“Och! Mary, Mother of Jesus, Morgan, you heard only part of a conversation. And what do you mean tiny, blonde, and beautiful bride? All you got right in that sentence was the bonnie part.”
He was dismayed to hear her confession of overhearing the conversation. What else had she heard? He was trying to remember. He had said something about the marriage and, oh God, he could see where she would think he had a bride waiting in London and she would be deposited back at Seabridge. That was why she ran.
She didn’t trust him to keep his word. He had said he wouldn’t send her back, and she didn’t believe him. That hurt even if he could see where she might have thought differently.
“And last night,” he asked. “What was that to you, m’lady?”
“The same thing it was for you—memorable.”
“Somehow I doubt we’re of like mind on the subject.”
She had said she wanted last night to take her through all her tomorrows. Had she thought last night would be the only night they would share together? Had she thought him so insensitive and of such a nature to take a highborn virgin when he had a bride waiting? Did she think he would share with her the most devastatingly passionate night of sex he had ever had, only to leave her for another? What else must she think of him?
“You’re way off course on this one, lass. You only heard part of a conversation and have no idea what’s in my heart, Morgan.”
“Nay, I know exactly what I heard. I have to get to London, Nic.” Morgan continued, her voice rising, “I wasn’t going to allow you to take me back to Seabridge then, and I certainly will not be forced back now.”
He grabbed her gently by the shoulders. “Morgan, calm yourself.” Nic was beginning to find the situation anything but amusing. “You’re right. You won’t go back today. Nevertheless, go back you will when the time is right.”
“Nay, I won’t, and you along with the whole of the king’s army can’t force me either.”
“I’m not arguing with you about this, lass. It’s pointless. Seabridge is your home. It belongs to you, and you have every right to be there and to live free of fear.”
“Nay, McKinnon, I won’t go back. Not until I speak to the king. He has to remember the agreement with my father.”
“Agreement?” That stopped Nic in his tracks. “What agreement, Duchess?”
Nic felt something shift inside. Agreements between kings and upper-crust noblemen were common enough. What if Henry had agreed to give her to another and had forgotten? The thought was unimaginable to him now.
“In return for my father’s backing for Henry’s crown, Henry agreed that if I reach my twenty-first birthday unwed, then Seabridge and my person will be returned to my care alone to manage as I see fit. Today is my birthday, Nic. Do you not see? As of today, Seabridge is mine and mine alone. My uncle no longer has power over me.”
“Really? No man has any power over you, you say,” he repeated, his words dripping with extreme cynicism.
“I answer to no one except God and King Henry.”
Nic was taken back at the implication of this agreement and the direction Morgan was heading with it. It was obvious to him. She didn’t intend to take a husband. He was on very shaky ground where she was concerned and needed to regain his composure.
“Morgan, think for a moment about what you’re saying. Why would the king give up a prime piece of land to be managed by a slip of a girl?”
“He agreed,” she countered.
Nic shook his head. “Women and land are a means to an end. You know this and know that I’m right. In addition, I know Henry. He would never agree to such a thing. This practice is not done, Duchess. Land and marriages are rewards and used to build and strengthen alliances. And, even if he did sign it, Henry is king. He can change his mind.”
“But—” Morgan started to speak, yet Nic held up his hand instantly silencing any argument she might have had.
“And while we’re on the subject, let us talk, shall we, about your uncle for a moment. What in God’s name makes you think a man like Lester Brentwood would walk away just because his niece has reached adulthood and says so? Do you think you’ll simply walk into the Great Hall and announce you’re the duchess of the castle and he’ll acquiesce to your wishes and give up all he feels he has rightfully earned?”
“Well, I think—”
“Whatever you might be thinking, it’s unrealistic,” Nic interrupted. He had to drive some sense into her while he still had the time. “Morgan, men like Brentwood don’t give up without a fight, and that fight is usually dirty. You need a husband. You’re vulnerable without one and wrong to think otherwise.”
Morgan was livid. “And you think I’m not just as vulnerable with one? You think I need a husband? Why, Nic? So he can lock me in the tower for weeks on end with nothing but a moth-eaten blanket to keep me warm and just enough wood for a fire to burn for one hour a day? Or beat me senseless because my French is a bit accented. Or wait, what about this one?” She fired sarcastically. “He could lock me in a rat-infested, spider-ridden cellar for a week with no candles. Why, Nic? Please just go on and tell me why I need a husband. Perhaps, so he can push me aside once I give him his precious heir? His heir to the land and all that goes with it that is rightfully mine? He would be my husband, so who would be there to stop him? You? The law? Society? All would say it was his right as my lord and husband to do with me as he saw fit. And it’s you who’s wrong to think otherwise. No, McKinnon. No! I don’t need a husband and I don’t need you. I will get to London on my own.” She wheeled to get her pack to leave.
He saw where this argument was heading and pushed past her to block the door. Nic thought she would have fought to the death if the need had arisen.
“Out of my way, McKinnon. I’m exercising my options. This is the door I choose to walk out of and the time I’m choosing to do it.”
