A Stranger's Touch

by Anne Herries

  ‘Another witch! ‘Tis a mortal sin to watch such wickedness as this!’ a voice called out from the crowd. ‘Are we so lost to morality that we allow such evil beings in our town? God is watching. Fear for your immortal souls, my friends—or the fires of hell await you.’

  Peeping round the curtain Edward had erected, Morwenna sought for the source of the trouble and saw a man dressed in the robes of a priest. He was haranguing the crowd, some of whom now seemed more interested in listening to him than the play.

  Some voices in the crowd told him to go away and shouted that it was naught but a play, but he continued to drone on about sin and the fires of hell and it was clear his preaching had made their audience uneasy.

  ‘Damn his sour tongue,’ Edward said and Morwenna turned to look at him. ‘You were magnificent out there, Wenna—but I fear our audience is lost. They are drifting away. I must call the others back, for I think the mood grows angry.’

  Edward beckoned to his actors, then brought the curtain down quickly. Some cries of disappointment came from the front and there were the sounds of a few scuffles, but no one stormed the stage or attacked the actors as they left it.

  ‘We had them until that priest began to preach of hellfire and damnation,’ Sylvania said. ‘Perhaps if we gave a show of dancing and buffoonery it might serve.’

  ‘That priest has stirred up bad elements within the crowd.’ Edward said. ‘It may be best if we leave before night. If they have a chance to drink and—’ He broke off as someone pushed aside the curtain and came through. ‘What do you want, sir? We do not look for trouble and Wenna is no witch nor a wanton …’

  ‘I am Lord Melford and I mean no harm to Morwenna.’ Rupert looked at her as she stood silent. ‘It is as well I found you. There are some out there that would drag you before the priest and put you to the test as a witch. What possessed you to sing upon the stage and then speak of witchery?’

  ‘She is one of us and spoke the words I gave her … well, mostly.’ Edward looked from one to the other, noting Morwenna’s pale face. ‘I warn you, sir. I shall protect her with my life.’

  ‘No, sir, you mistake him,’ Morwenna said, finding her words at last. ‘He thinks to protect me, do you not, my lord?’

  ‘Of course. Your brother Jacques is looking for you, but I was lucky enough to find you first. Will you let me take you away?’

  Morwenna hesitated. The players had gathered to look at her, their faces registering different emotions.

  ‘Take her, for she is naught but bad luck for us,’ Peacock Henry said spitefully. ‘We might have earned good coin here today had it not been for her pride.’

  ‘Forgive me, Mr Rawlings.’ Morwenna ignored the spiteful taunt. ‘I think it may be best if I do leave you. I did not realise what effect my performance would have.’

  ‘‘Tis these country folk. They are superstitious fools.’

  Sylvania looked grave. ‘I am sorry for it, Morwenna, but I think you should go. Your lover has come for you, be glad of it and may good fortune shine on you.’

  ‘I do not wish to bring trouble on you.’ Morwenna glanced at Rupert, then quickly away, shivering as she saw his frown. ‘If you will wait while I change into my own things.’

  ‘Be quick, then. I do not wish to tarry.’

  ‘Forgive me.’ Blinking back her tears, Morwenna left the troupe of players, hurrying to the changing area at the back of the stage. She pulled off the bright clothes of the gypsy queen and pulled on her own dark gown. She felt humiliated and distressed, for she had spoiled what had promised to be a good day’s takings for her friends who, she sensed, no longer wished her to be one of them.

  Returning to the wings, she found Rupert in conversation with Mr Rawlings and saw some coins change hands. The other players had gone as she walked up to the two men.

  ‘You are in safe hands,’ Edward said and pocketed the gold. ‘I am sorry you are no longer to be one of us, but no harm has been done. May good fortune go with you, Wenna.’

  He walked away and she turned to look at Rupert. ‘Did you pay him for his losses?’

  ‘It was but a few silver pence and of no consequence.’ Rupert frowned at her. ‘You are ready to leave? I think we should go quickly, for that priest may yet make trouble.’

