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“I have to believe that they would prefer the leader I can become with you in my life to the leader I’ve been these last five days.”
“Was it truly so bad?”
He groaned. “Awful. Gwilym and Maredudd have taken to walking away whenever I draw near. I daresay if they were here at this very moment, they would beg you to do anything in your power to save them from my ill humor.”
Catrin looked at him doubtfully. “Even Gwilym?”
“Yes. Even Gwilym.” He touched his fingers to her cheek, sliding them softly into her hair. “Our situation is not ideal, to be sure, but if you are willing, I wish to be open in my affection for you and to be at your side whenever my responsibilities allow.”
She met his ardent gaze, and joy welled within her. “If you truly believe it would be for the best . . .”
“Indeed.” His blue eyes held hers, and she could not look away. “I am certain that it would.”
“Then . . . then perhaps we should . . .”
He drew her into his arms, and his lips—suddenly so close—curved upward. “Aye,” he murmured. “Perhaps we should.” Then he kissed her, and the rest of the world simply fell away.
Chapter 26
Alun arrived at the camp early the next morning. Rhys recognized the lad’s red hair when he cleared the scree at the valley’s entrance and immediately left the men he’d been coaching in swordplay to meet the young guide at the longhouse.
“What news, Alun?” he asked.
Alun slid out of his saddle. “Soldiers were spotted disembarking the ferry in Conwy. They’re marching east along the coast road.”
“East.” Rhys rubbed his chin. “Going back to England, no doubt. But why?”
“I can’t tell you, Marshal. It was a young lad who brought the news. He couldn’t give me numbers or who’s riding at their head. Only that they were most certainly English and that they arrived on the ferry from Beaumaris.”
Rhys glanced at the weak sun barely visible behind the clouds. “They’ve got a good two hours head start on us, but if we leave directly, we might cut them off at Pensarn.”
“Once you’re off the mountain, the road from Llanrwst to Pensarn can be traveled quickly.”
Rhys gave a decisive nod. “Take your mount to the stable and tell Bleddyn to make ready the horses.”
“Yes, Marshal.”
Alun headed to the stable, and Rhys joined his brothers at the archery targets.
“A new report from Alun?” Gwilym asked.
“Aye. English soldiers on the coast road.”
“And?”
“Bleddyn is readying the horses. We leave immediately.”
Gwilym grinned. “I’m glad you are returned, Marshal Rhys. I must be sure to thank Catrin for whatever magic she worked upon you last night.”
Rhys caught Maredudd’s knowing look and allowed himself a moment to relive the pleasure of holding Catrin in his arms with his lips on hers. Something must have shown on his face for Gwilym’s eyes unexpectedly narrowed.
“Is she versed in the magic arts?”
Maredudd had a sudden and suspicious coughing attack, and Rhys rolled his eyes.
“Assemble the men,” Rhys said. “And be sure they have what they need for battle.”
By the time he returned to the longhouse, Bleddyn and Catrin were leading out the horses. They handed off the mounts to the few men who had arrived ahead of Rhys and immediately headed back to the stable for more. When Catrin reappeared, she was leading Castan. She paused a few feet from the stable doors and ran her hand down the stallion’s neck, talking softly to him. At Rhys’s approach, she looked up.
