Page 243 of The Daughters of Avalon
What if she refused his dictate and walked away—down those stairs, out the door—would he prevent her?
There was only one way to find out, but the longer she stood gaping at the unguarded doorway, the more ambivalent she was.
Her mother had arrived.
To see her wed?
If so, what would be the impetus for Cael to release her now? Did he so much loathe the thought of wedding her?
Perhaps so, but she realized that merely wedding her would never assure him the stewardship of Blackwood. Cael must realize this as well. And if not, he was deaf, because she had told him so at least a thousand times. Blackwood was always meant to go to King Henry’s favorite, Elspeth. Certainly, King Stephen might be inclined to ignore his uncle’s decree, but Rhiannon was neither the eldest Pendragon, nor was she herself of any royal blood—leastways not English.
And yet, she had no doubt about Cael’s ambitions. He coveted Wales, and Stephen had already promised the duchy to him, so long as he maintained Blackwood in good standing. Whether Rhiannon was elder born or nay, she was Welsh by blood, and with the strength of their alliance, he might, indeed, continue to keep the Welsh rebels at bay.
The last thing Stephen needed was to bleed his coffers dry putting down unnecessary rebellions, and the last thing anyone needed was for the Welsh to resume their hostilities. As it was, her mother kept them appeased with her promises.
Thus said, Cael shouldn’t be so quick to release his best claim to Blackwood, a daughter of the Pendragon line. After all, Blackwood belonged toherfamily, and if Cael couldn’t manage to secure the eldest Pendragon as a bride, Rhiannon would be the next best thing.
So, then… was it a trap?
A show for her mother?
Or perhaps a ruse to convince Rhiannon to speak those loathsome vows, and then afterward he meant to lock her away in that tower. Only, what would that gain him that he didn’t already possess?
Naught, she realized; it would gain himnaught.
Nor did she like to think that everything they had shared was meaningless…
At any given point during these past years, Cael might easily have marched her back up to the tower and locked her away, but he had not. To the contrary, he’d moved her into this suite intended for the lady of the castle, and he’d showered her with gifts that were all fit for a beloved wife—perhaps yet another ruse to soften her resolve?
He didn’t need to cajole her. He could very easily have forced her to wed. By Welsh law, Rhiannon couldn’t be forced to marry against her will; but Cael d’Lucy was not beholden to Welsh law. He answered to England’s king. Although Stephen had his troubles with the Papacy, they would never take Rhiannon’s side—a known Welsh witch, a daughter of their mortal foe. If Cael should happen to bring her before an ambassador of the Church, her protests would fall upon deaf ears.
Utterly confused now, she closed her fist about the small key and stared into the darkening hall…
Had he left her door unguarded only to prove a point to her mother—that what?
That he’d finally won Rhiannon’s heart?
That guarding her was unnecessary because she was so pliant?
So, he could give her the freedom she would need later to escape…
The notion accosted her as swiftly and fiercely as did the certitude that Cael d’Lucy was assured little through his marriage to her, but far, far less if he set her free.
So, then…why…why would he help her escape in the final hour, when doing so would only earn him her mother’s wrath?
Never once had he given her any cause to believe he might waver in his allegiance. In fact, he’d always made his intentions very, very clear: He was aligned with Morwen.
His goals—whatever their extent—were bound to hers as well.
So, then… dare she believe that he’d made this decision with his heart, not his head?
It was the look in his eyes before he’d left that convinced her it must be true. For all these years, she had so desperately longed for some proof that his soul was not so black as it seemed. Was this the evidence she’d sought?
Her embittered heart could not believe it!
And perhaps with good reason, because, in truth, releasing her might not be entirely altruistic.
If Rhiannon abandoned Blackwood, he would have one less obstacle in his way.
