A Stranger's Touch

by Anne Herries

  ‘And your caring does you credit,’ Rupert said, smiling. ‘Yet he has chosen his own way and will not heed you. You must put the past behind you and think of the future.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ She caught back a sighing breath. ‘I am but a woman and can do nothing.’

  ‘Come now, eat your food and then Mistress Anne will show you to your chamber, where you may rest. She may have found you a clean gown that will do until we can have more made.’

  Morwenna nodded, trying to banish the threatening tears and to swallow food that seemed to stick in her throat. It was foolish to be so emotional.

  Rupert was being kind to her, but she wanted more. She wanted so much more than he was willing to give. He had never promised her marriage. It was her fault for falling in love with him.

  Morwenna must accept what he offered or find a way to escape him.

  ‘Do you play an instrument?’ Rupert asked when they were alone in the parlour that evening.

  ‘My mother had fine instruments and she taught me to play the virginals and the harp. My father destroyed them after she died, for he could not bear to look at them, but had I an instrument I would play it.’

  ‘I think my sister had a harp, but she did not play the virginals. When we are in London I shall buy instruments for you. I sometimes play the flute and I like to sing. Even though you may not sing upon the stage, Morwenna, our friends will enjoy your voice.’

  ‘Shall we have friends if I am—?’ She broke off and blushed as he looked at her.

  ‘Most of my friends have a mistress,’ Rupert said. ‘We shall entertain them and they will ask us to their houses. You must not think I mean to hide you away.’

  ‘Oh.’ Morwenna looked away from him. She was not sure what it was to be a man’s mistress. Her family would think it shameful, but great men had different ways and if it was accepted in London amongst his friends then perhaps it would not seem so very wrong. She must accept her fate, for to leave him now would surely break her heart. Besides, her reputation had been lost when she ran away from home. ‘I see. I was not perfectly sure.’

  Rupert moved towards her. He took her hand and kissed it.

  ‘I care for you, Morwenna. We shall have a good life together and you will find no shame in being my lover, I promise you. I shall never cast you off or hurt you and if we part it will be because we no longer wish to be together. Even then I shall offer you my friendship and protection.’

  ‘I thank you.’

  She stumbled over the words, for the tears burned behind her eyelids. Rupert was a man of honour and generous, but he did not love her as she loved him. He had no idea that he was breaking her heart or that she might one day be forced to leave him because the hurt simply became too much to bear.

  She would hide her pain behind a smile, because there was nothing else she could do.

  ‘Have you enjoyed your stay here, Morwenna?’ Rupert came upon her in the gardens of his home as she bent her head to sniff at a beautiful white rose that had somehow escaped the frosts of autumn. ‘I know you like to walk, for you rise early every morning. What else do you enjoy?’

  ‘Is this not a beautiful rose?’ Morwenna asked, smiling at him. ‘It has a delicate perfume. Mama tried to grow roses, but the winds were too cold for them and they withered. Shall we have a rose garden, Rupert?’

  ‘Yes, of course, if you wish it. I remember there was once a beautiful red rose that grew here in a sheltered spot. Its perfume was matched only by the deep crimson of its petals. You must tell me what you like and I shall try to provide the things you need.’

  ‘My needs are not great,’ she said. ‘I like to talk and laugh and to walk or ride. I think it would be pleasant to have dogs if one lived in the countryside.’

  ‘I thought we might live in London, but I dare say we could spend time in the country if it suited you,’ he said, a slight frown creasing his brow. ‘Do you like to embroider? Shall I buy you silks and a frame for your pleasure?’

  ‘That would be pleasant. I could make shirts for you and embroider your initials on your nightgown.’ She saw the laughter in his eyes and her colour rose. ‘What have I said to amuse you?’

  ‘I sleep naked, Morwenna, just as I was when you nursed me and bathed my heated body.’

  ‘Oh.’ She turned away hastily lest he should see her embarrassment. It was true that she had thought him beautiful when she cooled his fever.

