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Men and women moved about purposefully but without hurry. All seemed to be well fed, better fed, perhaps, than her father's servants. Their faces, although broad and fair instead of dark and narrow, had the same look about the eyes as her mother's servants. Simon had told the truth. Whatever threat Roselynde keep posed against intruders, those inside were, for the most part, content with their lot. |
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Knud had advanced on Siorl and began to discuss in broken French-English where to house Simon's men. Siorl replied in even more fractured French-Welsh. Simon grinned, but left them to solve the problem. "They are a little crowded," he explained to Rhiannon, "because everyone is here. We were wise to ride so hard. We have only just caught them before they left for Oxford. Usk is to be returned to Pembroke on the twenty-third. There has been a family conference on what to do if the king will not keep his word." |
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Rhiannon began to look a trifle apprehensive again, but Simon did not notice it in the joy of coming home. She was a step or two behind him when he was enveloped in a warm embrace by a man who came hurriedly out of the forebuilding. Rhiannon knew him at once, although many years had passed since she had seen him, and the lines of his face had blurred with age. This was Lord Ian. |
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"You cannot imagine my joy when I received Llewelyn's proposal," he said to his son. "I never imagined he would consider you for his daughter. I have written my approval, of course, and also a request that you should be sent homebut I did not expect you so soon. My messenger only went out the day before yesterday. But come in, Simon, come in." |
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"Are you well, Papa?" Simon asked. |
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They were the first words he had been permitted to say, and Rhiannon was startled at the intensity and anxiety in them. She looked more intently at Lord Ian. |
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