  ‘Why must people be so cruel and so ready to condemn? Why is it so wrong for a woman to play upon the stage?’

  ‘It is the law and those that flaunt it risk punishment. You are not the first to risk it, Morwenna, but until the law is changed ‘tis a dangerous profession. People are superstitious. Have you not heard of the Witchfinder? Women have been put to the test for less, Morwenna.’

  Morwenna shivered. ‘I had no idea they would think the story true—’twas merely a play and I said so little.’

  ‘Have you no idea how magnificent you looked? Your words had me shivering in my boots. For a woman to sing in a public place was seen as a moral outrage—though I doubt not the day will come when the law will change and women will take their place on the stage without fear of the law, even if they have to play youth’s parts.’

  ‘I am glad you gave the players money. They were kind to me and I meant no harm.’

  Morwenna felt close to tears as Rupert took her arm, pushing her out into the inn yard. Holding her tight, he led her to where his horse stood waiting.

  ‘You must ride with me. We have no other choice.’

  ‘I know how to ride. My father taught me.’

  ‘We will buy you a horse, but not from here. I do not wish to spend more time here than necessary. That priest is stirring them up and I would not have them come after you, Morwenna. Even I could not be sure of holding a mob if they hunted a witch.’

  She was pale and silent as he put her up and then jumped into the saddle, but his arms went round her, holding her, comforting her, and she felt the ice melting about her heart. How could she be angry with him when he had come to her rescue?

  ‘We shall be in England soon. I shall take you to my home first and then we’ll go to London.’

  Morwenna made no reply. She was uncertain what else she might do, though she could not forget the words he had spoken to her on the night of the wrecking. If he thought her a merciless creature that would lure men to their death to steal their goods, why had he bothered to come in search of her? Yet she must be grateful for his arrival, for had he not come in time she might have had to leave her friends and strike out alone once more—and had the crowd turned nasty. A shiver ran through her at the thought for she had heard vague tales of women being put to the test, though it had never happened in her village.

  Rupert’s arms tightened about her. ‘You are safe now, Morwenna. I shall not let those fools hurt you. I am sorry for the things I said to you the night of the storm. I saw dead men in the water and it made me angry, but I should have known that you had played no part in luring that ship to its doom.’

  ‘Nor were my brothers to blame. Michael would punish the culprits if he found them, but they may have been strangers. We might be smugglers, but we are not wreckers.’

  ‘Jacques told me the same and I believed him. Think no more of it, my love. I have regretted that night a thousand times. We are together now and if I have my way nothing shall part us. I have vowed to care for you and I shall do so if you let me.’

  Morwenna was silent. With all her being she longed to be with him, to be his mistress and give him all the love that was in her, but was she wise to do so?

  Yet if she found a way to leave him, she would be alone and that morning had taught her that the world was a more dangerous place than she had guessed in her father’s house.

  Morwenna looked at the house before them. They had left Truro two days previously and now they were in England, on the borders of the Welsh Marches. It was not a huge house Rupert had brought her to, not the kind of dwelling she would expect a lord to live in, but she sensed it meant something to him. She felt a response in him as they approached, as if he felt at home here.

>   ‘What is this place?’

  ‘It is my retreat,’ he said and smiled as he lifted her down into his arms. ‘My family came from these parts before my father was made a marquis. My great-great-grandfather bought the estate. It was only when the family became very rich and acquired larger estates that they moved to the castle.’

  ‘You are a marquis and live in a castle?’

  ‘I inherited the title from my father. Sometimes I live in the castle, but not often. My father died three years since, but my mother and sister live in the castle still. I visit from time to time, but I am often at court in London and when I have leisure I come here to Melford.’

  ‘It is a lovely house,’ she said. ‘The stone is mellowed by time and it looks golden in the sunshine.’