  Was it because she had done those things for him that he thought she had no shame? Did he think her wanton or unworthy in some way? He spoke of caring for her, but he had never once suggested marriage.

  Why? Was there some reason why he could not wed her—or was it simply that he thought her the sister of a traitor, unworthy of his name?

  The thought struck her to the heart, but she thrust it from her mind as he held out his hand to her.

  ‘Come, Morwenna. I shall show you my favourite places. The trees I liked to climb and the stream I fished in as a boy.’

  Morwenna took his hand. Sometimes in this beautiful place she could almost believe she was his wife and loved.

  ‘That colour becomes you well, Mistress Morwenna,’ the old woman said as she fastened the ties at the back of the beautiful green silk gown. It had a squared neckline with a broad band of embroidery, a narrow stomacher, which was embroidered with beads and silk, and a full skirt that gathered into a little train at the back.

  ‘‘Tis a shame you have no jewels to wear for the gown deserves them.’

  ‘I do have some pearls my mother left me,’ Morwenna said and went to the coffer she had been given for her use. She lifted the lid and took out the little pouch that contained the precious necklet. The pearls were small and misshapen, but precious to her because they had been her mother’s. She put them around her neck, slipping the clasp into place. ‘There, will they do?’

  ‘They look well enough,’ Anne said, but there was a note of reserve in her voice. Clearly she thought Morwenna should wear something more in keeping with the status of her protector’s family. ‘I dare say my lord will present you with jewels worthy of you soon enough.’

  A protest rose to Morwenna’s lips, but she held it inside. It had become obvious to her these past few days that Rupert’s servants believed she would be their new mistress. She would not disillusion them, for they would learn the truth soon enough.

  Leaving her chamber, she went down the stairs to the parlour. As she paused outside, she heard voices. Resisting the temptation to listen, she turned away and went out into the garden. If Rupert wished her to meet his guest, he would come in search of her.

  Her time had passed pleasantly since they’d arrived at the manor, for she had been allowed to do exactly as she pleased. Rupert had been busy with his steward and his agents, riding his acres and making decisions that would be carried out to the letter. She had seen for herself that the land was in good heart and everything was well ordered. Rupert might not come often to this house, but his servants were industrious even when their master was not at home.

  How she would love to live in this house as its mistress! Morwenna sighed deeply, for she knew such a dream was impossible. Rupert had promised to look after her, but she would be his mistress and see him only when he had the time to spare. She would not be a part of his family and but a small part of his life.

  Her throat was tight and she fought the tears, pulling her cloak tighter about her as she shivered in the cool breeze. Soon now the autumn would be over and they would be deep in winter.

  She had her back turned to him when she heard Rupert’s approach and turned slowly to face him.

  ‘Forgive me if I have neglected you,’ he said, his eyes moving over her with warm admiration. ‘Your new gown becomes you, Morwenna. Are you satisfied with it?’

  ‘Yes, perfectly. The silk is finer than I have possessed before.’

  ‘I am pleased if it finds favour in your eyes.’

  Morwenna smiled, but made no reply. Fine gowns were all very well
, but what she needed was a sign that she truly meant something to him. Since their arrival he’d kept his distance, never approaching her when they might be in seclusion. She’d had plenty to keep her busy, but she enjoyed the short time they spent together in the evenings when they supped and spoke of their day before parting each to their own bedchamber.

  Rupert had been scrupulous, treating her exactly as he would a spinster lady of his family. He was courteous and respectful, but sometimes she saw a spark of fire in his eyes and believed he was thinking of what it might be like if she lay in his bed each night. If only they could spend every night and the better part of their day together. She would then have all she could ever want.

  ‘Did you have a visitor earlier? I heard voices when I came to your chamber, but I turned away for I did not wish to intrude.’

  ‘It was merely a messenger from London. I am instructed to return as soon as possible. We shall leave here the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘Must we?’ Morwenna sighed for she had felt happy here and wished they might stay a little longer.

  His brows arched as he caught her sigh. ‘You like it here so much?’

