A Stranger's Touch

by Anne Herries

  * * *

  ‘It is not our business what Rupert does, Mama,’ May said and looked at her mother anxiously. At times the Dowager Marchioness had a fearful temper and when she felt herself thwarted there was no telling what she might do. ‘If this woman means so much to him, he will surely tell us of his plans soon. Besides, Sir Henry had no right to tell you.’

  ‘Sir Henry spoke to me in confidence. She is the sister of a traitor—a man involved in that terrible plot against his Majesty and Parliament. Would you have your brother marry such a woman?’

  May’s bottom lip trembled, but she faced her mother bravely. ‘Rupert’s life is his own, Mother. He must be allowed to choose—’ She broke off with a cry as her mother slapped her across the face.

  ‘Silence, Daughter. You will show me respect. I knew your brother was ashamed of what he did, otherwise he would have brought her here to us. He has hidden her away and now he speaks of wedding her. I shall not allow him to shame us so. He must give her up or I shall not see him again.’

  Holding a hand to her cheek, May was silent. To say the things in her mind would only bring her mother’s fury on her once more, but she could not think that Rupert would give up a woman he loved for such a threat. All she could hope was that her brother would not turn his face from her.

  ‘Well, I have done something about it,’ the Dowager Marchioness said. ‘A marriage has been arranged and Rupert will not dare to go against what I have done or he will never be able to show his face in London again.’

  ‘What have you done, Mother?’ May was aghast. ‘Rupert will not thank you for interfering in his life.’

  ‘Go to your room and stay there. I will have obedience from my children.’

  May turned and ran from the room. Her mother was unkind and she longed to escape her bitter tongue. She had never been the same since her elder son’s death. Surely she could not still blame Rupert for what happened to Richard? She must know it was not his fault?

  Yet what else could all this be about? Tears were falling as May escaped to her room. If only Rupert would come home and rescue her …

  Rupert broke the seal and read though his mother’s letter, tossing it aside with a grunt of disgust. She had been busy interfering in his life again, though he had told her to desist. Her letter spoke of her disquiet. She had learned from an unimpeachable source that he was consorting with a woman of undesirable birth and standing and she exhorted him to come home and tell her that it was merely a liaison and that his intentions were not marriage. She was certain that her informant had been mistaken, for she could not believe her son would bring shame on his family name—a name that had gathered lustre down the years.

  To quash any rumour of your misalliance I have begun negotiations for you with the Duke of Marley. His daughter Annais is of a proper age for marriage, being just sixteen. She is well favoured and a sweet girl. I am sure that once you see her you will recognise your duty to the family. It is time that you settled down and took a wife. Do not disappoint me, Rupert. Remember your promise.

  I remain your loving mother …

  Rupert swore, looking up anxiously as Jacques entered the parlour.

  ‘Is she worse? Should I send for the physician?’

  ‘He has just this moment seen her. It is his opinion that she is through the crisis at last. All she needs is good food and nursing and she will be well again.’

  ‘The fever broke once before and then returned. Is he certain now that she is recovering?’

  ‘As certain as he can be. She seems cooler and is sleeping peacefully now.’

  ‘Thank God for it. If she is truly well, I must leave you for a time, Jacques. I have been summoned home by my mother and must attend her. I shall give you my direction and you will send for me at once if Morwenna takes a turn for the worse.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I have your word on it? I would not leave her, but this business will not wait. My mother has begun something that may lead to more trouble. She is foolish and meddlesome, but she does not understand what harm she does.’

  ‘I shall call you if Morwenna needs you, but I hope the worst is over. It should now be a matter of rest, good food and recovery at her own speed.’

  ‘I shall return as soon as I can. Tell her that I would not have left her were it not important.’

  ‘She will understand that you have business, sir. You have hardly moved from her side in days.’

  ‘I would not leave if you were not here, but I know you love her—and there is something important I must attend without delay.’

  ‘You do not need to explain yourself to me.’

