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“Will you accompany me to the inner ward?” Catrin asked, coming to her feet.

Mary looked surprised. “You wish to deliver it yourself, my lady?”

“Yes.”

Catrin could not explain why it was so important that she personally place her letter in the courier’s hands, but thankfully, Mary simply accepted her decision. Donning her cloak once more, Catrin led the way out the door.

They took the spiral stairs down the tower, emerging at the bottom in the courtyard of the inner ward. Pausing at the doorway, Catrin scanned the area, finally spotting the waiting courier standing beside his horse near the entrance to the outer ward. Two guards stood nearby, watching him warily. Raising her hood against the relentless rain, Catrin started across the courtyard with Mary close behind.

She was within a few feet of the messenger when his horse gave a welcoming nicker.

“Steady, Castan.”

At the messenger’s softly spoken words, Catrin’s heart stuttered. Stumbling to a halt, she raised her head to look past the peak of her hood at the beautiful chestnut stallion before her.

“Castan.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Merciful heavens, surely Rhys would not be so foolhardy as to enter an English stronghold alone. Not with a price on his head. She swung to face the man, but his cloak covered his clothing, and his hood concealed his face.

“You are the courier?” Only too aware of Mary’s presence at her elbow and the guards not more than three arm’s lengths away, she worked to keep her voice even.

“I am.”

With her heart pounding so hard she worried that Mary would hear it, she stepped forward and extended the letter to him. “Here is the response you have been waiting for.”

He reached out his hand, and as she gave him the parchment their fingers touched. For one breath, they were connected, and a frisson of awareness sizzled through the air between them. Then he pulled back his arm, and the moment was gone.

“I . . . I pray you travel safely,” she said.

“I thank you. The journey back will be all the better for knowing that my purpose here was achieved.”

Not daring to trust her voice, Catrin bit her lip and nodded. Rhys bowed, and when he raised his head, his blue eyes met hers. He winked, but the next moment, his face was gone, hidden beneath his hood once more.

“Enough.” One of the guards stepped forward. “You have your missive. Move along.”

Rhys did not argue. In one swift, smooth movement, he mounted Castan and turned him toward the castle gate. “Farewell, Lady Catrin,” he said.

“Farewell,” she replied, but he was already out of the courtyard.

Chapter 34

Maredudd paused his pacing and faced Catrin anew. “Do you mean to tell me that Rhys was waiting in the inner ward for the best part of an hour, and no one questioned it?”

“Yes,” Catrin said. Her fleeting encounter with Rhys had been only three hours before, yet it felt like a dream.

Maredudd groaned. “Gwilym has always owned more than his fair share of recklessness, but I thought Rhys possessed more sense.” He started pacing across the antechamber again. “By all the saints, my love for Margaret is surely as deep as his feelings for you, but even when we believed Henry was bent on destroying Penmynydd, I did not face the enemy alone.”

Catrin took an unsteady breath. “I cannot account for why he chose to come himself.”

“He will never be at peace unless he knows you are safe.”

“As you are with Margaret.”

“Aye.” Maredudd’s pacing slowed, and he gave her a strange look. “As I am with Margaret.”

Catrin studied his face, and a prickle of unease skittered through her. “Maredudd?”

He shook his head, and the look was gone. “’Tis nothing. Merely a fleeting thought.”