  ‘I have never known a home like this,’ she replied honestly. ‘I could wish that it were mine, but I know that is impossible. Your plans for me do not include taking me into your home. I have felt a sense of belonging, but of course I do not belong here.’

  ‘Do you not?’ Rupert’s gaze narrowed and she saw an odd expression in his eyes. For a moment he looked so bleak that she wondered at the memories behind that look. ‘We must see how we go on, Morwenna. My business takes me to London, but …’ He shook his head as if gathering his scattered thoughts. ‘I should tell you that there is more information concerning the plotters. If Michael is involved, I shall not be able to save him.’

  ‘My brother is a law unto himself. If Michael is the traitor you think him, then he must take the consequences. However, I would plead for mercy for Jacques. Michael tells him what to do and he does it, but he is not wicked.’

  ‘Why does Jacques not press him for answers if he doubts him?’

  ‘Michael is the head of the house …’ She faltered and looked away, then, ‘Jacques told you he would no longer be a part of Michael’s plans?’

  ‘If he keeps to his word, he is safe.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Tears stung her throat. ‘You must think us a troublesome family.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Rupert smiled. ‘I, too, long for adventure at times, which is why I became involved in this business. I understand your brothers more than you might imagine. I will help them if I can, but Michael holds his own fate in his hands.’

  ‘Yes, I understand.’

  Morwenna turned away, tears stinging her eyes. Rupert reached out and caught her wrist, holding her so firmly that she looked back at him, her throat tight.

  ‘You know that I care for you?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice was tremulous, uncertain. ‘You told me when we lay together. I was not sure you meant it. You were so angry the night the wreckers came. You thought me one of them.’

  ‘I have wished my cruel words unsaid a thousand times.’ He drew her closer so that she was but a breath away from his body, gazing down at her. ‘If I kiss you now, I shall take you to my chamber and make love to you. Since I do not wish to ruin your reputation and shock my staff, I shall keep my distance until we leave this house.’ His eyes caressed her, hot and needy. ‘I want you so much and I shall always take care of you and, if we should have children, they will not want. You need not fear for the future, Morwenna. As soon as we reach London I shall find a suitable house where we can be together. You will have servants to care for you and many more fine gowns, jewels and horses. I shall spend as much time with you as I can. It will be a good life. I hope it will content you?’

  ‘Yes, I think I shall be happy when we are settled.’

  What alternative did she have? Alone and friendless, she would end up in some menial position if he abandoned her. Morwenna must take what he offered and make the most of what he gave.

  He moved closer still, eyes seeming to scorch her as he looked into her face. She felt the heat of his passion engulf her like a flame, setting her on fire. How could she ever leave him when she wanted to be in his arms so much? Her thoughts of running away were wild and foolish—she wanted to lie with him in scented sheets as they had that first night in the cottage at the top of the cliffs. A part of her said it was not enough and yet her heart cried out that it would break if she left him.

  ‘You’d best go into the house,’ Rupert said at last. ‘If we stay here longer, I shall carry you into a secret place and ravish you. For the sake of my people and your reputation, I shall wait until we are in London and no one knows us or cares what we do. My friends have their mistresses and you will be welcomed by them all.’

  Once again her throat felt tight and tears pricked, but she held them back and smiled. What more could she expect? She was a lady born, but she had given herself to him like a wanton. She could expect nothing more than he was offering her. No man would ever wish to wed her now.

  Turning away so that he should not see her tears, she went into the house with her head held high. One day he would tire of her, but she knew he would not simply cast her off. She would be provided for even though he looked elsewhere for his pleasure. In the meantime she must make the most of what he offered.

  Rupert watched her walk into the house. She had the poise and bearing of a queen. He knew that, had her circumstances been other than they were, he would not have been offering to make her his mistress. She was all fire and passion, but she was a lady and she deserved more than he could give her.

  Yet he could not wed the sister of a man who was likely to be taken for treason, tried and executed. As his mistress, she would be hidden away and no one would connect her with Michael Morgan, but if he were to marry her, her name and family must be known.