Nic dared not budge. For a brief moment, he felt fear she would do exactly that. She might just walk out and never look back.
He took several deep breaths before continuing in hopes of defusing the predicament. If he had told her last night that she already had a husband, then none of this would be happening. He certainly couldn’t tell her with her in this current emotionally charged state. She just might make herself a widow, he thought, somewhat amused.
“Nay, I can’t allow you to leave me, Duchess, and I’ll not argue with you about this, either. You’re not going anywhere without me beside you. I said that I’m taking you to London, and I’ll do just that. Let me get our trunks together, and we can take it one issue at a time. Agreed?”
She didn’t back down and continued as if he hadn’t said a word to her.
“I wish to borrow a complement of men from Connor. I will gladly pay for their services. However, as you are fully aware, I currently don’t have the means at my disposal, but I do have the funds. You can go to London unencumbered and answer your call to arms.” She stopped for a moment in her request to give greater weight to her final words. “And, Nic, you can also go to the devil or your bride. I don’t care which.” It was a lie. She cared deeply.
“At the moment, I believe my bride and the devil may be one and the same.”
Nic could see that Morgan didn’t understand his retort, and that was just as well. Nic was beyond furious, and he wasn’t just late to muster the men, he was very late to get them assembled for the journey to London.
“Fine, Morgan. You’ll get your men. They’ll take you to London and escort you to the king. I’ll ride ahead and give Henry fair warning of your impending arrival.”
Nic was two steps from losing control. His fear was he would do her harm if he stayed any longer, only giving credence to her argument of an abusive husband. Instead he marched over to where she had rooted herself, crushed her to him, gave her a brutally passionate kiss, turned and left the room with a stunned Morgan in his wake.
Chapter 29
“Och, women,” Nic mumbled as he went down the stairs in search o
f Aaron, his master guardsman. Cullen was with Aaron, and Nic drew his brother to the side and out of earshot of the others.
“Trouble in paradise, Nic?” Cullen asked, sensing Nic wasn’t happy, and his guess was a tall, beautiful, dark-haired woman was involved because the servants were gossiping about how Nic had spent the night with Morgan.
“Cullen, do not tangle with me this morning. I still might drown you for it.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a sure sign to Cullen that his brother was frustrated. “There has been a change in the plans. I need you to gather our most trusted and loyal men. Form an escort for Lady Morgan. I’m placing her life in your hands. I don’t trust anyone else except you for this task. Do you understand?”
“Actually, nay, I don’t understand.” Cullen was trying to go through the reasons why Nic may have made this request. There wasn’t a single one that made sense.
“She has refused to allow me to take her to London.” Nic lowered his voice. He didn’t want the men to know his woman had refused his protection. He would never live down the insult.
Cullen began to protest. “How can she refuse? You’re the best person for the job. And—”
“I know! I know!” Nic interrupted, lowering his voice. “Nevertheless, it must be done as she wants it. I’m afraid she’ll make the slip if she feels she’s not in complete control of these particular circumstances.”
“Why will she not allow you to escort her, Nic?” Cullen asked.
“She doesn’t trust me.” Nic’s simple reply was unexpected.
“Why on earth would she not trust you? Did you tell her, and that’s the reason?” Cullen was searching to understand why Morgan was so mistrustful of the one man Cullen knew to be the most trustworthy.
Nic was beginning to be uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading. “Ah, nay, it never came up.”
“What do you mean, ‘it never came up’? I thought you went upstairs with the purpose of telling her.”
Nic was beginning to feel ashamed. He had let the passion between them detour him from his original purpose.
“I hadn’t planned on staying the night, Cullen. I was going to tell her and leave or at least let her make the choice. I just ended up with more pleasant things to occupy our time, and this morning she came at me first thing with talons bared.”
“You’re a bad liar, Nic. So fool yourself if you want but don’t try to fool me,” Cullen said as he pointed at his older brother’s chest. “You had every intention of claiming Morgan when you shut and bolted the door to her chamber last night.” He didn’t even wait for Nic to try and deny what they both knew was the truth. “You married her and she has a right to know. You’ve failed her and you know it.”
“On several levels,” Nic admitted.
“You know the Code of the Knight. ‘To do an action is to own that action.’ It’s your action to own, Nic.”
“But—”
“I’ve never said this to you before, but you’re dead wrong on this one, my brother. You’re wrong to keep her in the dark as long as you have. She deserves better than this and well you know it.”
Nic knew Cullen was angry and this made him feel worse. “Just get her safely to London. If I’m still at court when she arrives, I’ll tell her at that point.”
“Well be warned, Nic, if you’re gone when we arrive, I’ll tell her. We can’t leave her in the dark and certainly not at Henry’s court. She would feel like the laughingstock of the realm if she finds out by other means. She has pride, Nic. It would crush her, and if you think she doesn’t trust you now…”
Nic bristled. “Well… Have you not just become the expert on my wife’s feelings?”