  ‘My message is for her. I would not have your sister think I left her without a second thought.’

  ‘Do you wish me to tell her of Michael?’

  ‘If she asks, you must tell her the truth. I pray that she can find it in her heart to forgive me, but there was no choice.’

  ‘You felt you had none, but had I been alone I might have acted otherwise.’

  ‘Had you been alone you would have died. Michael showed you no mercy so why should you mourn his death?’

  ‘Had you a brother you would know how it feels.’

  ‘I had a brother once. He was older and would have inherited the estate, but he died when we were young.’ Something flickered in Rupert’s eyes. ‘Excuse me, I must go before my mother commits me to something I cannot reverse.’

  ‘Go with God. I hope that you return soon. My sister has suffered enough and I would not see her break her heart for you.’

  ‘She shall not do so if I can prevent it. You have my word. It is my intention to change things for the better, but say none of this to her. I would tell her myself.’

  Rupert looked down at the face of the woman he loved as she slept. She had been burning up with a fever for days, but now she looked peaceful. Yet even as he bent to kiss her forehead, she threw out an arm and called something.

  ‘Michael,’ she sobbed. ‘Michael, please do not hurt me. Rupert …’

  She was crying in her sleep. He cursed and bent to stroke her head, torn with regret that he must leave her. Despite being through the fever, she was still not well—and he loved her.

  It was because he loved her that he must leave her to her brother’s care. His mother had begun marriage negotiations that must be stopped before they went too far. He had no intention of wedding the girl his mother had chosen, but he must act quickly for all their sakes or more harm would be done.

  ‘Take care, my love,’ he said and kissed her brow. ‘I shall return as soon as I may. Forgive me for hurting you, my dear one. I love you and I shall return soon to claim you.’

  He knew that she could not hear him in her sleep and he would not wake her, for she needed her rest. His heart heavy, he took one last regretful look and left her. Surely she would come to no harm in her brother’s care and yet he had a feeling of unease as he walked from the room.

  Morwenna woke and stretched. After days of being ordered to eat, having her servant wash her and her brother visit her briefly, she was fully awake for the first time since becoming ill. She frowned as she looked at the fire burning brightly in her chamber and felt its welcome warmth. She frowned, trying to recall what had happened just before she was rescued. In her mind she thought she’d heard shouting and a shot—or was there more than one? What had happened when her brother rescued her—and Rupert, had he been there? She was sure he had been here in her room when she first woke from the fever. He’d ordered her to eat something, but since then she hadn’t seen him. Perhaps he was too busy to visit her. The thought was painful and she shut it from her mind.

  ‘Morwenna.’ Jacques entered the room. She noticed that he was wearing a sling on his left arm. Had he been injured during the fighting? ‘So you’re awake at last. I was beginning to think you would sleep for ever.’

  ‘What happened to your arm?’

  ‘Michael shot me,’ Jacques said. ‘Rupert alerted me or I might have died. As i
t was, I have little more than a flesh wound. The surgeon patched me up and I’ve almost healed.’

  Morwenna nodded. ‘I think I remember a shot. Michael wasn’t himself, Jacques. He was drinking because he was so frightened. He knew they were searching for him as well as the other plotters. In his fear and his drunken state he may have thought you had come to arrest him like the others.’

  ‘Michael should never have become involved with men like that,’ her brother said with a frown. ‘If the soldiers had found him, he would have been tried and then his fate doesn’t bear thinking of …’ He stopped, his eyes flicking away from hers as he considered how to continue.

  Morwenna stared at him. ‘What is it you’re afraid to tell me, Jacques? Did Michael get away? You mustn’t be angry with him. He wouldn’t harm me intentionally. And please tell me, where is Rupert? Why hasn’t he been to see me?’

  ‘He was here all the time until you began to recover. I think he had some family business. I do not know for sure, but his mother may have needed him. A letter came yesterday. He asked me to take care of you and said he would return as soon as he could.’