  What was he thinking of? Marriage was out of the question. He owed too much to his family name and tradition. No, it was impossible. His father would stir in his grave and his mother would weep and beg him to think of her before allying himself with the sister of a traitor. She would remind him of his promise and of other things, using all her strength to punish him.

  Rupert was his father’s second son. His brother Richard should have inherited most of what was his, but an accident when they were playing as boys had lead to a terrible tragedy. Richard had fallen into the moat when they were fighting on the steep banks. He had been the elder and stronger, but though they fought in jest and laughed, his foot had slipped when Rupert pushed him. In falling into the icy water of the deep moat that surrounded the castle he’d struck his head, going down like a stone beneath the murky water. Rupert’s screams had brought men rushing to his rescue, but though alive when dragged from the water, he’d died of the resulting fever some days later.

  Rupert’s father had understood it was an accident, but his mother—his mother had never forgiven him. She blamed Rupert for the loss of her favourite son. Indeed, he thought she hated him, insisting that it was his fault, though Richard had begun the game.

  ‘You should not have been fighting near the moat,’ the Dower Marchioness had told him many times. ‘If you’d obeyed your father, my son would still be alive.’

  Rupert’s pride prevented him from begging for understanding. He’d begged her pardon, but her cold eyes told him that his sin would never be forgiven. She would never accept Morwenna Morgan as his wife and the future mother of his heirs. Even though he found the idea appealing, he knew it could not be. His proud mother would not have it and he’d promised her grandsons she could love.

  No, no, such an alliance was not to be thought of. Indeed, Rupert had not thought of marriage for some time. Not since his betrothed died of that terrible fever. He had been devastated by her sudden and fatal illness and since then he’d taken his pleasures lightly, never considering a relationship that would touch his heart. If he had not lost
his memory, he might not have fallen for Morwenna’s sweetness so easily.

  She deserved so much more than he could give her.

  No other woman had come close to touching his inner citadel, but, he realised now, Morwenna had broken down his defences. He would not wish to part with her. She had become more to him than he’d ever intended.

  He would do his best to make her happy. It was natural that she should be a little uneasy after the way he’d raged at her and then walked away. She needed time to come to trust him and that was one of the reasons why he’d brought her here, to a place where he knew he could not indulge his own needs, his own passions. Rupert wanted her in his bed. He wanted to make love to her all the time, to see that drowsy satiated expression in her beautiful eyes when they lay together in the candlelight. If he’d cared only for himself, he would have found an inn and taken her to bed the first night, but he wanted her to be ready. To welcome him without doubt or fear in her eyes.

  In London he would give her all the things she’d never had, lavish her with love and affection and the luxuries his money could buy. Surely then, when she saw how he cared for her safety and her pleasure, she would be ready to become the passionate mistress he needed?

  ‘Come back to us soon, my lord,’ Mistress Anne said as she and the steward accompanied them out to the courtyard. Morwenna was to ride a fine, milk-white palfrey, which stood waiting for her docilely as she made her farewells. ‘And bring Mistress Morwenna with you, for she brings sunshine to us all.’

  ‘Thank you for looking after me,’ Morwenna said and pressed a small coin into her hand. The old woman shook her head, but Morwenna closed her fingers over it. ‘For your grandchildren if you wish it so.’

  ‘For the children, mistress. It has been a pleasure to look after you these past few days.’

  Morwenna kissed her cheek, then turned away. A groom helped her to mount her horse as Rupert took his last farewell. Then they were moving out of the courtyard. She looked back once, noting the way the old stone walls glowed in the late autumn sun. The best of the year had gone now and soon it would be winter. Here it had seemed as warm as summer these past few days, but she knew it was but an illusion, just as the peace and serenity of the old house was merely a dream. Life was never this sweet in reality. If they had stayed longer she would have seen the truth soon enough, but it was a pleasant memory to take with her and something she would never forget.