“Now you’re being an arse. You’re her husband for Holy Christ’s sake. It should come from you, but if not from your lips, then at least it needs to come from family,” Cullen retorted, feeling beyond irritated with his older sibling. The man had certainly gone soft in the head on this one.
“Verray well, you tell her if I have already left to join my troops.”
“Nic, are you sure you really want to do this?” Cullen gave him an inquisitive look and a final chance to back out of leaving Morgan in his care.
“Am I sure? Nay, I’m not sure about anything when it comes to my woman except that she means a great deal to me. Keep her safe at all costs, Cullen. You’ll have to watch her like a hawk, too. She can be slippery, and there is still danger lurking out there for her. I have no idea how Brentwood will act once he realizes she has slipped from his grasp.” Nic placed his pack on the back of Trojan.
“I’ll defend her with my life, Nic,” Cullen vowed. “She’s worth it.”
Nic was looking at his younger brother. Was he wise or just a bit in love with Morgan? Who would blame him if he were?
“No one, and I mean no one, is to touch her, understand me? And should she ever doubt I care for her, just tell her I love her more than my horse. She’ll understand.”
With those parting instructions, Nic mounted Trojan and headed east to London, to his duty, to his king.
~*****~
Morgan stayed in her room during all the preparation for departure. She would have been in the way had she tried to help. Standing at the window, she watched the love of her life ride away from her.
It’s best this way, she kept telling herself. This will make it easier, she thought. It had to make things easier because she was dying inside. He had gone and she had driven him away.
Yes, it was best this way, she repeated, as she shed tears for herself, for him, and for the life they would never share.
~*****~
Stewart watched as the party made ready to go. He watched Nic ride out ahead with too many men for him to be waylaid. He turned his attention to the lady. He knew after last night things had changed.
Undoubtedly, so did the rest of the castle. Her husband had staked his claim, and the lady hadn’t objected. Brentwood’s chances of securing Seabridge were growing slimmer by the day, and there might well be an heir already on the way. However, there always was a way around most any problem. The key was to know just how far a man was willing to go to solve that problem.
He chuckled. He was the kind of man who usually had no boundaries, and this time was no exception. He smiled bitterly as he watched the Duchess of Seabridge mount up to ride. If he had his way, the little witch would soon be back in the tower room just where she belonged.
Chapter 30
London
The Royal Court
Nic was true to his word. Riding ahead, he notified Henry and the queen of Morgan’s pending arrival.
The apartments Morgan found herself in were opulent beyond her wildest expectations. She had never expected the king to place her in such lavish surroundings as she currently found herself in. It didn’t dawn on her that the rooms and accommodations were customary and befitting a duchess who was also a distant relation.
The outer chamber was large and spacious. The stone fireplace, set into the corner, blazed with a welcoming fire even though the days were getting warmer. The dining table was graced with silver candlesticks holding expensive scented beeswax candles, and a writing desk complete with ink and parchment. There were also several chairs embellished with embroidery so fine it had surely taken years to complete a single cushion. The hunt scenes were miniature masterpieces with stitching so fine Morgan had to look closely to even see them. The fur rug in front of the hearth was sable, soft and luxurious to the touch. The lovely purple cloth covering the window slits was heavy velvet, trimmed with gold brocade. The tassels had fine beading of pearls, gold, and silver. A serving set consisting of a jewel-encrusted wine decanter and two matching goblets sat on the table between the two chairs in front of the fireplace. The small parchment announced the serving set was a gift from the king.
Her bedroom wasn’t as large but instead had a feeling of intimacy. The floor was covered with soft rugs throughout the room that padded her feet no matter where she walked. The fir
eplace had a set of chairs strategically placed, and they begged for intimate and romantic conversation.
However, it was the bed that dominated the room. It was set at an angle in the far corner, and the linen canopy draping it was the most beautiful material Morgan had ever seen. The sheerest white fabric gave the illusion the bed was floating. It captured the firelight, reflecting the light—like a hazy, warm mist. The bedcover and pillows matched, and Morgan found she wanted to burrow into the lush linens, letting the feel of them take her mind away from Nic and how much she missed him. It was a bed made for love. She wouldn’t have recognized it for what it was a fortnight ago; however, after spending that one wonderful night with Nic, her eyes were opening to a new and remarkable world. Her nights in this beautiful room filled her with deep and desperate longings. The bed felt like it was crying out for two.
She had barely left the chamber since arriving, and she hadn’t seen Nic in ten days. She knew he was here and missed him dreadfully. After being away from him, she hated thinking how desolate life was going to be without him.
The last ten days were torture when she let her mind drift to how they had parted at Featherstone. Angry words had severed them, and her need to apologize to him was eating at her. He was her friend, and she wanted to ask for forgiveness for her behavior. She had thought that by pushing him away it would make her inevitable loss easier. But doubts had crept in, knowing at this point nothing would ease the heartache sure to come with his pending nuptials.
Cullen made it clear on the trip from Featherstone to London that she had hurt Nic. She had not trusted him to keep his word, and his word was his honor. Cullen said that Nic took responsibility seriously. Morgan was his responsibility. Yet she had thrown his offer of protection back into his face.