  ‘Yes, I like it here. The people who care for it are simple folk. We shall not share a bed here, Morwenna. The servants must be allowed to believe you are a distant cousin fallen on hard times and that I have brought you here for your safety.’

  Morwenna felt the hot blush sweep up her cheeks. ‘Are you ashamed of me? Why do you not take me to the nearest town and leave me? I can make my own way to London.’

  ‘Who will you fall in with next?’ he asked, an odd smile on his lips. ‘If you do not wish to stay with me when we get to London, I will take you to your aunt’s house and you can send word to Jacques.’

  ‘I do not wish to go to my aunt’s house. She is a sour, cold woman and would make my life a misery once she knew—’ She broke off, feeling hot all over.

  ‘Knew what, Morwenna?’ Rupert looked down at her. She turned her head away, but he caught her chin and made her look at him. ‘That you had been my lover?’

  She would not look at him as she said, ‘You need not feel responsible. I was willing enough.’

  ‘You were virgin when we loved. I took your innocence and must take care of you. For though you have a rascal for a brother I know you to be honest.’

  ‘Even so, I am capable of looking after myself.’

  ‘Indeed? You will allow me to be the judge, Mistress Morgan. I found you in some difficulty, you may recall.’ He turned away to greet the elderly man and woman who came out into the yard to welcome them. ‘Tomas and Anne—I would have you be kind to my cousin, Mistress Morwenna Morgan. Her family has fallen on hard times and I have brought her here so that I may protect her. We shall go to London in a few days, but for now I want her to rest and recover her spirits.’

  ‘Welcome, Mistress Morgan. It is good to see you, milord,’ the old man said. ‘All is well here, as always. My son sees to the land and we care for the house. Come in, for your chamber is always ready and the guest chamber will take but a moment to prepare.’

  ‘We shall have food and wine in the parlour, Tomas. My cousin has few belongings. I shall supply her lack before we leave for town.’

  ‘There are trunks of silks and good wool cloths in the store chambers, my lord,’ the elderly woman said and curtsied to Morwenna. ‘For such a beautiful lady I would advise the silks be made up by the seamstress. I will send for her today, should you wish.’

  ‘I can help to sew the garments,’ Morwenna said and then blushed as the woman looked at her curiously. ‘I do not wish to be a trouble to you.’

  ‘I have told you that my home is yours, Morwenna. My people will be glad to work for you.’ Rupert took her arm, looking at her sternly. ‘Come, I shall show you my house.’

  Morwenna made no reply. Tears were stinging behind her eyes as he took her inside the beautiful old manor house. Although very old and built in the fourteenth century, it had been kept in good repair and the inside was well furnished with both ancient oak and more modern walnut pieces with twisty legs and splats in the back of the elbow chairs. There were carpets on the floors and some of the walls had been recently panelled with light oak to make it warmer. Bright cushions in jewel-like colours were placed on carved benches and the smell of rose petals was everywhere. It was the house of a wealthy man and one that cared for his home.

  ‘Someone is industrious here,’ Morwenna said as she looked about her. ‘This is a lovely home.’

  She sighed, for even when her mother lived the house in Cornwall had never been this comfortable or so well appointed. After her parents died, Morwenna had struggled to keep it clean and the little touches that made a house a home had been forgotten.

  Seeing the smiling maid, busy with her beeswax, and the potboy come up from the kitchen in his coarse apron to look at her, she smiled. Clearly the people here were curious about her and she wondered if this was the first time Rupert had brought a lady to his home. One or two other servants had drifted into the hall, eager smiles on their faces as they looked at their lord and his guest and then at each other.

  They imagined her to be their lord’s intended. Morwenna’s throat caught as she thought how happy she would be if that were the case, but Rupert had made her position clear. His servants were to believe that she was a poor relation he had taken pity on—and in a way that was true. He had rescued her from an unpleasant incident that might have turned nasty and because she’d been virgin when he seduced her, he believed it was his duty to care for her.