  ‘What happened to Michael? You didn’t answer when I asked if he got away.’ She pushed herself up against the pillows. ‘I know he treated me harshly, but I wouldn’t …’ A little cry escaped her. ‘Is he dead? There was a second shot. I heard it just before someone came up the stairs and then I don’t remember anything else.’

  ‘Michael was killed in the struggle. It was his fault. He was acting wildly—a danger to himself and others.’

  ‘Did you shoot him? Or was it …?’ She closed her eyes briefly as the grief swathed through her. ‘It was Rupert, of course. He thought Michael a traitor and would have killed him without a second thought. You would have disarmed him if you could.’

  ‘Rupert did what he had to do,’ Jacques said harshly. ‘Had we taken him alive, he would have been arrested and condemned as a traitor. His fate then would have been terrible. It was a clean death, Morwenna—and he deserved it for what he did to you.’

  ‘Oh, Jacques—are you in trouble, too, because of what Michael did?’

  ‘Rupert has promised to arrange a pardon for me. I knew nothing of the gunpowder treason plot. I could still be charged for smuggling, but thus far they haven’t found the caves and unless someone betrays us I doubt they will. Many have tried and failed; it is a secret the Morgans have kept for years.’

  ‘Yes. If Michael had remained a smuggler, he might still live—and he did it for us, Jacques, for his family.’

  ‘He was successful and grew wealthy. I know where his money is hid. I will see you get your share.’

  ‘I do not want his money.’ Morwenna frowned. ‘What will you do?’

  ‘As soon as you’re well I’m going down to the Melford estate on the Marches. Rupert made me his steward there. The old man is ready to retire, though he’s staying on for a while until I know what I’m doing.’ His eyes dwelled on her thoughtfully. ‘Unless you would wish me to take you away somewhere else?’

  ‘Where would we go?’ Morwenna smiled oddly. ‘I cannot leave Rupert. Even though I know he does not love me as deeply as I love him, I won’t leave him. I do not like the thought that he killed Michael, but he had no choice.’

  ‘Rupert cares for you deeply,’ Jacques told her. ‘He was distraught when we were not sure if you would live. Yet I’m not sure he means to wed you. His family would not be pleased. I heard a whisper that they wish to arrange a great marriage for him, to the daughter of a Duke.’

  ‘Oh.’ Morwenna’s eyes shut against the tears. She brushed a hand over her eyes and then looked at her brother. ‘The day he marries is the day I shall leave him. I could not share him with a wife, Jacques. It would not be fair to any of us.’

  ‘If you leave him, we could go home. The house is ours now.’

  ‘Yes, it is yours by right. If Rupert marries another woman, I shall come back to Cornwall.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘I have given my word that the match will go ahead, Rupert. If you break the agreement you will bring dishonour upon us. You promised me that you would marry well, as your brother Richard would have had he lived. He would have known his duty to his family and me.’

  Rupert frowned as he faced his mother across the room. She was a proud woman and used to having much of her own way, but in this he was determined to hold firm.

  ‘It was not your decision to make. Your word is not mine, Mother. I am no longer a child.’

  ‘You were to have wed a girl worthy of your name once, but now you would shame your brother’s memory and me. You owe it to Richard to marry well.’

  ‘I would have married my betrothed had she not died, Mama,’ Rupert said now. ‘But I was a boy then and now I am a man. You may not arrange a match for me. I shall not be treated as if I were a child. This time you have gone too far. Marley will understand when I tell him I have a prior commitment and if he does not then he may sue me for breach of promise. I gave no promise and you had no right to do so in my place. I shall be upheld in court and his daughter will be the loser.’

  Tears sprang to the Dowager Marchioness’s eyes. ‘How could you treat me this way, Rupert? How could you shame your family by bringing this whore into our midst?’

  ‘I have no intention of bringing her here,’ Rupert said. ‘We shall go down to the country and we shall be wed there. Morwenna is not a whore. You wrong her, Mother. She is a lady, though her family fell upon hard times and lost much of their estate. Her mother came from a good family.’

