All cool and distant. I am a creature of fire!"

"You are a bold baggage," Enid said, and she slapped Caitlin sharply on her cheek, but the girl just laughed mockingly at her grandmother as she rubbed the sting from her pretty, petulant face.

Dilys giggled foolishly at the exchange and was also slapped for her trouble. Her great blue eyes filled with tears that spilled down her pink cheeks.

"Go to your beds," Enid said wearily to the two girls. "You also, my precious boy," she told Dewi.

Without another word Caitlin arose and stalked proudly from the hall, Dilys hurrying in her wake. Dewi, however, arose from his place and kissed his eldest sister and his grandmother lovingly before taking his departure.

"She will come to a bad end," Enid predicted darkly of Caitlin.

"Nay, Grandmother," Wynne said gently. "It is just that she has suddenly discovered she has a woman's feelings within her. She wants to be her own mistress in her own home."

"But you do not," Enid said. "Why is that, my child?"

Wynne shook her head. "I dare not marry lest I endanger my brother," she said.

"You may fool the others with that tale," Enid said, "but you do not fool me. What is it? What is it that keeps you from seeking a husband, Wynne? I will not deny you that Rhys of St. Bride's motives in courting you are perhaps not as honest as we would have them; but there are others who would wed you for yourself and not Gwernach. Before my son died in that foolish accident, there were two who sought your hand in marriage, yet you would not have them. Why?"

Wynne sighed deeply, her long fingers worrying at the fabric of her tunic dress. "Am I a fool, Grandmother, to believe in true love in a world that makes marriage contracts based on rank, and wealth and expediency?" she said softly. "I cannot, it seems, be comfortable with the idea of giving myself to a man I do not love or respect; and yet that is not how things are done in our world, is it? Caitlin chides me with good reason, but I cannot change how I feel, and I do not believe I should have to, for marriage is a sacrament between God and man. It should be taken seriously, but how can I take it seriously if I marry simply to marry, and I am unhappy in my decision?"

Enid nodded understandingly. "I have had two husbands. The first one my father chose. Your grandfather was a wonderful man and I loved him. When he died I thought my world had ended. I remarried that your own father and mother not be burdened by me. That marriage was a mistake, and had Howel ap Merredydd not died of natural causes, I think I would have hastened his departure from this earth. He was a cruel man. You will get no argument from me, my child. If you would wed but for love alone, then follow your heart, say I!"

Wynne slipped from her chair to hug her grandmother, and the old woman stroked her hair lovingly. "You always understand me, Grandmother. You always have. Better than anyone else. Why is that?"

Enid chuckled. "You are like me, child. I see myself in you each day in so many ways." A small bubble of laughter escaped her. "You but see me as a white-haired old lady, but once I was young as you are young; and filled with the same fiery juices that you are filled with, though you are not yet aware of such things."

"Caitlin is, though she be younger than me," Wynne noted.

Enid made an impatient little noise. "Hummmph," she said. "Caitlin was born all-knowing. There are some women like that though they be few in number. They seem to understand certain things without even being told. Do not change! You, my child, are a true innocent and pure of heart."

Her grandmother's wise words pleased Wynne, although she did not really understand why. Still, they comforted her in the following weeks when the unceasing rains made it almost impossible to plant the grain; and then washed the first planting away entirely, making it necessary to replant.

"You see," Caitlin carped. "We need a man to run Gwernach."

"Do you think a man could force the rains to stop?" Wynne mocked her sister. "Do not be a fool! If you would be helpful, Caitlin, I suggest that you pray that the good weather holds until the grain has grown enough to withstand a heavy downpour."

Caitlin sent her sister a scathing look. "Better I pray that Rhys of St. Bride's makes his appearance soon," she retorted.

"Perhaps we should pray he doesn't find a more suitable bride," Dilys said fatuously.

"Or that he breaks his bloody neck before he can come to bother our sister," Dewi said wickedly, and Wynne burst out laughing.