  For a moment fierce regret swept through her. If she had not lain with him she would not be in this awkward position. Rupert did not truly love her, though he called her his love and spoke of sharing a bed. She would be his mistress while he wanted her and then he would send her away, no doubt with sufficient money to live in comfort somewhere in obscurity, especially if they should have a child.

  She shook her head because it was not a future she cared to see. Her pride would carry her through these next few days, because these people were good honest folk and clearly thought much of their lord. She would not make a fuss or deviate from the story he chose, but once they left here she would find a way to slip off and make her own way to London.

  Yet it broke her heart to think of leaving him. Why should she leave him? There was nothing in life for her without him.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘Do not look as if you were a trapped fawn,’ Rupert said as the door closed behind them and they were alone in his parlour. ‘Eat some of this good food. I dare say you have not tasted as good since you left home.’

  Morwenna picked up a piece of fresh bread, spread it with pale butter and added cheese to it, chewing with some relish. Rupert had taken it on himself to fill her plate with slices of ham, relishes and a slice of piggy pie.

  ‘I am not sure if the pie is as good as you make, but I think you will find it has its own taste.’

  Morwenna nibbled at a tiny slice and smiled. ‘It has a distinctive taste, very different to the recipe that Bess makes. She would be curious and I think she would like this …’

  ‘What happened to her? Is she still at the house?’

  ‘No, she was to go to her sister. Michael must find a new servant, I think.’

  ‘Your brothers may soon find themselves eating prison swill if they do not mend their ways.’

  Morwenna’s eyes flashed fire as she looked at him. ‘Why do you say that? What harm did they do to you?’

  ‘It is the harm they may do to others that matters here. Jacques says Michael tells him only what he needs him to do—is that the truth?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘It may save his life if it is accepted at their trial.’

  ‘You would see my brothers ruined? You would see them broken on the rack and hanged?’ A sob rose to her lips, but she denied it.

  ‘It is not my wish, Morwenna. Jacques is determined never to return to that house and may escape Michael’s fate. I think he might like to come here as my steward—do you think such a position would suit him?’

  Her eyes opened wide. ‘It is exactly what Jacques would like—but are you sure? Why should you do something like that for him?’

  ‘I trust him now I know he isn’t involved in the plot to murder the King and destroy our constitution—and my steward ages. He will need help as t
he years pass.’

  ‘You think my eldest brother is involved in this treason?’

  ‘I have been told that there is proof of involvement with known Jesuits and Catholic troublemakers. We suspect that a plot is being hatched—and the men involved have been seen with Michael. One of them was arrested. He escaped and was followed to your village and then disappeared before the militia could deal him with.’

  ‘You think Michael helped him get away to France on his ship?’

  ‘I am certain he did and I think it was not the first time it has happened. Your brother is deeply involved with the plotters.’

  ‘If you will excuse me, I shall go to my chamber …’

  Morwenna turned away, but he caught her arm, refusing to allow her to leave him. ‘Not so fast. I know now that neither you nor Jacques was involved in these plots. I may keep you both safe if I can but unless Michael mends his ways he will be taken and punished.’

  ‘Why do you say these things to me? Do you wish to torment me? To punish me?’

  ‘Why should I punish you?’ His hand reached out and caressed her cheek. ‘Surely you know I care for you, Morwenna? I must tell you the truth, for I would have no more lies between us. Had I not lost my memory I might never have known you, for I came in search of a traitor and you were his sister. For all I knew you were involved in their plotting, but my memory had gone and I found you lovely. As sweet and warm as you were honest. Can you blame me for what I did? The feeling between us was mutual, I think.’

  Morwenna’s stomach clenched as she tried to control the heat that raced through her at his touch. Her lips parted on a ragged breath. She caught back a sob.

  ‘I know what my brother does is wrong—but Michael lost so much when Father died and we realised we had nothing left but the house. The woman he was to have married was forced to marry another.’ She sighed and her protest died away. ‘I know that does not excuse what he does, but he is still my brother.’