  ‘Her brother is a smuggler and a traitor—and she has lived with you as your mistress. Do you deny that you have lain with her?’

  ‘That is my affair and none of yours,’ Rupert replied coldly. ‘I have allowed you to have your way in most things because of what happened to Richard. I know that I should not have inherited the estate if he had lived, but he died that day and I survived. I am sorry if you wish it otherwise.’

  ‘Do not be so foolish,’ she snapped. ‘I would rather have had both my sons survive.’

  ‘So would I, Mama. Believe me, I have regretted what happened that day a thousand times. Richard slipped as we wrestled. It was an accident, no more, and I have let it haunt me long enough. I have not forgot him or my duty to the family, but I shall not marry this child you have found for me. Nor shall I give up the woman I love.’

  ‘Love? What ridiculous notion is this? Have I not told you that romantic love is a mere fancy?

  I married for duty, as your sister will and as you should. Family and property are what we stand for. It has always been thus.’

  ‘Has it, Mama? I pity you if that is all you see in life. Yet I know that my grandfather was happy in his marriage. Before I met Morwenna I was not so far different in my opinions, I shall admit. I hoped to find affection in my marriage, but I had no great hope of love or happiness. Now the case is altered. Morwenna is far above me. She will bring fresh blood and a healing wind to blow away the hurt of the past. I need her in my life and I shall not give her up.’

  ‘You could keep her as your mistress if you must.’

  ‘She would not stay if I were married. I know her too well. If I so insulted her she would go away, renounce her claims and tell me I must cleave to my wife. No, I shall offer her my name and my wealth—and I pray she will accept me with all my faults. I am hardly good enough for her, but perhaps in time I may earn her love back.’

  ‘You fool!’ His mother glared at him. ‘If you shame me, I shall not see you or her. We shall be estranged and you will not see your sister.’

  ‘I should regret that,’ Rupert told her with a bow of his head. ‘If you set your face against me I shall not see you, but my sister is under my guardianship. I shall not deny her, nor shall I force her into a marriage she does not like.’

  ‘If she must choose between us she will choose me, unless she wishes never to see her mother again.’

  ‘Such bitterness does not become you,�
�� Rupert said coldly. ‘I must bid you good day, Mother. I shall call on Marley and explain why I cannot marry his daughter and that you had no authority to begin negotiations on my behalf.’

  ‘Do that and you will be sorry. I shall make you suffer and that whore you would wed. No one in society will receive her by the time I have done.’

  ‘You would be so cruel?’ Rupert threw her a look of disgust. ‘I shall bid you goodbye, madam. I think we have nothing more to say to one another. You may remain here if you choose, but in the country the dower house is your only home from now on.’

  ‘How dare you deny me my rights?’

  ‘You have none but your dower, madam. I have let you rule my homes, but unless you acknowledge my wife both in private and in public you shall not enter them again.’

  Rupert inclined his head, leaving her staring after him in high indignation as he left. It would not suit her pride to be forced to step back for his wife and he was sure it was the reason she had picked an innocent sixteen-year-old, who would be too shy and nervous to argue with her mother-in-law.

  Morwenna would not be cowed whatever was said to her. Rupert smiled as he went out to his horse. He would send Morwenna a note explaining that he must be away for a few days, because he could not afford to neglect this affair. The Duke of Marley would be entitled to complain if his daughter thought herself promised to a man she did not know, only to discover that he had wed another. A swift visit to explain before anything was announced would save a deal of embarrassment and pain.

  Morwenna was much recovered. By the time he returned she might be ready to leave her bed and then they could begin to make plans for their wedding.

  He had done wrong in taking her to his house—his mother was not the only one who would hear of it and think the worst. Indeed, he had intended it as a love nest for them, but the case was altered. Morwenna had been through hell because she’d denied her brother. She deserved marriage and it was the only way he could make recompense for her suffering.